Witches of Three_Seraphina

by Temple Hogan

  They came together this time, her screams ringing in his ears, her muscles gobbling his penis while he pumped as long as he could before the top of his cock exploded inside her and he shouted hoarsely, then lost sight of where he was and who he was.

  They held onto each other for a long time, their muscles slowly unclenching, their breath returning, their heat radiating between them until it was as if they’d melted into each other and were one. She was limp when he moved away, letting her limbs fall against the bed like a rag doll.

  “That was incredible,” she whispered. “I’ve never known anything like that before.”

  She smiled at him dreamily, and suddenly he was overcome with jealousy. What other men had she had? How many? When? He wanted to find them and kill them all.

  She seemed unaware of his rage. She lay quiet and spent, while he struggled to overcome his feelings. She was just a woman, he reminded himself, like any other.

  Not like any other woman—better, much better.

  He looked at the ceiling and sighed. God in heaven, what was he going to do about Sera Spencer?

  Chapter Seven

  “I want to go out,” Jack said like a petulant child.

  Even his lips were pouting in such a delectable way she wanted to bite them gently, then give him a kiss that would make him take her back to bed. But that would lead to more sex, and he’d said he was tired of just sex in their relationship. How many men got tired of sex? None that she knew of, although she admitted her expertise was rather limited.

  An Incubus ploy! She was getting wise to his ways. Smiling indulgently, because after all, she was way ahead of him, she put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. They’d been together for five days, and most of that time had been spent in her bedroom. Of course, they came out long enough to eat, and once in a while, he went off on some mysterious errand. Most of the time, they made love, slept and talked, in that order. He wanted to know everything about her, her mother and sisters, her missing father, even the old man, Owen Cutter. Patiently, she explained how the old man had come to live in her guesthouse. Thinking he, like her mother, was concerned for her welfare, she reassured him, Owen was a quiet, gentle man and that she liked having him around. Later, when she saw Jack go out to talk to him, she’d been pleased to see the two men seemed to get along.

  Jack was a restless sort, she decided, and he’d grown tired of their cozy little arrangement. Since she was perfectly happy to stay as they were, she was disappointed that he wanted more. Now, at his words, she smiled gamely.

  “Where would you like to go?” she asked and tried not to be hurt when his expression perked up.

  “Anywhere. No, someplace with good food, doesn’t even have to be good, since I’m being fed by an expert chef. Someplace with at least passable food and a great band, so we can dance. You do dance, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for her response. “That means only one place. Sam’s Joint!” He bounded out of bed and started drawing on his clothes.

  “Tonight at seven, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll have a date.”

  “I don’t see what’s so important about having a date, but if that’s what you want, I’ll be ready.”

  “Baby, we’ll have fun,” he said, sitting on the side of bed and giving her a quick, yet thorough kiss before putting on his shoes. “All we’ve done since I met you was stay here and fuck, and although there’s nothing wrong with that…” He paused and shook his head. “I must be crazy to even object.”

  “I thought you liked that,” Sera said with a pout of her own.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I want to take you out and show you off. I want to talk and find out more things about you and meet your friends.” He turned and leered at her. “Then I want to come home and fuck your brains out.”

  She laughed. “I’d like that too.”

  “Good. See you at seven.” He leaned over the bed and kissed her then he was gone.

  Like a happy little boy looking forward to some grand adventure. She sat thinking of what this all implied and decided he was getting tired of her! He found her boring! She bit her nails and considered. What if he left her and returned to wherever Incubi go when they’re not engaged with a human? She took a deep breath and decided. Okay, she’d make a big effort for tonight. She’d try to be more exciting for him.

  She’d give up her quiet, normal look, what did Phil call it? Frumpy! She didn’t want Jack to find her frumpy. She tried to think what style he might like. She pored over the latest magazines, but they were too conservative, and she realized, in her quest to be normal, she had indeed become boring. Time for a change, a major change. She had to work fast and decide what to wear. Jack had said he’d be back at seven. That only gave her a few hours.

