Read Online Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love? by Belinda McBride - Free Book Online Page B

honest, the urges don’t seem to surface too much around you. I seem to spend all my time taking care of you…”
    “Damage control.” She sat up, leaning back on her arms.
    He sat up as well, hitching the pants up over his lean hips. He lay back and she trailed her fingers over the muscles of his abs. “No, I’m taking care of you, keeping you safe and happy. That seems to…” He looked at her oddly. “My need to dominate has become a need to nurture you.”
    “Oh, wow.” Coco wasn’t sure what to think about that. Did she really need a keeper? Well, strike that, she obviously did. But when… If she got better, would he always try to be steering her away from trouble? She crossed her legs and propped her chin on her fist, thinker style.
    “Coco?”
    “Mmmm?” She looked over at Antonio. Yum. She sighed, letting the gooey, happy sense of infatuation run over her.
    “You’re making sense.” She sat upright and frowned at him. “After sex, you have a period of lucidity. I noticed it earlier but figured it was the water. Not counting the shower, we’re nowhere near the ocean.”
    He was right! Coco crawled off the bed and returned to the window. Though this was a beachfront hotel, the water was too far to reach quickly, especially from the seventh floor. She looked over her shoulder at Antonio, who looked as smug as only a cat can look.
    “It means that whenever there’s a need, I can just fuck the sense right back into you!”
    She tossed a pillow, laughing as it nailed him right on the forehead. He hit the floor with a crash and lay there laughing.
    “Hey, that’s no way to treat your Dom!”
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Nine
     
    Even with multiple televisions on different sports stations, Final Cut seemed a bit on the eerie side. It might be the storm clouds gathering over the horizon, or the fact that in the farthest corner, the lights were dim and the screens flickered with nothing but static and snow. As they entered, Sam grinned and Coco made a beeline for the bar, draping over one of the spinning stools.
    “Babe, be careful. Your dress is long…” Antonio helped her tuck up the skirts of the maxi dress she wore and bent over to drop a kiss on her forehead. Sam lifted a brow and the grizzly shifter guarding the door let out on ominous growl. He gave the shifter a disdainful look and nodded to the owner of the bar. Standing for a moment, he let his eyes adapt to the dim light and spotted his quarry.
    In the back was the same woman he’d spotted the first time he came into the bar. She wore a white tunic over a long skirt and her hair was held back in complex braids. Not far from her, a young man was seated, sitting stiffly upright, hands folded in front of a glass of beer. He was darker skinned than she, and he wore a white suit. A cream colored fedora shaded a sharp-featured face. Antonio wove through the tables, ignoring shifters and Fae and whatever other paranormals occupied the space. He came to a stop in front of her table and glanced down at the cards arrayed in front of her. It appeared to be a simple game of solitaire, but nothing was ever simple when it came to witches.
    She looked up at him, showing him that a pretty woman had evolved into beauty over the years. Her eyes were sharp, her cheekbones sculpted. Her lips might have thinned a bit with age, but were still beautifully shaped.
    “Ola, Antonio Silva.” She glanced up at him briefly.
    “Boa noite, Tia Nicola.” He stared down at her, ignoring her son. They’d once played together in the streets, kicking soccer balls and whistling at pretty girls. But in time, Ramon had turned to darker pleasures and Antonio had fled their little neighborhood. “Posso?” He gestured to the chair across from her. She nodded graciously and he pulled out the chair, sitting and waiting.
    “How many years has it been, Antonio? Nine?”
    “Ten years, Tia Nicola.”
    She turned a card and put it into play, biding her time. She glanced up at her