Over Hexed (The Hex Series Book 1)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He licked and sucked until her skin gleamed with moisture. He gave thanks for the return of his eyesight which allowed him to trace each freckle with the tip of his tongue until she began to writhe against the granite counter.

  Her breathing became labored. “Sean…I need…”

  Filling in the blanks took no imagination at all. He knew exactly what she needed. He slipped off her shoes but didn’t bother with her socks. Her jeans and panties took more effort, but she helped, lifting herself off the counter so he could pull them off.

  “You, too,” she murmured, her gaze hot as it swept over him.

  He had one uneasy moment as he worried about whether his body would be less than studly. He’d never had to think about that before, and it was a little unnerving. His eyesight was better, though, and so was his hair. Maybe his dick was its usual size, too.

  If not, he’d keep her too busy to notice. Vowing not to let that kind of nonsense affect his enjoyment of the moment, he shucked his clothes. As he tossed them aside, he noticed a stick of butter sitting on a saucer on the counter nearby.

  Normally he wasn’t inventive when it came to sex. He’d left that to the women who’d worked so hard to seduce him. But the nerd herbs must have affected his brain, because when he saw that butter, he became inspired. It had been placed too close to the stove and was losing its shape. Perfect.

  Plunging his fingers into it, he turned back to Maggie. All along he’d planned to butter her up, but until this moment, he hadn’t thought he’d be doing it literally.

  Her gaze traveled over him, pausing when it reached his erect penis. He fought the urge to look down and see if it measured up. When her mouth curved in a smile of appreciation, the small knot of anxiety in his chest relaxed. The getting naked part would be okay.

  Then she glanced at the butter on his fingers and sucked in a breath.

  “Hold still,” he murmured. Moving between her thighs, he began smearing the butter on her breasts.

  “Ahhhhh.” Leaning back, she closed her eyes and ran her tongue over her mouth. “Incredible.”

  The sensation of rubbing the creamy butter over her warm skin nearly sent him over the edge. If her rapid breathing was any indication, the buttery massage was having the same effect on her. His oiled hands slid over her breasts in long, sensuous strokes, as if he were molding her, shaping her for the sex they would soon have. In the light spilling from the overhead fixture, she began to gleam like polished marble.

  Scooping more butter from the dish, he extended his range, covering her ribcage and moving down over her flat tummy. Skirting his ultimate destination, he rubbed the butter over her thighs.

  He paused when he saw the faint bruise where he’d rammed into her with the skunk trap. “I did hurt you, after all.”

  Her voice was low and throaty. “Kiss it and make it better.”

  Falling to his knees, he kissed her there, gently, with a slow sweep of his tongue at the end. From the way she caught her breath, he imagined he could read her mind. Slowly he began massaging butter onto her inner thighs, making circles that brought him ever closer to his final destination.

  The scent of her drew him, made his cock throb with wanting her. But first…his oiled fingers thrust deep, sliding effortlessly inside her wet channel as she arched upward and groaned. Leaning forward, he used his tongue in rhythm with his fingers, while his senses filled with the aroma of warm butter and hot woman.

  She whimpered and braced her feet on his shoulders. As she began to thrash about on the slippery counter, he grasped her hips with both hands and pressed his mouth fully against her heat. With a strangled cry, she came, her body quaking in his grip.

  He nearly came himself, but forced himself to ignore the pounding need in his groin. As the urge to climax ebbed, he held her, kissing her damp curls until she grew still and her breathing slowed. Still on his knees, he dragged his jeans over with one hand and found the condom in his pocket. He put it on while kneeling there, afraid if he stood, his legs might not hold him. He’d never been so dizzy with lust.

  Using the support of the counter, he pulled himself to his feet. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, her oiled breasts quivering with every breath. Her sexy vulnerability gave him new strength.

  She was perched a little too high for him to take her while she sat on the counter. “Wrap your legs around my hips,” he murmured.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and they were darkened by the same needs flowing through him. Wordlessly, holding his gaze, she clutched his shoulders and circled his hips with her legs.

  Sliding her slick body off the counter, he lowered her just enough…right there. With a guttural sound of satisfaction, he pushed home.

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted. The flame flickering in her blue eyes ignited as his fingers dug into her soft bottom, holding them both steady. If he came now, they would collapse onto the floor. And he was so close.

  Thank God for a small kitchen. Turning away from the counter, he eased her to the table. Silverware clattered to the floor as he swept it aside. Then he lowered her to the smooth surface. Keeping his feet on the floor, he leaned forward, rubbing his chest against her gleaming skin.

  The sensual friction, made even more erotic by the slickness of the melted butter, wiped out what was left of his control. Easing his hips back, he began pumping hard and fast, sliding back and forth across her belly and her breasts with each rapid movement of his hips.

  She stayed right with him, clutching his arms and begging for more. Their pace grew more frantic, until the table rocked and the wooden legs thumped the floor with each thrust. He meant to wait for her, meant to make sure that she came again, but his climax would not be denied.