  Surely, the stores downtown would have something suitable. Stop, don’t think that way—not suitable, knockout sexy. Something that made her so irresistible to him, he’d never even consider leaving the house but would carry her back to the bedroom and make love to her all night. So she had a goal, and she went about securing it in the only way she knew how, totally focused.

  She scoured the stores until her feet ached and came up empty-handed. She’d seen some beautiful things, but nothing that was just right. She knew her indecision came from her lack of experience in shopping for knockout clothes. She thought of calling her sisters for help. They would happily rush to the rescue, bossing her around, taking charge, and when they were finished, she wouldn’t be herself anymore. She’d be copies of them.

  She returned home in despair. Jack would be back to pick her up in an hour. What was she going to do? She had stopped at the bookstore and picked up some aggressively provocative couturier magazines. She dumped them on her bed and looked at the covers. One caught her eye, and she opened it to the pages of women on the town, their skinny boyish bodies clothed in smashing outfits, impossibly high, sandaled shoes and long shapely legs that Sera envied but knew she could never aspire to. She was too short and too curvy.

  Idly, she thumbed through some more pages and came to a Latino model of regular proportions wearing an orange salsa dress. Sera perked up, remembering the time they’d tried to dress up Charlie when her hot boss had showed up unexpectedly. Phil had put Charlie in a hot little salsa number. That would work on Sera, except it should be red. She’d always wanted to wear red.

  With a snap of her finger, she duplicated the dress in the magazine only in a gorgeous shade of red and was shocked and pleased with the way she looked. Strapless, its bodice was covered in shimmering sequins. The barely there skirt was gathered in several layers of tulle with sequins sprinkled like stars over it. And her short legs in the matching strappy heels made her legs look as if they were never going to end. Getting into the whole thing now, she brushed her hair until it gleamed then swirled it into a twist high on her head, leaving the ends standing out like bird plumage, then completed it with a satin beaded headpiece that curled around one side of her head. She applied makeup to her eyes, cheeks and lips and was amazed at the results. Her eyes looked deep and mysterious, her lips gleamed with a kiss-me sheen.

  She was going to shock Jack’s eyes right out of his head, she decided, and practiced walking in the heels, striving for that predatory, hip-jutting stalk executed by some women. Ah, perfume, she snapped her finger and sprayed liberally the thousand dollars an ounce concoction that appeared in a Lalique bottle. She was really getting into this, she thought, and continued her stalking-walk, which came to a disastrous conclusion when she tripped and nearly fell before she caught herself. Okay, maybe there was a trick to walking in such high heels. Whatever it was, she didn’t know it. She’d just content herself with looking like a femme fatale and walking as carefully as she could, which meant stiffening her knees and bobbing along. Okay, when she walked, she looked like a gangster’s moll in a B-rated movie of old, but at least she could ambulate.

  The doorbell rang, and she hobbled to answer.

  “My god, you’re even more beautif
ul,” he said, staring at her with shiny eyes.

  In fact, his gaze was so intent she blushed and looked away. She would have liked nothing more than to throw off her new finery and entice him to bed, but she was going to play it his way for now. She was sure a reward awaited her before the night was over.

  “Close your mouth,” she said, laughing at him.

  He looked as if he wanted to devour her, and she wanted to be devoured, but for now, she was in the mood to go out on the town. This was kind of fun.

  “Do you have a wrap?” Jack asked.

  “Do I need one?”

  “Not really,” he answered. “It’s just that this is a little fancy for Sam’s Joint.”

  “Do you want me to change?” She shook her hips a little bit and smiled at him.

  “God, no!” he breathed and took hold of her arm.

  She hobbled along beside him until he glanced at her, in which case, she used her witchy powers and moved along just above the cement.

  “Those shoes make you so much taller,” he said, and he didn’t seem displeased.

  “What’s wrong with short?” she challenged, suddenly sorry she’d gone to all the trouble.

