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

by Rhiannon Hartley

  A knock on the door pulled Jacob from his reverie, and he was still behind his desk when Beatrix came in, smiling and smelling of lavender, thyme, and fresh air.

  "What are you doing down there?" she frowned, but her eyes were dancing. "I thought that was my hiding place."

  "Just saying hello to Prada," Jacob said, hurriedly getting to his feet and shutting his laptop in case any incriminating emails decided to pop up.

  "How's your day going?" Beatrix said. "I hadn't heard from you, so I decided I'd come over with this—" This was a coffee in one of the glass-walled thermos cups that Jacob himself had gifted to the office. It had seemed like a good idea after he had witnessed Onyx pulling his hair out over the way Shauna had dripped her mug over his precious invoices.

  "You're an angel," Jacob said gratefully. And she kind of looked like one, he thought. Beatrix's long red hair was loose around her face for once, and she was wearing a white cheesecloth blouse, heavy with embroidery. He suspected strongly that it was a gift from her mother, as it was nothing like the tight streetwear she usually favoured, but he liked the way she looked in it. Like a sexy wood nymph or naughty fairy princess.

  "Nah," she laughed. "Just pretty sure that the way to a man's heart is through his dopamine receptors. So, I gotta keep you caffeinated."

  Jacob picked up the coffee, taking a long sip. It was so much better than what his little capsule machine produced, he had to admit.

  "You look anxious," Beatrix said, reaching up to run one hand through his hair. "Work giving you grief? Your dad expecting you to have ten clients already moved in?"

  "Not quite," Jacob said quickly. He tried to think of something to tell her, but instead, he reached out to finger the bright ribbon of her blouse. "I like this," he said, setting down his coffee and pulling her body flush against his own.

  Beatrix let out the softest of moans, and it sent heat and chills through his body. It was so easy to want her, he thought. So goddamn easy. A look, a touch, a sigh, and he was like an endlessly horny teenage boy all over again, no self-control at all.

  She wrinkled her nose. "My mother gave it to me," she admitted.

  "I guessed," Jacob smirked. "But you totally pull it off."

  "I'd rather you pulled it off me," Beatrix breathed as he slid one hand under the blouse and over her soft skin, teasing over the delicate flesh of her hipbone, her stomach.

  "So would I," Jacob murmured and kissed her hard. He loved the way her body seemed to melt under his, the way she kissed him back hard, every bit as ferocious and as intense as himself. He loved how she looked at him as he touched her, like she felt lucky to be with him.

  Beatrix's breath was warm on his neck, and she was wrapped right around him.

  "I'm going to put Prada outside," Jacob whispered. "Just in case..."

  Beatrix's answering smile told him he was making the right decision, even if Prada gave him a shrill yip of extreme disapproval.

  When he turned around, Beatrix had taken off her little white blouse and was sitting on the edge of his desk, her cheeks flushed, biting her lip.

  "Now, where were we?"

  "I think you were about to fuck me," Beatrix said, her voice husky. "Or was that just what I hoped?"

  "Your wish is my command," Jacob groaned, pressing into her as she wrapped her legs tight around his waist, her hot lips parting under his. His hands flew to her breasts, cupping each one and rubbing his fingers over her hardening nipples. "So gorgeous, Beatrix," he moaned. "So goddamn beautiful."

  "Always so charming," she whispered, pulling at his shirt and untucking it easily. She reached down to rub where he was so very hard for her already through his neatly ironed khakis, and he let out a groan.

  "Want you, Beatrix," he murmured. "Always want you."

  "Good," she said, pulling at his belt. "Because I've had these fantasies about doing this over your desk since... Well, I probably shouldn't tell you that."

  "God," Jacob breathed. "Really? Before we...?"

  "Way before we became a thing," she confirmed, unzipping his fly and wrapping her fingers around his hard cock, stroking him just the way he liked. Her breath tickled his earlobe, and he was almost achingly hard now. "Before I even liked you."