  The impending force of it wrenched a groan from him that filled the tiny kitchen. As he drove into her, the spasms ripping through him, she lifted her hips and cried out his name. Her orgasm rolled over his penis, intensifying his contractions until he wondered if he would disintegrate from the power of it.

  Finally there was no sound but their ragged breathing. He rested his cheek against her shoulder and shifted his arm position. In the process he brushed against something, and the last piece of silverware fell to the floor with a tinny clang. He smiled. End of Round One.

  Maggie had promised herself she wouldn’t regret having sex with Sean, and it was going to be an easy promise to keep. As she lay stretched out on his kitchen table in a stupor of satisfaction, she couldn’t imagine regretting the most uninhibited experience of her life.

  She didn’t recognize this Maggie Grady. The person she’d thought she was would never be caught naked and smeared with butter in the kitchen of a man she’d met twelve hours ago. Could that possibly be right? Had she only met Sean this morning?

  Of course, that was the point of uninhibited behavior. You didn’t assess the situation for days before you took action. You seized the moment. Which she had pretty much done when she’d started taking off her clothes.

  Sean nuzzled her ear. “You okay?”

  The warmth of his mouth made her shiver with pleasure. “Couldn’t be better.”

  “That wasn’t too wild?”

  “It was the wildest thing I’ve ever done.” She ran a finger up his backbone. “And I loved it.”

  “Good to know. So did I.”

  “Good therapy?”

  “The best.” His breath tickled her neck. “But I haven’t fed you yet.”

  “I just found out something. Climaxes make me forget about food.”

  “Me, too.” He lifted his head and brushed his lips across hers. “How do you feel about shared showers?”

  “Think we need one?”

  “Nah.” He nibbled on her lower lip. “I just want the pleasure of lathering you up.”

  That one little suggestion was all it took for her to start feeling achy and liquid again. After this session in his kitchen, she had no trouble believing Sean was the toast of Big Knob’s female population. Stupid as it was, she was feeli
ng a little jealous about that.

  She pinched his firm butt. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

  Propping himself on one elbow, he looked down at her. “You probably won’t believe this, but I don’t say that to all the girls.”

  She gazed back at him. He was a little blurry, but she could make out the sparkle in his green eyes. “Okay, then, most of the girls.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “None of the girls.”

  “C’mon. I’m not that naïve. I know you’ve had a lot of sex.”

  “Yeah, but as I’ve explained before, I was never the instigator.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Poor you. Suffering through all those horizontal tangos.”

  “I didn’t suffer, but I didn’t make sexy suggestions, either. Didn’t need to.”

  “So they’d be the ones dragging you into the shower with them?”

  “Pretty much.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “But I like this way better. Let’s go.”

  Before she quite knew his intention, he’d slid off of her, leaned down and hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  “Hey, I can walk!”

  “But isn’t this more fun?”

  “I’ll let you know when it’s over. You might bang my head against the door jamb on your way to the shower.” Yet she was secretly thrilled with his take-charge attitude.

  No man had ever hauled her off to the shower where he intended to have his way with her. And there was no doubt that Sean intended to have his way with her. She planned to let him, too.

  Moments later she was leaning against the tiled wall of Sean’s shower because the way he was soaping her up had turned her legs into wet noodles. Who knew her belly button was a pleasure point? She’d heard that some women liked having the backs of their knees stroked, but she’d never understood why until Sean did it with soapy hands.

  Then he showed her how much she loved having someone rub the inside of her elbows and the arch of each foot. She seemed to be chock full of erogenous zones, not even counting the obvious places, like her breasts.

  Naturally, when he finally slipped his hand between her thighs, she went ballistic. But he didn’t let her go totally ballistic. He stopped before she was able to come, which was slightly frustrating.

  Then he turned on the hand-held shower, and she understood his evil plan. “I get that next,” she said.

  “You get it now.” He began running the spray over her body.

  “No, I mean I get to use it on you.”

  “Maybe.” He trained the spray on her nipples until they tightened into hard little buds. “If you’re good.”

  She sank back against the tile as she began to tremble from the effects of the water. “And what does that mean?”

  “I want you to come for me.”

  She gasped as he brought the pulsing jets down over her belly. She knew exactly where he was going with that thing, and she could hardly wait. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  He handed her the shower head. “Then it’s all yours.”

  She almost dropped it. “But I thought you…I thought you were going to…”

  “So did I.” His eyes glowed with hunger. “That was my original idea. But I seem to be getting more creative in my old age. I’d rather watch you do it.”

  “To myself?” Her voice squeaked.

  “Uh, huh.” His gaze taunted her. “Think you can?”

  “I don’t know.” But there was a vixen inside her clamoring to get out. That vixen had loved having sex on the kitchen table. She would probably also love masturbating with the shower head in front of this extremely sexy man.

  Maggie swallowed. Then she took a shaky breath and spread her legs. “Okay. Watch this.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sean had thought he knew what good sex was all about. After all, until about a year ago he’d been having it constantly, and he’d felt satisfied after every episode. Turned out he’d been clueless.

