Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4)

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Witch Way Now: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Raising Hell Downunder Book 4) Page 15

by Rhiannon Hartley


  ✽✽✽

  "So, I asked Ant what to wear to an alterative night," Jacob said, emerging from the study. "And he said this would be perfect."

  Beatrix looked him up and down and burst out laughing. "Where did you even get that shirt?" she asked.

  "Ant loaned it to me," Jacob admitted. "Too much?"

  "Maybe a little," she said, standing up and moving closer to him. "I mean, don't get me wrong. You look... Well, let's just say you'd get plenty of attention. But you don't have to wear that. Just chuck on a black t-shirt or something."

  "Oh, thank fuck for that," Jacob sighed in relief as he pulled off the silver mesh tank top.

  "Bloody hell Jacob, give me some warning if you're going to do that!" Beatrix gasped.

  "What?"

  "You're very...half-naked," she said, her eyes fixed on his admittedly well-muscled chest.

  "Is that a problem?" Jacob smirked. "You can look, but you can't touch. Not until after our first date, at least. I'm not that easy."

  "You sure about that?" Beatrix whispered, and she ran one long finger down his chest, tracing the outline of his pecs and making Jacob's skin feel like it was on fire.

  "I..." Jacob let out a breath. "Am absolutely that easy. For you, anyway." Beatrix held his gaze and looked like she was about to tell him to forget about a t-shirt, hell, forget about the whole damn gig, but she pulled back at the last moment.

  "Get dressed," she said instead. "We can't disappoint Onyx. If we don't show up, that's half his audience gone."

  "Tease!" Jacob called after her.

  "I'm not the one prancing about shirtless!"

  ✽✽✽

  As it turned out, Beatrix seemed to have a much better idea of what to wear to an alternative gig than he did.

  She was wearing a simple black dress, but slashes on the sides showed tempting glimpses of the creamy skin that Jacob couldn't stop thinking about moving his mouth over. Paired with black suede sneakers covered with silver studs and her hair in a high topknot, Beatrix looked far more comfortable at the tiny, dingy pub where Onyx was set to play than Jacob felt.

  "Come on," Beatrix said, taking his hand to lead him inside. "I'll buy you a beer. Lots of beers. You'll need them. The warm-up act will be...interesting."

  "You say the sweetest things," Jacob grinned.

  The little pub was packed with people, all of them dressed like Onyx. Except maybe a little worse. Jacob saw more spiked chokers and platform boots in the tiny pub than he had ever known existed.

  "I know this isn't your scene," Beatrix whispered, handing him a beer. "And it's not really mine either. But I'm really glad you came."

  "I would have said yes to watching paint dry if it was you asking me," Jacob said, entirely truthfully. "What changed your mind, anyway?"

  Beatrix smiled. "I... Well, it was something Shauna said, actually. That promise I made? I was seventeen when I promised myself I wouldn't do relationships. Wouldn't let anyone get close. Definitely wouldn't ever let anyone live with me."

  "I skipped ahead on that one."

  "True," Beatrix admitted. "But, well, she told me that I shouldn't let a teenager run the rest of my life. And she told me that she had never seen me actually want to break my rule before, so you must be pretty special."

  "And?"

  "And I had to agree with her," Beatrix said, looking up at him, her blue eyes bright. "It just took me a while to work it all out in my head. And I... Well, thanks for being patient."

  "I am literally bound to you. It's not like I could go anywhere," Jacob reached out to take her hand in his. "But I would have waited a lot longer."

  "Jacob," she whispered, pressing her body against his for just a moment. "I hope you know how much I want to grab you right now and do all sorts of dirty things to you. I don't even care if this sea of goths watches. But if I do that, there's no holding back. It's all over. And Onyx will be devastated if we miss watching him play."

  "I understand," Jacob said softly. "If I kiss you, it's going to take a lot more than a guy with an accordion to distract me."

  Beatrix gave him a shit-eating grin. "Just a little while longer," she said softly. "And then..."

  "I can wait," Jacob said, running his fingertip over her palm and making her gasp. "And I really need to thank Shauna. Send her a fruit basket or something."

  "She'd prefer champagne."