  “Not a darn thing,” he said, helping her into the car. “I like short, especially when it’s packaged in a sexy female body. God, you smell good.” His grin was so boyish, so eager that her good humor was restored.

  Once they’d entered the restaurant, Sera was pretty sure a lot of diners would have whiplash from turning to stare at her. The women were frowning, their husbands were gawking, and she thought of saying something like, ‘don’t hate me because I’m beautiful’, but that would only make them hate her worse. So she followed the waiter to their table, taking great care to strut, knowing Jack, who was following her, had an excellent view of her undulating hips. As they were seated, she noted that his face was flushed and his eyes gleamed with a hard, bright light that sent her temperature up a whole bunch of notches. She made her smile lazy and sensuous and raked one fingertip across the top of her sequined bodice, just in case he hadn’t noticed her décolletage. His expression showed he had.

  “You’re a tease,” he growled, leaning closer to her.

  “Moi?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “Behave,” he admonished. “So I can get through this damned dinner.”

  “But you wanted to go out,” she said innocently. “You were tired of staying at home with me. Maybe you were even growing tired of me?” She ended her words on a throaty note and saw the surprise in his eyes.

  “Are you kidding?” he asked, obviously shocked by her suggestion.

  Sera’s ego soared. She liked this game between men and women. She wasn’t as inept as she’d thought herself to be. She placed her hand over his and let her fingers caress his palm. He drew in his breath and clasped her hand in his. He looked around like a man looking for an escape route, but the waiter appeared out of nowhere to deposit menus and take their drink orders. They were committed.

  When they were alone again, Jack took her hand once more and leaned closer. “I love that perfume,” he muttered. “It gets all tangled up in a man’s senses.”

  She smiled, mysteriously she hoped.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  His hand brushed across the top of her shoulders, sending delicious shivers down her body. She wasn’t sure what she drank or ate or even if she did. Every thought and response was pinned on Jack, and he seemed to be the same way toward her. They could have saved the cost of an expensive meal and stayed home. Then the band began to play, and suddenly she wanted to dance. Jack seemed to read her mind because he pulled her to her feet and led her to the floor.

  The music had a slight Latino beat, and they swayed to its gentle rhythm until the tempo changed and took on a bold sound that demanded they follow. Sera lost herself in the dance, twirling and wriggling her hips, while the short skirt flared around her. She couldn’t walk in those damn high heels, but she could certainly dance in them. Jack guided her around the floor, and she followed, her arms raised gracefully above her head, her feet flashing, legs pumping and her torso twisting to the beat. Jack kept up with her, supporting her dance steps, whirling with her, catching her when she needed him. They danced as one, and when the music stopped, they stood in the middle of the floor, bodies taut and arched like two bullfighters facing off.

  Jack’s eyes glinted with a special light that sent her blood boiling through her veins. All around them, people clapped, making Sera aware of their audience. She stepped back, swishing her skirt dramatically as she circled Jack. He faced away from her, watching her out of the corners of his eyes. Grabbing her hand, he swung her around and pulled her tightly against him then walked from the floor. Her slick high heels glided along the floor. At the table, he released her and held her hand elegantly while she sank into a chair. The air around them was electric, and she shivered. Jack’s gaze held hers, and she wanted nothing more than to be at home in her bed, with Jack beside her and in her. She could tell by his expression that was what he wanted too. She was going to suggest they leave when two familiar voices hailed her.

  “Sera, baby, we didn’t know you were here,” Phil called, rushing up.

  “Wow, how did you learn to dance like that?” Charlie demanded right behind. They might have been speaking to their youngest sister, but their gazes were pinned on Jack.

  “Hello, I’m Charlie, Sera’s sister and you’re—I don’t believe I caught your name.” Charlie held out her hand so no one could ever ignore her.

  “Jack Trent,” he said and took her hand with far more alacrity than Sera would have imagined.

  How dare her sisters show up like this, pretending not to know the man she was with. It was because of them and their interference that Jack was in her life.

  “This is our other sister, Philomena or Phil as she prefers to be called,” Charlie was explaining.