  He’d allowed his partners to have all the ideas, and naturally they’d done what turned them on. He was beginning to understand what turned him on, and watching Maggie work with the shower head was definitely high on his list.

  She was tentative at first, whisking the spray over that triangle of red curls as if she were washing a car. She wouldn’t look at him, either. He waited, waited for her to get serious about giving herself an orgasm. Surely she’d done that before, but maybe not with an audience.

  Gradually her movements became more focused. Then she glanced up at him, ran her tongue over her lips, and pressed that nozzle tight against her crotch. He trembled in a sudden rush of adrenaline, as if he were about to come instead of her. Maybe he could, just as a not-so-innocent bystander. But he wouldn’t. This was all about her.

  He knew the moment she abandoned her shyness, the moment nothing mattered but what was going on in her hot little body. Her eyes got very bright and she began to breathe quickly through her mouth.

  Then she leaned against the shower wall and lifted that sweet pussy so the shower head could give it maximum stimulation. She moaned and shifted her position again, gaining even more access to the pulsing jets. Sean wondered if he’d be able to stand there without touching her. He ached unbearably.

  But he’d asked her to do this, and he wouldn’t interfere. He just…wished…she’d…come. Then she did, gasping and writhing against the slick tile as she clutched the showerhead so tightly that her knuckles showed white.

  She let it go, and it whipped around, blasting him and the rest of the shower stall as it twirled on its connection. She didn’t seem to notice. She was lost in the grip of her climax, and he was right there with her, experiencing the spasms as if they were his own.

  But they weren’t, and he was stiff as a Jedi light saber. He wouldn’t blame her if she was ready to call it quits for now, though. She was panting like a long-distance runner, and her cheeks were the color of ripe strawberries.

  She turned her gaze on him, as if asking what next.

  “We can get dressed now, if you want,” he said.

  She surveyed him, her attention lingering on the light saber look-alike that was pointed straight at her. She cleared her throat. “You might…you might have trouble getting that out of sight.”

  If he hadn’t been so damned aroused he might have laughed. “A little cold water should do the trick.”

  “I have a better idea.” Grabbing the dangling shower head, she walked over toward him and sank to her knees.

  He wondered if her idea had any similarity to his. He sure hoped so.

  Slowly she worked him over with the pulsing jets, making sure to hit his penis and his balls with equal accuracy. He couldn’t decide if it felt good or if she was only taking him higher with no relief in sight.

  Apparently that was only her warm-up exercise, because next she filled her mouth with warm water from the shower head. Holding it there, she took his penis in her mouth without spilling hardly any of that water. He knew because he was watching her, which only added to the pressure building in his groin.

  When she began to swish that warm water around so it rippled over the sensitive underside of his shaft, he lost the battle in two seconds. He had no time to think of whether this was cool, or whether she’d storm out of the shower in protest afterward. He just came because that was all he could do under those conditions.

  And she…swallowed.

  He’d tried so hard to stay neutral on the issue of Maggie, knowing she’d leave town soon, knowing she had no plans for a future with him. But when he heard the soft sound of her throat moving, he knew he’d been kidding himself. He was in up to the hilt of his cock. When it came to Maggie Grady, there was no easy way out. Not anymore.

  Maggie wasn’t used to offering blow jobs, especially this early in a relationship. But apparently all her usual behavior had gone out the window when it came to Sean. Somehow he’d flipped the switch from Be Cautious to Anything Goes. She couldn�
��t turn back now.

  Truth was, she didn’t want to turn back. They laughed and kidded like old friends as they toweled each other off. Then they found their clothes, struggled into them, and ate a little cold meat loaf and congealed mashed potatoes before they bundled up in their coats and headed outside to check on the skunks.

  None of this seemed the least bit strange to her. Someday it might, but for now, she was going along with the program. She was having too much fun to question whether she was being foolish or wise.

  “Stay by the front corner of the house,” Sean said as they descended the back steps. “Let me see if they’re in there or not.” His breath made little clouds in the cold air.

  Maggie paused where she’d been instructed to wait. The night seemed sort of glittery, like the lighting in an Italian restaurant, so she looked up to see if the clouds had moved away. They were gone, but omigod, the stars. She’d never seen so many.

  “Is this normal?” she whispered.

  He turned back. “Probably not, but I’m doing it, anyway.”

  “No, I mean the stars. Are we having a meteor shower or something like that?”

  Sean glanced skyward. “Not that I can see.”

  “But they’re everywhere.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I could never live in the city.”

  That was certainly pointed. He’d almost come right out and said that if she’d had any idea that he’d follow her like a puppy dog back to Houston, she might as well kill the thought. So she would. Thoughtful of him to remind her that this canoodling, though delicious, was temporary.

  Crouching beside a pile of evergreen branches, Sean turned his flashlight beam to low and swung it over the ground. “Paw prints,” he murmured. “Good deal.”

  “Is the trap closed?” Maggie called out softly.

  “Not yet.” He reached under the branches.

  Maggie held her breath. Belatedly she remembered that skunks had teeth. They could bite the hand that was trying to save them.