  "Wow," Jacob breathed. Before he had time to think anything even remotely coherent, Beatrix was dropping to her knees in front of him, and her perfect lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

  "Holy fucking shit!" he groaned, trying to stop himself from thrusting into her mouth. "That's so hot." And it was, seeing her suck him like this, in the full daylight of mid-morning, in his office where they technically could be caught. He really hoped none of Beatrix's employees would come looking for her.

  Her mouth was perfect, wet velvety heat sending spirals of ecstasy swirling through him, making him crazy with desire. The way she looked up at him through her lashes, her blue eyes wide, her lips stretched obscenely around him. The way she seemed to be loving it, to be savouring his every groan.

  "Fuck, you're going to make me—" he guided her head back, exceptionally reluctantly. "And I really want to fuck you. Have you got—"

  "Magic condoms?" Beatrix supplied, and she pulled a jar from her jeans pocket, sounding breathless. "Always, with you around."

  "Good," Jacob said, and he wrapped one arm around her waist, pressing her down onto his desk and not giving a crap about the paperwork being knocked to the ground. All that mattered was having her. He pulled off her jeans in one swift motion so she was naked and breathless beneath him. Her round breasts were heaving, her legs pressed apart to show how wet and needy she was for him, how much she wanted him.

  "You look so good," he groaned, pressing hot kisses over her neck, her collarbone, and down, down, down.

  "Want you, please!" she moaned impatiently. "Please, Jacob! Need you!"

  "Yeah?" he looked at her with a tiny smirk. "You sure?"

  Beatrix let out an exasperated cry and pulled him close, wrapping her long legs around him tightly. "Want you to fuck me. Or are you going to keep teasing me?"

  "No," Jacob groaned, and he carefully unscrewed the jar. "No more teasing. Want you too much," he spread the viscous substance over himself and groaned out loud as he pressed inside her tight, wet heat. His groan was wholly drowned out by her cry of pleasure.

  "Jacob!" she moaned. "God, so perfect!" And at that moment, he could almost believe it was true. There was no business deal, no land sale, no pressure from his family. Nothing except this exquisite pleasure with this beautiful woman who cared about him so much, who wanted him so badly. Jacob's heart was light, and his mind blissfully blank as he moved inside her, slow at first and then faster thrusts, earning cries of bliss in return.

  "Like this, don't you," he groaned, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of her neck. "Like it when I fuck you hard, don't you?"

  "Yes!" Beatrix cried out, not at all ashamed. "God, so good! You make me feel like—" she gasped out loud, tightening her legs around him. "Like nothing else. No one else."

  "God, yes," Jacob groaned. "Just me. I'm the only one that gets to have you. No one else."

  "No one," she agreed, her whole body pressing up into him with every thrust of his hips, like she couldn't get enough, ever. "Just you, Jacob. Just you."

  And that was what he needed to hear because Jacob was pretty sure he'd lose his damn mind if someone told him he had to share this perfect woman with anyone else. He felt his orgasm rising, but he was determined not to let himself come just yet. Jacob reached down, sliding one hand between their sweat-slick bodies until he found her clit, swollen and needy. Beatrix's cry was almost deafening as he pressed one fingertip over her, rubbing, circling, willing her to orgasm.

  "Oh god, Jacob, just like that!" she moaned, squeezing tight around him and making him groan even louder. "Just like that, so good!"

  Jacob didn't stop. He was determined to see Beatrix come apart for him before he spilled inside her beautiful body.

  It took every ounce of hi
s willpower to hold on, but a moment later, her body began to shake and tremble, her legs shuddering, and she threw back her head, swearing, crying out, screaming his name as she came hard underneath him.

  "Oh, fuck!" Jacob groaned as he let himself go, allowing himself to release right inside her wet heat as the last throws of orgasm wrenched through her body. Every nerve ending was on fire, every part of him mindless with bliss, and then...

  "Wow," Beatrix said softly, running her fingers through Jacob's damp hair. "That was..."

  "Incredible?" Jacob supplied, smiling into the soft skin of her shoulder.

  "Always is with you," she whispered.

  "Was that your plan, coming over?" he asked, propping himself up to look at her.

  "Not my plan, exactly," she said, grinning mischievously. "If you hadn't seemed in the mood, I would have just left your coffee and given you a very chaste kiss on the cheek."