  ✽✽✽

  Jacob felt like he was stuck in a goth-themed purgatory as he watched a woman with navy hair croon into a microphone about death, destruction, and decay.

  "Good thing I'm not depressed," Jacob whispered to Beatrix. "I think this would just about send me over the edge."

  "It should come with a warning," she whispered back. "Only to be consumed by emotionally stable people."

  "That's the whole crowd gone, then."

  Beatrix's soft laughter so close to his ear was torture, and he checked his watch for the millionth time. He had never imagined that he'd actually want Onyx to take to the stage so badly.

  "You better not try to get them to do an encore," he muttered.

  "Trust me," she whispered back. "I'm not coping a whole lot better than you here."

  Finally Onyx appeared, slinking out from behind the dark curtains like he was an extension of them. Onyx was dressed in what looked like a black velvet suit, which he had, bizarrely, chosen to pair with studded, high heeled boots and a mesh tank top like the one Ant had tried to make Jacob wear.

  His bandmates, wielding an accordion and ukulele respectively, looked like they had come straight from the set of a low budget horror movie. To be fair, Jacob thought, that actually may have been the vibe they were going for.

  "Hello," Onyx said into the microphone, his voice low and guttural. "I don't know how much time any of us have left, but it's a pleasure to be here with you for what could be our last day on earth."

  Jacob raised his eyebrows, but the crowd roared their approval.

  "This song is about how good things always fade away," Onyx croaked, and the accordion began a mournful tune.

  The surprising thing, Jacob thought, was that Onyx was actually a decent singer. If he had been accompanied by an acoustic guitar and someone on drums, he could easily have made some money doing covers. But that would have required Onyx to be willing to cover pub favourites and not these songs, which were clearly original creations.

  "He's good!" Jacob said, and Beatrix laughed out loud.

  "I know!" she said, shaking her head. "He'd be much better off without those two, but he won't hear of it. Says he'd never betray his band, just for success."

  "Isn't that the point?"

  "Not according to him," Beatrix shrugged as Onyx's voice rose in mournful chorus.

  As the crowed around them swayed, Jacob wrapped his arms around Beatrix's waist, inhaling the scent of her long hair and wishing passionately that Onyx hadn't chosen to make each song at least seven minutes long.

  He felt Beatrix tremble in his arms, even as she pressed her body against his.

  "Is this okay?" he murmured in her ear. "For a first date?"

  She laughed but gasped as his fingers trailed over her back, rubbing slow circles.

  "I think this still counts as dancing," she whispered.

  "How many more songs in the set?" Jacob groaned softly as Beatrix combed her fingers through his hair.

  "Two," Beatrix said. "But the last one is spoken word poetry."

  Jacob groaned. "Kill me now."

  "How did you know what the song's called?"

  Jacob chuckled. It was the sweetest torture, holding her against him and knowing that he had to wait. Wait before he could kiss her, touch her, and let out everything he had been holding back since they had first met. He was starting to feel extraordinarily grateful to Onyx for his miscast spell. Not that he'd ever tell him that.

  When the final song came to an end, and the crowd around them roared their appreciation, Jacob raised Beatrix's face to his, fingers under her chin. He was abo
ut to kiss her, when—

  "Wait," she whispered, putting one finger to his lips.

  "You're killing me. You know that, right?"

  "Not here," she shook her head. "I..." She swallowed. "Come home with me?"

  "I have to come home with you. If I want to keep my internal organs—"

  "Do you ever stop making jokes?" Beatrix whispered. She pressed her body flush against his, and Jacob let out a breath.

  "Sometimes."

  "I'm asking you to come home with me. Pretend you aren't bound to me. What do you say?" Beatrix said, biting her lip and looking up at him with enormous blue eyes.

  "I say..." Jacob began. "I've never wanted anything more in my life."

  "Good," Beatrix said and took his hand firmly in her own. "Let's get out of here then."

  "You sure you can't teleport?"

  Beatrix laughed as she led him through the crowd. "Wade can make portals," she said. "But the results can be...unpredictable."

  "Unpredictable?"

  "You don't know exactly where you're going to end up," Beatrix said. "Could be at my house, could be in a tree."

