Page 125 of Break Out the Girl

“So good.”

She encircles the shaft, making me suck in a breath. “Please, Kitten…”

“What should I do?”

“Could you, possibly, move your hand up and down? Keeping that grip? I do so very much like it.”

Oh, Gods in heaven. It feels like love.

I feel like I’ve been a caterpillar all my life, but now I am a red admiral. My butterfly breath is coming out in shuddering gasps as she continues to stroke. “Ooh, love,” I whimper. “I think things are going to happen.”

The next moment electricity rushes through my veins to the base of my spine and then.

Whoosh.

I spill and spill and spill.

As soon as the wild rush slows, I collapse against her shoulder. I’m crying buckets, but happy water. The happiest ever.

And somehow my swirling blue bubble comes back to life with me and Kitten in the center. A perfect, toasty hothouse haven.

I lie on my back, and pull her on top of me. She snuggles into my chest. We lay there for a long time, not saying anything but hearing everything.

Just like the wise old owl.

Finally Kitten pulls back, her face flushed and beautiful. “We should go claim some shepherd's pie before Basil eats it all.”

I stand up, my legs feeling elastic and magnificent, and grab her hand. “Next time we kneel in the frozen mud, I’m going to touch you until you see stars,” I tell her.

“Does it have to be kneeling in frozen mud?” she replies.

“Oh! You’re right, it doesn’t at all! We could do this up a tree, under a hedge. On a doorstep, on a ledge.” The possibilities are endless.

“Or on a warm and comfy bed?” she grins.

Wow. I hadn’t even thought of that one.

45: FRANCOIS

“Non, Alexis. That is entirely illogical.”

Leaning my forehead against the cold glass of the trailer’s kitchen window, I pinch the bridge of my nose. In my right hand, the satellite phone feels exceptionally annoying. How am I to master this spell purely via conversation?

Through the speaker, Professor Alexis Feniks’ voice carries a note of dry amusement, which I do not care for. “It is perfectly logical, François. It surprises me that you’re having such difficulties. Perhaps if you’d paid more attention…”

“I spent precisely one term at Validus Vale. If the WMO, who you are now part of, enabled young witches to learn how to ward before attending an academy, then you could mock me.” All I want is the ability to place sturdy wards around our current domain.

Yes, Taliesin runs the perimeter several times a day, but we need 24/7 security.

“And maybe if you were a better teacher, then your students wouldn’t be so lacking.”

A heavy, exasperated sigh sounds from the other end. “Changing curriculum law is low on the list of priorities. I’m already embroiled in the mess that is Quo Reformare—would you rather I switch to school topics instead?”

Ugh.

Connard.

“At least you’ve somewhat mastered the basic spell cast. Keep practicing, but don’t expect overnight success.”