  "But?"

  "But you definitely seemed to be in the mood."

  "Always am, for you," he said, leaning down to kiss her. "I'm so lucky."

  "Nah, it's definitely me," Beatrix said, sighing and stretching out her arms as Jacob moved off her and began to look around for their discarded clothes. "Most guys would have taken off running after meeting my mother. But you stayed."

  "it would take a lot more than Agnes to make me want to run from you," Jacob said. "I kind of like her, honestly. I mean, apart from the part where she thinks my Ordinary blood is completely unworthy of you."

  Beatrix laughed. "That's a pretty big thing to overlook."

  Jacob shrugged. "When you meet my parents, trust me, I'll be really hoping that you're willing to be open-minded."

  "So I'm going to meet them?" she asked, pulling her blouse back over her head.

  "Of course," Jacob said, but he really hoped she wouldn't press for a time frame. Not until this whole mess with Kappa was over, anyway. He remembered that Martin and Phillipe would be coming tomorrow and grimaced. How the hell was he going to hide that?

  "Actually, that reminds me," Beatrix said. "I'm going to be really busy tomorrow. Mum has invited some people over for a collaborative spell-casting, and I need to make sure they don't end up setting off a shower of shooting stars or something. So I'll be on mother-sitting duty."

  "Oh, really?" Jacob said, trying not to sound too pathetically relieved. "Is it an all-day thing?"

  "Yeah," Beatrix said, looking thoroughly annoyed. "She didn't ask, of course. Just assumed I'd be delighted to host her friends."

  "Parents are great at assuming you'll always be able to drop everything to do them a favour, huh?" Jacob scrunched up his face in sympathy. "And less great at remembering to say thank you."

  "You can say that again," Beatrix sighed. "I can't believe I'll have to wait around for her all day, doing whatever she does."

  "Well, what if I come around tomorrow night?" Jacob said. "With pizza and beer?"

  "Are you sure?" Beatrix said, but the way her eyes brightened showed that she really hoped he would. "It will be late, I bet. Well, she said it would finish in the afternoon, but I know better than to believe her."

  "I'm absolutely sure," Jacob said. "You deserve something to look forward too, after a day like that." And maybe he did, too, after a day with the Kappa people. But now, at least he didn't have to worry about how he'd hide them from Beatrix.

  "You're amazing," Beatrix sighed, stopping with her jeans halfway up her legs to lean in and kiss him. "I'm so lucky to have you."

  "I'm the lucky one," Jacob said, and he meant every word. He just wished he could ignore the pit of sickening guilt festering in his stomach that not even a mind-blowing orgasm had been able to dislodge.

  ✽✽✽

  "I think you'd better stay in the office," Jacob said to Prada fretfully. "I can't really bring you on a site tour."

  Prada gave him a hard stare and yipped.

  "I know, I should have left you with Gumbo," Jacob sighed. "But I didn't know what to say about why I couldn't have you with me today. I panicked, alright? You'll be fine, it won't take that long. Just don't pee on anything."

  Prada gave him a disgusted look, as though affronted that he would even mention her baser bodily functions.

  Jacob seriously considered walking her down to Gumbo now. Beatrix might be busy, but Onyx and Shauna wouldn't be surprised to see Prada in there with him - they spent almost as much time together as he and Beatrix did.

  He was just about to pick up her lead when he heard a car pulling up outside. He stuck his face to the window and swore softly. It was a nondescript black luxury SUV, but Jacob didn't have a single doubt in his mind that it was the Kappa crew. Too late to hide his ridiculous lapdog now, he thought.

  Jacob took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and swept his hands over the anxiety induced wrinkles in his shirt that Beatrix had so thoughtfully ironed for him. It had made him feel even more guilty because she hadn't known that sweet favour was, however indirectly, to impress the Kappa people. If she did know... Well, Jacob was pretty sure there wouldn't be any more sweet favours of any kind.

  "Stay there!" he said sharply to Prada, who had raised her head from the dog bed and begun to look as though she'd like to bark loudly at the approaching car. "Just chill, okay?"