  "Then maybe we'll drive," Jacob said. "Just to be on the safe side."

  "Yeah," Beatrix said. "Because I definitely want you in one piece."

  "Aren't you going to say goodbye to Onyx?" Jacob said, hating himself for mentioning it now that they were finally so close. So goddamn close.

  "Onyx?" Beatrix said. "Oh, he's getting mobbed by fans. Trust me, he's going to be very busy."

  "I'll leave him to it then," Jacob said and let Beatrix lead him out of the bar and into the cool night air.

  16 Beatrix

  "That was the longest drive of my life," Jacob grumbled as he pulled up beside the house. "Must have been at least four hours."

  "It was twenty minutes!" Beatrix laughed. "But... I kind of know what you mean." Her heart was thudding in her chest. This was really, finally about to happen. Everything she had told herself she wasn't allowed to have was right in front of her.

  She fumbled with her keys, desperate to get inside. Opening the door, the inquisitive snout of Gumbo met her hand, and he wagged his tail in delight while Prada turned tight circles, shrilly barking her excitement.

  Beatrix groaned in frustration and grabbed a container from the pantry. She gave each of the dogs a large pig's ear. "There," she said. "That should keep you busy."

  "Good idea," Jacob said, and she could feel his body heat behind her, his breath on her neck.

  She turned around then, looking up into those green eyes, and she could see that he was nervous too, because this meant as much to him as it did to her. There was nothing casual about this.

  Jacob's hands were warm and confident on her face, just holding her there for a moment. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, sending tingles rushing up her spine and making her body shiver with anticipation. And then, finally, after waiting so long, he lowered his lips to hers.

  The reaction was instant. Beatrix's body lit up, hotter than any bonfire at the commune. She melted into him, her body flashing hot and cold, trembling with want. His lips were warm, soft, and it was better than any kiss she had ever had before because it was Jacob kissing her. Why had she waited so long? She would have kissed him the first damn time she met him if she had known it was going to be like this.

  When the tip of his tongue brushed against her own, her lips parted for him willingly. Beatrix moaned as he pressed her against the door of the pantry, his strong hands moving over her body.

  "God, Beatrix, I..." he murmured as he pulled away for a moment. "You're so goddamn beautiful."

  "Want you," she whispered. "Want you so much. Come to bed with me. Right now."

  "Yeah," Jacob murmured. "Yeah, I think we should do that."

  But he didn't stop kissing her. His mouth was locked on hers as they stumbled down the hallway, tripping and laughing as they found their way to her bedroom. She had never let any of her lovers into her bedroom before. That was her sacred space, her sanctuary. But Jacob... Well, he was different.

  Jacob kicked the door closed behind them and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her like he never wanted to let her go. Beatrix couldn't stop the breathy moans that escaped her as he mouthed over her neck, his lips sliding over her collarbone.

  "Want you so much," he groaned, his voice so deep and gravelly with desire that he could have easily performed a spoken word poetry piece of his own.

  "Can't be as much as I want you," Beatrix whispered, sliding her hands under his t-shirt and feeling the hard muscle under his hot skin. "You'd explode."

  "And you wouldn't?"

  "Witches aren't so easily combustible," she said, earning a chuckle in response. "You should know that."

  "Want to know everything about you," Jacob said, and she let him push her down onto her neatly made bed. She arched up into him, wanting everything at once. She wanted him to touch her even as she burned to get her hands all over him, she wanted—

  "Clothes. Off. Right now," Beatrix tugged at the hem of his t-shirt.

  "Yeah," Jacob agreed readily and let her pull the t-shirt over his head.

  "Fucking hell, your body is so..." Beatrix ran her hands over his chest, wanting to feel every muscle, mouth over every part of him.

  "Glad you like it," Jacob groaned. "God, Beatrix, that dress has got to go."

  And she was more than happy to oblige, letting Jacob peel it over her head. She gasped out loud as strong hands cupped her breasts, teasing her hard nipples through the lacy material of her bra, and she writhed underneath him. Her skin was on fire, her body demanding more.