  “We’re so glad to meet you,” Phil gushed. “This is my husband, Beck, and this is Charlie’s spouse, Nick Hilliard.” She glanced at Sera, her eyes bright with curiosity.

  “I hope you’ll excuse us, we were just on our way to the ladies’ room.”

  “Sera, you want to go too, don’t you?” Charlie said, taking her hand and yanking her forward. “We’ll be right back, gentlemen. Order more drinks.”

  Sera had no chance to object as she was hustled along to the private lounge for ladies. Once inside, they closed the door and turned on her.

  “Where did you find such a gorgeous man?” Charlie demanded.

  “And what have you done to yourself?” Phil asked, waving at Sera’s outfit. “And why does that dress look so familiar?”

  “That’s the one you put me in when Nick came to your house that first time,” Charlie said.

  “That’s right!” Phil looked at Sera. “You sly little fox. You wanted to put her in loafers and plaid skirts. Now look at you.”

  “Just leave me alone,” Sera said, making a slashing motion. “You know very well you’re behind all this. You sent Jack to me the night of Charlie’s wedding.”

  “What do you mean?” Charlie demanded, her eyes wide and innocent.

  “Oh, don’t act as if you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Sera sneered. “You know he’s an Incubus, and you set it up for him to come to my house and pretend to be a plumber.”

  Phil and Charlie exchanged puzzled glances, mouths open. “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” they said in unison.

  “Sure, you don’t,” Sera said scornfully. “I knew from the very beginning what you’d done. I told you not to interfere with my life, but no, you had to do something for poor little Sera.”

  “We haven’t meddled,” Phil said blankly. “You told us not to, and we talked it over and decided to give you a little more time. Charlie was busy with her honeymoon and Beck and I…” She paused and flushed. “Well, we’re trying to make a baby, so we’ve been kind of preoccupied.”

  “What liars! Shame on you!�
� Sera snapped.

  “Seriously,” Charlie said. “I haven’t given you a thought for the past couple of weeks. Besides, you don’t need our help if you can find guys like him. He’s yummy, not as yummy as Nick, but still, he’s awesome.”

  Sera looked at her sisters. They were interfering and bossy and unstoppable when they made up their minds, but she could never remember their lying to her before. Now, they met her gaze head-on and slowly shook their heads.

  “Then who… Where did Jack come from?” Sera asked.

  “That’s what we’d like to know,” Phil chortled. “He’s gorgeous, not as gorgeous as Beck, of course.”

  “I know, I know, not as gorgeous or manly as Beck or Nick, but the next best.”

  Her sisters nodded and smiled happily.

  “Grab him, baby. He’s too good to let get away.”

  “Grab him,” Sera said, her anger rising. “I’m going to grab him and stuff him in the nearest trashcan.”

  Chapter Eight

  She’d been tricked. She wasn’t sure by whom, but by someone. She refused to think it might have been by her own imagination. She pushed through the swinging door into the restaurant and stalked to the table where the three men were seated. Even in her anger, she noted that the three guys were talking easily as if they were already becoming friends, and of the three of them, Jack stood out heads above the other two, no matter what her sisters said.

  She pushed her admiration aside and thought about the fool she’d made of herself over and over again, believing Jack was an Incubus. He must think she was a kook. Still, he’d stuck around. He’d come back time and again to be with her. She should be happy, and she was, just not right this minute. Not when she had a lot of questions that had to be answered like, who the hell was Jack Trent?

  Was he a plumber as he’d claimed the first time she’d found him in her kitchen? Maybe, maybe not. Some things just hadn’t added up but, lost in the shivery excitement of great sex with an incredibly handsome man, and her own misconception that he was an Incubus sent by her sisters, she’d ignored the discrepancies. Now she slid into a chair next to Jack, moistened her lips, leaned forward so her breasts plumped up over the low cut dress and fixed him with the sexiest smile she could manage. She was going for ‘blister-the-skin-off-his-body’ sexy.