  He knew that was futile. Prada was a fantastic companion, and he truly loved his little dog, but the one thing the neurotic Yorkie-Poo was incapable of was chilling.

  Jacob threw open the door before Phillipe and Martin reached him and plastered an enormous fake smile on his face.

  "Phillipe, Martin!" he called out genially. "Welcome to Shepherd's Crossing! Did you have a good drive out here?"

  Phillipe was looking around at the trees and bushland like he had never seen so much greenery before, and Martin was fiddling with something on a fragile-looking phone that Jacob suspected might be a prototype, as yet unavailable to normal people such as himself.

  "Jacob Jones," Phillipe said stiffly. "We have come for the tour."

  "Yes, of course," Jacob said. "Can I offer you a coffee or something before we start?"

  "Do you have organic yak butter to mix in?" Martin said, the sun hitting his glasses and making him squint.

  "Uh, no," Jacob said, wondering if Martin might just be a warlock. He laughed nervously. "Bit of a niche ingredient."

  "No," Phillipe said, looking down his long nose at him. "In our industry, we treat our bodies as machines. If you give a machine the best fuel, you will get the best results."

  "I see," Jacob said, hoping very much that whatever happened today, he wouldn't have too many more meetings with Phillipe and Martin. "Well, I don't have yak's butter, but if you'd like a black coffee or just regular milk—"

  "No point," Martin said, popping a pill from its blister pack and swallowing it dry. "It won't stimulate my brain correctly."

  Jacob forced himself to keep a straight face. "Shall we get started then?"

  At that moment, Prada decided to make her presence known, nosing open the door and staring at Martin and Phillipe from behind the safety of Jacob's legs. She let out one shrill yip before retreating.

  "What is that?" Phillipe asked, looking at Prada like she was an overgrown rat escaped from the nearest sewer.

  Jacob scooped up the shaking Prada, tucking her under one arm. "Just my dog," he said. "She, er, gets a bit nervous on her own, and so—"

  "That's your dog?" Martin sounded incredulous. He smirked. "Well, I suppose everyone is entitled to their own taste."

  "And you bring it to work?" Phillipe said, still giving Prada a wide berth. "This creature, it accompanies you to work?"

  "She's good company," Jacob said, faltering. "I work alone most days, and so—"

  "I'm not having it in the car," Phillipe interrupted.

  "Oh, right," Jacob said. "You must be allergic, I'm sorry, I—"

  "No allergy," Phillipe sneered. "I simply cannot abide vermin."

  To ensure Jacob didn't say something that would jeopardise the
whole deal, he chose that moment to turn away and return Prada to the site office, locking the door behind him. He could hear her scratch at the door from the inside and wished he could tell her how much he would rather stay with her than get into a confined space with Martin and Phillipe. You'd think they'd try a little harder to seem like decent guys and not play into the evil tech genius stereotype that Kappa was famous for. Apparently not.

  "Right," Jacob said, swallowing hard and trying his best to ensure his smile didn't get that twitchy look. "Let's get started."

  ✽✽✽

  It was only a couple of minutes' drive to the main road, but in that time, Jacob was already sick of his guests. Phillipe let out a groan of dismay at every rock and branch the SUV drove over like he was some kind of high-tech version of the princess and the pea, while Martin filled the car with thick clouds of menthol scented steam from a vape pen that looked like a disembodied robot penis.

  But Jacob was a professional. He had dealt with demanding clients before. Hell, he worked with his dad. That certainly qualified him to deal with Martin and Phillipe for a few hours.

  "Right, here we are," Jacob said, stopping the car. "This is where we'd have the main entry and exit points to the site," he explained, pointing down at the road. "It would be most convenient, just a quick trip, once that motorway ramp is built."

  Martin squinted at the road, and for the first time, looked pleased. "Convenient," he said, nodding and exhaling more menthol.

  "What is that?" Phillipe asked, pointing over at the fence and Beatrix's workshop in the distance. "Is that part of the site?"

  "Er, no," Jacob said quickly. "That's owned by someone else, it's a smallholding of just a few hectares, so it wouldn't—"

  "We'd need to acquire that as well," Phillipe said, and Martin nodded in return.