  "God, Jacob, please," she moaned. She didn't even know exactly what she was asking for, but he seemed to know, effortlessly peeling off her bra and dipping his head to capture one pale pink nipple in his mouth.

  Beatrix cried out loud enough to make her eternally grateful that her nearest neighbours were miles away and pressed her hips up into him. She slipped her hands down to his tight jeans, and she could feel how hard he was for her through the thick denim. She pulled at the buttons, slipping her hand into his jocks and wrapping her fingers around his thick length.

  "God, yes!" Jacob groaned. "Fuck, need you to touch me."

  "Don't wanna stop," Beatrix whispered.

  Their mouths collided once more, burning desire spilling over, and for a moment, there was a flurry of activity as Jacob's jocks and jeans and Beatrix's thong were flung wildly around the bedroom.

  Beatrix gasped out loud at the sight of Jacob, his skin glowing almost golden in the soft light. He looked like every one of her naughtiest fantasies come to life, his eyes fixed on her, dark with desire.

  "Need you," he breathed. "God, Beatrix, need this so much."

  He mouthed over her breasts, grazing his teeth ever so lightly over one nipple, making her ball her fists and arch off the bed with a cry of pleasure. But he kept moving, brush of stubble moving down over her stomach, her hips until his mouth was pressing hot kisses to her inner thighs, and she knew exactly what he was about to do to her.

  "Please, god, please!" Beatrix moaned. The sight of Jacob's head between her own pale thighs sent a surge of want through her, electrifying her skin.

  "Don't have to beg," Jacob whispered. "Desperate to taste you." And with that, his hot mouth locked over her clit, swirling, licking, teasing, tasting.

  Beatrix let out a cry that would have woken the dead. Good thing she had never dabbled in necromancy. She arched, moaned, and trembled under his mouth. It was almost impossibly good, sending her on waves of pleasure, spiralling higher and higher, building towards—

  "Stop!" she cried out. "You're going to make me come!"

  "Want to," Jacob breathed.

  "Want to come with you inside me," Beatrix moaned, gasping out at his perfect ministrations.

  "Pretty sure I can make you do both," Jacob murmured with a tiny smirk. And then he put his lips right back on her, swirling faster, harder, almost willing her t
o orgasm.

  "God, Jacob, fuck!" she cried. "I'm so close!"

  Legs trembling, skin slick with sweat, crying out with every gasped breath, Beatrix was right on the edge, grabbing frantically at her bamboo bedsheets.

  And then it happened. Her orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave, surges of pleasure carrying her higher and higher. She was out of control, a mess of cries and moans beneath him. But he didn't stop, didn't slow his pace until he had elicited every last bit of pleasure from her, and she had to push his dark head away.

  "My god," Beatrix whispered, breathless and completely unable to form a single coherent thought. "That was..."

  "Satisfactory?"

  "I was going to say transcendent," she breathed, pulling him up to her so she could kiss those lips, tasting herself on them.

  "I'll settle for that," Jacob murmured, laughing softly. "As a first try, anyway."

  Beatrix gasped out a laugh, but she knew they were far from finished. She reached down, wrapping her fingers around Jacob's hard cock, heavy and needy in her hand. Jacob groaned, pressing into her touch.

  She jerked him in slow teasing strokes, listening for every hitch of breath, wanting to discover exactly how he liked to be touched, wanting to give him the very best that she possibly could. He definitely deserved it.

  "Need you, Beatrix," he breathed. "If you're ready to–"

  "I'm absolutely ready," she whispered. "Want to feel you inside me so much, Jacob."

  He groaned out loud, his body so hard against her own.

  "Need to find my jeans, I've got condoms in my wallet."

  "I've got something better," Beatrix whispered, rolling to the bedside table and opening the drawer.

  "What's that?" Jacob asked.

  "Well, it's like a condom. But magic, so you can feel everything," she said. "If you're not comfortable with it, I don't mind using regular condoms."

  "I trust you," Jacob said, without hesitation, and that made Beatrix's heart swell in her chest even as her body ached with want. God, he was so damn sexy. He was definitely going to drive her crazy, she thought.

  She unscrewed the lid of the tiny jar and poured the viscous substance into her hand, reaching down to slide it over Jacob's cock.

 

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