The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4) by Kate Quinn (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗

very concerned about nudity, so I guess I could probably take off my skirt—Dalmanther piss and all. Self-consciously, I twist the wet section of my skirt into a knot, going for a Boho look. It exposes most of one thigh, but nobody seems to mind. In fact, I get a small round of applause from below, like the crowd thinks maybe I’m already adopting their lifestyle.

I give them a quick wave and turn to Mac. “What’s the deal here?”

“Trust fall,” Mac joins me at the edge of the platform. Amazingly, he’s holding Shit in his arms, and the Dalmanther seems totally fine with that. More than fine. He cuddles his head against Mac’s chest, actually purring. The Dalmanther purr is a hard-won sign of affection, and I’d been waiting to hear Shit’s. It hurts that this is that moment—and it’s not for me. Irritation flares as I glance over the side of the landing.

“Seriously?” I ask him, incredulous. “Trust fall? That’s, like, thirty feet!”

“That’s why it’s a true trust fall,” Mac says. “Together We Come encourages us to experience physical intimacy with one another, but it’s more than that. Emotional connection can boost pleasure profoundly, so we’d like our members to be as committed to each other as possible. We don’t require loyalty, but we do ask for an open and trusting nature. It starts here.”

“Speaking of loyalty…” I give Shit a nasty side-eye but he only pants at me, eyes slightly glazed. That’s when I realize his lipstick is all the way out.

“Hey, stop turning my dog on,” I tell Mac.

“I’m not responsible for the animal urges of others,” Mac informs me, his voice low and gravelly. I definitely feel something shift down below. There’s a warmth there I haven’t felt since the one night I had with Liam. Except for a flicker back in the office with Nico. Which I can’t allow myself to even consider.

“Give him back. And my broom,” I tell him. I’d barely realized he’s grabbed it.

“It’s her emotional support broom,” Cassie explains.

“I’ll get them to the ground,” Mac assures me.

I’m not sure I trust Mac with my dog…but I also don’t want him strapped to my chest again. And I’m not entirely sure I can trust that he won’t tear the throat out of the first person who lays hands on me, trust fall or not.

“Fine, you can take him,” I say. “But no funny business.”

Mac straightens, clearly offended. “Seems like you need this trust fall more than most.”

Maybe he’s right. With VSK stalking my every move, it’s been pretty much impossible to trust anyone outside of my inner circle. Which isn’t great. I don’t want to become a person locked away from others because of my fears. If that happens then VSK might never visit me again—but he’d still win.

“You’re right,” I tell Mac. Leaning into Shit, I give him a good ear rub. In response Shit makes one of his low happy grunts. “Be a good boy,” I tell him.

“Wow, you have great hands for massage,” Mac observes in a low husky voice that immediately makes my libido snap to attention. “I do special one-on-one classes for those who want to bring their technique to the next level.”

I gulp. Hard. And then can’t resist glancing down at Mac’s hands. They’re large, long, and well-manicured for a man living out in the middle of nowhere. Overall, they also seem to be great hands for...massage.

Reminding myself of my strict no supes policy, I back away from Mac until I’m teetering on the edge of the platform.

“I’M COMING,” I scream, and throw myself off the ledge.

13

Falling thirty feet into the arms of naked strangers is the preferred alternative to spending any more time in close contact with the sex demon.

I land in a sea of warmth. Hands are everywhere, and I half expect someone to cop a feel, but nobody does. I’m propped up on my feet just before Cassie takes the plunge. She’s similarly caught—safely, and with no molestation. She joins me, breathless and happy.

“That was awesome,” she says.

Just then Shit’s nose nudges my hand. I look around, but there’s no sign of Mac which leaves me strangely both relieved and disappointed.

I pat Shit’s head. “Shit, heel,” I order. I don’t want him running around.

“Shitheel?” Cassie asks with a laugh.

I laugh too. I hadn't thought of that.

“Hello, Paige,” someone says, and there’s a hand on my shoulder. I jump and spin to find a good-looking guy with two little curls of horns on his head. “I’m Seamus, and I’m here to get you and Cassie loaded onto the welcome wagon.”

“Is that like a gang bang?” I ask, eyeing his horns. I’d heard of satyrs, but they aren’t common. Their horns brought the particular attention of hardcore church folk down on them when supes first made an appearance on Earth, and they lay pretty low as a result.

“No, silly,” he says, flipping away my orgy concerns with a wave of his hand. “We truly want you to be comfortable here at Together We Come, and in order to make that happen we need to know your preferences. No gang bangs until you see our consent witch.”

“Um, okay,” I agree, following Seamus. Cassie falls into step behind me, and casually takes my hand, interlacing our fingers.

I’m not terribly comfortable with touch. Living with Darron—who gives impromptu backrubs—has taken some adjustment. And while I like Cassie, I don’t know that I’m at the hand-holding stage yet. But she’s practically skipping as we move down the path toward a small cabin, and I don’t feel like popping her happy bubble.

“Ladies,” Seamus says, motioning us through the front door. Inside the cabin there’s a circle of overstuffed pillows around a short wide table. Incense burns and the room smells of patchouli. A good-looking woman lounges on a pillow, but rises when we enter.

“Paige! Cassie! Welcome,” she says, opening her arms.

“How do you know our names?” I ask.

“She’s a witch,” Cassie tells me.

“My name is Adorra.” She reaches her