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The Beach is for Relaxation

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“Okay, seriously, if you don‘t put that away, I will hex it,” I warned.

Marcone looked up from the Blackberry he’d been tapping away at with rapid fingers. The only reason it worked was because he’d drawn a circle around himself in the sand in order to protect the electronic device from my Murphyonic field. I had a terrible and destructive effect on tech invented past World War II. And really advance technology like computers and PDAs? They didn‘t stand a chance. So, knowing that Marcone carried such devices I’d taught him how to protect himself from me, especially when he needed to use the technology for wrangling his minions.

I was already regretting it. We’d been on Demonreach for more than two hours and Marcone had yet to put the Blackberry down. If I’d known he’d been carrying it, I would have made of point of destroying it before he had the chance to set up the circle. I swear that I only left his side for moment, and when I’d come back I found this scene waiting for me.

“Do it, and I will shoot you,” said Marcone, calmly. He didn’t look up from the screen.

I rolled my eyes. If I didn’t already know Marcone was stressing out about his business I’d be thinking: the romance is dead.

“You don‘t have a gun,” I pointed out. I’d asked Hendricks to make sure that Marcone hadn’t brought any weapons with him to the island. Well, a gun at least, I don’t think even Hendricks would be able to part Marcone from his vast assortment of knives. Not without getting stabbed for his troubles. Hell, even I wouldn’t risk it.

“I‘d wait until Mr. Hendricks returned with the boat,” Marcone explained. The finger tapping sped up.

I resisted the urge to sulk. I was a grown wizard, not a teenager. “Come on, John. I promised Hendricks I‘d keep you away from barking orders at your underlings for a least a day.”

Marcone looked up at this just long enough to narrow his eyes at me.

“Seriously, you‘ve made some of your button men cry,” I said. And hadn’t that been the weirdest thing I’d ever seen in my life: tough mafia soldiers blinking back tears. And if you knew even a percentage of what I‘ve seen, you‘d know that was really saying something. “Don‘t you think you need to relax? I promise your empire wouldn‘t implode without your direct supervision for a day. Hendricks and Gard are on top of it. You, on the other hand, are going to kill one of your minions if you keep this up.”

Marcone went back ignoring me, because if there was ever a person on this planet who could give me a run for my money in the stubborn department, it was him.

Really annoyed now, but still not wanting to get shot later or stabbed now, I backed off several feet. Then I turned my focus to where Demonreach hovered in my mind and asked the island to do something about the freaking circle.

At once, small grey and green crabs began crawling out of the sand. Creepy. Like a line of ants, they marched up to Marcone’s circle and agitated the sand so that it loosened. I could feel the circle break up with a silent loss of pressure.

I concentrated.

Marcone’s head snapped up and he glared at me as the Blackberry in his hands fizzed. It wasn’t dead yet, but it was going to die at any moment.

I gave him my most innocent expression.

He looked at the crabs that were still moving with an unnatural uniformity around him, and then he looked back at me.

“I didn‘t do anything,” I said defensively.

“No, you just asked the island to do it for you,” he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Stars, that look was sexy as hell on him. Scary too, of course, but oh so sexy.

“You can shoot the island if it will make you feel better,” I offered.

Marcone shook his head and shut off his Blackberry before the poor thing finished dying. “You have at your command a super-powered being that has absolute control of the one-hundred and fifty acres of this island, and you use it to destroy my Blackberry.”

“You‘re just jealous that the island loves me more than you,” I said smugly. Then I decided that it was safe enough to get within arm reach of him.

If he was going to stab me, he would have done it when the Blackberry began dying.

I sat down next to him on the large beach towel that was more like blanket and nudged him with my elbow. I wagged the bottle of sunblock I had pulled out of the bag earlier, when I first began to try and get Marcone to relax and enjoy the beach.

“I‘ll let you cover me in lotion, John,” I offered, making it sound like I was offering jewels and nubile girls to him instead of just my skinny beanpole self.

The irritated look on Marcone’s face was replaced by amusement and that familiar hunger that made my breath catch even after all these months of being together. It also gave me the urge to run away, but that was more for the fun of having Marcone chase me down. His predator instincts flared up when I did that. And it ended up with both of us enjoying the results when he caught me.

“Take off your shirt,” Marcone said, calmly. He tilted his head slightly as he assessed me. “And your cut-offs.”

Oh yeah, now this was how a vacation should go!

I stripped off my clothes and toss them off to the side, not carrying that they‘d end up full of sand. Marcone gripped me by the hips and pulled me down against him. I was really glad that we’d picked an extra large beach towel. I’d hate to get sand in sensitive places.

“This would be a lot more fun,” I grinned down at him, “if you lost your clothes too.”

“Oh?” Marcone asked. “Well, then you better take them off me.”

My grin widened. I curled my fingers around the bottom of his shirt and pulled. Marcone helped by raising his arms. I took the opportunity to mess up his hair just because I could. It’s one of those acts that I loved doing because I knew I was the only one allowed.

Well, other the only act other than this one.

I kissed him, settling myself down on Marcone’s lap. I slipped my fingers from his dark hair, down his cheeks, to the pulse in his neck, to his chest, lingering on his hardening nipples. I followed the trail left by my fingers with my lips. I grazed the side of his neck with my teeth, then scraping lightly at his Adam’s apple just to hear him gasp.

He groaned at I bit hard at his collarbone. And in that moment of distraction, I used my weight to push him down into the towel. He stared up at me with glazed eyes. In his arousal the color of his eyes had darkened to hunter green.

My favorite shade.

“Harry,” he growled, as I took too long in admiring the view.

“I‘m just enjoying the sight of you actually relaxing,” I said.

“I‘d be more relaxed if you actually finished what you started doing.”


I hide my grin against his stomach, nuzzling the trail of hairs that led so enticingly down. I slipped my fingers around the elastic band of his beach shorts, exposing his hardening cock to the air.

Marcone settled his hand against my head. I mouthed at the tip, tasting the gathering bitter fluid with a swipe of my tongue. Marcone’s grip on back of my head pulled me closer to him. I opened my mouth, letting his cock settle deep in my mouth.

He groaned and I was ready when he arched up. I groaned right back, as I began hardening. And it took all I had not to grind against his thigh.

I wrapped one hand around his hip and pressed him back against the ground. I pulled back, leaving the broad head just out of reach of the touch my lips.

“Jesus, Harry,” he panted. “Stop teasing.”

“You‘ll stop trying to contact your people?” I asked ruthlessly.

He tried to glare at me, but it’s hard to pull off the dangerous mob boss look when his expression was wrecked, desperate and turned on. He was so hard that his erection was a dark shade of red and leaking all over my hand where I was caressing the soft skin and crinkled hair on his balls.

“Yes, fine,” he gritted through clenched teeth, and tugged me down.

I grinned and willingly opened my mouth again.

It was a good thing that we were the only two people on that island because he got really loud. Well, we both did.

“So, how do you like the idea of relaxing on the beach now?” I asked, propping myself up on an elbow. I grinned down at Marcone.

His rapid breathing slowly returned to normally. He looked through heavy eyelids up at me. “I can be persuaded to admit to enjoying it,” he said slowly. The corners of his mouth curled up. “With the right incentive, of course.”

“I take it you want me to persuade you some more?”

His smile widened.

I snorted, but bent my head to kiss him anyway. Mob bosses named John Marcone were so damned hard to please.

But it sure was fun to try.