Impassion (Mystic) Read Online Free PDF
Author: B. C. Burgess
possess enough concentration to redirect thoughts from the forefront of our minds into hidden compartments. Once your secrets are concealed, create a new compartment filled with nonsense, then place it front and center for the intruder to find. We can also shield our skulls, which can prevent the intrusion altogether, but it’s wise to remember shields can be broken. Am I making sense?”
“Yes, and it sounds hard.”
“It is hard, but blocking is easier than searching, which helps protect our privacy.”
“Privacy,” she smirked, reaching for her coffee. The brew had already cooled, so she tried using magic to heat it up. The ceramic mug warmed, and she smiled as she sipped.
Quin grinned as he watched her drink. Then he inched back into her hair. “So,” he whispered, “do you need help with something else? Or should I go back to distracting you?”
Layla closed her eyes as she leaned into him, unable to stop herself. “Mmm... that’s a tough one, but we should probably get back to the point.”
“Did we have a point?” he asked, drifting his nose across her neck.
And that’s when Layla forgot she held hot coffee. “Damn.”
“What?” he asked, pulling away.
“You distracted me,” she accused, holding up wet fingers.
He took her hand and examined it. “Did it burn?”
“No, but it made a mess of things.”
“Nothing a little magic can’t fix,” he assured, cleaning her up. “So, what decisions do you need my help with? I think that was our point when we sat down.”
“Was it?” she asked, staring at her dry fingers.
“Yes,” he answered, taking her mug and floating it to the table, “but we can find a new point if you don’t like that one anymore.” He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “What about how incredible you smell?”
Her cheeks burned, but she somehow maintained eye contact. “I’m not sure that would make for stimulating conversation.”
“Who said anything about conversation?”
Layla laughed, but her insides flipped with a mixture of nerves and desire. “You are a good distraction, Quinlan Kavanagh, but you’re making me break my promise.”
“Well, Layla Love Callaway, we can’t have that. What can I do to help with your decisions?”
His use of her middle name caught Layla off guard. Only two other people had ever used it—her dad and Katherine. “What’s yours?”
“My what?”
“Your middle name.”
“Now who’s distracting?” he teased.
“It’s only fair,” she countered. “You know mine.”
“I love your middle name. It’s very appropriate.”
“You’re stalling,” she accused.
He laughed as he swept a curl across her nose. “Am not. It’s Farrel.”
“Hmm... Quinlan Farrel Kavanagh. I like it.”
He dropped her hair and touched a forefinger to her bottom lip. “Are you stalling?”
“No.”
She leaned into him, trying to decide which way would be the best way to meet her grandparents. “I think it would be weird to meet them one at a time, so I guess the four of them should come together. I also think it would be weird to answer the door to them, or for them to just walk in, so it would be nice if maybe you could warn me then let them in. It will still be awkward, but there’s no escaping that. What do you think?”
“What did you need me for?”
“Input. So you don’t mind letting them in? Or have a better idea?”
“Of course I don’t mind, and no, I don’t have a better idea of what you want than you do.”
“I guess that’s it then. Time to climb the ladder to the high dive.”
“That’s the scariest part.”
“So they say,” she mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder.
After a long moment of bliss, she leaned back and found his eyes. “Are you going to let me go so I can shower?”
“I have a choice?”
“Well I doubt I could successfully fight my way free.”
“Do you want to try?” he asked, dimples deepening.
“Maybe some other time,” she smirked.
“I look forward to it,”
“Yes, and it sounds hard.”
“It is hard, but blocking is easier than searching, which helps protect our privacy.”
“Privacy,” she smirked, reaching for her coffee. The brew had already cooled, so she tried using magic to heat it up. The ceramic mug warmed, and she smiled as she sipped.
Quin grinned as he watched her drink. Then he inched back into her hair. “So,” he whispered, “do you need help with something else? Or should I go back to distracting you?”
Layla closed her eyes as she leaned into him, unable to stop herself. “Mmm... that’s a tough one, but we should probably get back to the point.”
“Did we have a point?” he asked, drifting his nose across her neck.
And that’s when Layla forgot she held hot coffee. “Damn.”
“What?” he asked, pulling away.
“You distracted me,” she accused, holding up wet fingers.
He took her hand and examined it. “Did it burn?”
“No, but it made a mess of things.”
“Nothing a little magic can’t fix,” he assured, cleaning her up. “So, what decisions do you need my help with? I think that was our point when we sat down.”
“Was it?” she asked, staring at her dry fingers.
“Yes,” he answered, taking her mug and floating it to the table, “but we can find a new point if you don’t like that one anymore.” He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “What about how incredible you smell?”
Her cheeks burned, but she somehow maintained eye contact. “I’m not sure that would make for stimulating conversation.”
“Who said anything about conversation?”
Layla laughed, but her insides flipped with a mixture of nerves and desire. “You are a good distraction, Quinlan Kavanagh, but you’re making me break my promise.”
“Well, Layla Love Callaway, we can’t have that. What can I do to help with your decisions?”
His use of her middle name caught Layla off guard. Only two other people had ever used it—her dad and Katherine. “What’s yours?”
“My what?”
“Your middle name.”
“Now who’s distracting?” he teased.
“It’s only fair,” she countered. “You know mine.”
“I love your middle name. It’s very appropriate.”
“You’re stalling,” she accused.
He laughed as he swept a curl across her nose. “Am not. It’s Farrel.”
“Hmm... Quinlan Farrel Kavanagh. I like it.”
He dropped her hair and touched a forefinger to her bottom lip. “Are you stalling?”
“No.”
She leaned into him, trying to decide which way would be the best way to meet her grandparents. “I think it would be weird to meet them one at a time, so I guess the four of them should come together. I also think it would be weird to answer the door to them, or for them to just walk in, so it would be nice if maybe you could warn me then let them in. It will still be awkward, but there’s no escaping that. What do you think?”
“What did you need me for?”
“Input. So you don’t mind letting them in? Or have a better idea?”
“Of course I don’t mind, and no, I don’t have a better idea of what you want than you do.”
“I guess that’s it then. Time to climb the ladder to the high dive.”
“That’s the scariest part.”
“So they say,” she mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder.
After a long moment of bliss, she leaned back and found his eyes. “Are you going to let me go so I can shower?”
“I have a choice?”
“Well I doubt I could successfully fight my way free.”
“Do you want to try?” he asked, dimples deepening.
“Maybe some other time,” she smirked.
“I look forward to it,”