by Deanna Chase
It scared me a little. I hadn’t had a one-night stand in over a month. And I’d been working spells with Chessandra almost daily, so I knew I was depleted. But this response was shocking. It was as if I were dying of thirst almost. I had to have something to tide me over until we got down to business.
I moved my hands from his shoulders and curled my fingers into his hair at the base of his neck. He stiffened for a slight moment and then ran one hand up my spine, sending tingles to all my nerve endings.
What the hell was going on with this guy? I made a conscious effort to rein in my sexual energy. He was affecting me entirely too much.
“What’s your name?” he asked in a husky take-me-to-bed tone.
“Matisse,” I said, pleased when my voice didn’t falter. “And you would be?”
He inclined his head and his rich, bourbon-colored eyes met mine with lust lurking in their depths. “The guy who’s going to make you come in about five minutes.”
Chapter 2
Vaughn
The sexy siren froze at my words, and I held back the grin trying desperately to break free. There was no doubt in my mind that if I hauled her to the bathroom, I’d have her screaming my name within minutes. That is if I decided to give it to her. Everything about her was screaming sex, from her long dark locks to her never-ending legs. But those eyes. That’s where her heat was originating. I’d noticed them the moment she’d walked in the club.
My gaze landed on the Ken doll she’d been dancing with. Hell no. The last thing I’d let her do was go home with him. I didn’t see her with Mr. Nice. Not at all. Shari would take care of him. Not that I thought Matisse had any real interest in that other guy. He was just a casualty in the mating ritual we’d started the moment we’d each decided to let the other make the first move.
“What did you just say?” she asked.
I chuckled. “I think you heard me.”
“Presumptuous bastard, aren’t you?” But she said it with a smile in her voice.
This was going to be interesting. “Only when a gorgeous woman picks me for a round of body shots.”
She shrugged, not even trying to deny the game had been rigged. “I’m used to getting what I want.”
There it was again. That undeniable sexual tension radiating from her. It called to me, made me want to drag her off to the nearest hotel room and do unspeakable things until she was gasping in pleasure. My groin tightened. Son of a bitch. My control had all but left the building. “Want to get out of here?”
She raised one of those perfectly arched eyebrows. “Not the bathroom?”
I scanned her body, taking in her jewel-encrusted designer heels, her barely there skirt, and the silky, off-the-shoulder top. She screamed seduction and class. “I get the feeling you’d prefer something a little more upscale than a graffiti-covered stall.”
Her clever fingers curled into my hair once more as she leaned in, her warm breath tickling my ear. “What did you have a mind?”
“I have a place in the Garden District if you’re game.”
She glanced at the dark-haired girl she’d entered the bar with. A silent form of communication passed between them, and I assumed that was girl code for I’m leaving with this guy. If I don’t turn up in the morning, this is who you’re looking for.
There wasn’t anything to worry about. I already knew she was some sort of witch. My stepmom and brother were both witches. I could sense their magic. Only Matisse’s power was stronger than either of theirs. If she wanted to, she could probably spell my ass to Hell and back. But she wouldn’t. She wanted me. No question.
I’d never had trouble attracting the opposite sex. My stepmom speculated I had some sort of magical power that drew women to me. I didn’t know about that, but most nights I went out, I had more than my share of females to choose from. Real hardship, right? Only it wasn’t nearly as satisfying when I didn’t have to put any effort into the chase.
But this girl? She’d made it obvious she was interested and then promptly let me know I wasn’t the only game in town. And even though I knew she wanted me, knew I would have her before the night was over, she wasn’t handing herself over willingly either. If she were, we’d have already been in that bathroom stall.
“Maybe we should grab a coffee first,” she said, tapping a message into her phone. “You know… learn each other’s names before I let you get your hands on my black lace.”
Leave it to her to wear black under her white skirt. “It’s not your lace I’m interested in,” I lied. Nothing sounded sexier than seeing her creamy breasts spilling out of her bra.
“I bet.” She clasped her hand lightly around my fingers and led the way to the front door. I followed all too willingly. When was the last time I’d left a club with a girl for coffee? That was somewhere around never.
Out on the sidewalk, I took the lead through the residential streets that surrounded the university. “My ride is this way.”
Matisse hovered close to me, the cool December air causing gooseflesh to rise on her arms. I wrapped an arm around her and tucked her close to my body. Damn if she didn’t fit perfectly, as if she was made to be plastered to my side. Her hair smelled of berries and cream, making my mouth water with anticipation. If she smelled this good, what the hell would she taste like? I’d find out soon enough.
“This is it.” I stopped next to the 2000 Indian Chief I’d gotten in a trade for a restored vintage model.
“Nice. Love the custom paint.” Matisse eyed the black-and-silver marbled paint job, wrapping her arms around herself to guard against the cold.
I pulled my leather jacket out of the saddlebag and handed it to her. “Here. This should help.”
“Thanks.” She shrugged into the too-large jacket and smiled gratefully. “But I don’t think I can get on that thing with you.”
“Why? Too scared?” I said, with a challenge in my tone.
She laughed. “Not on your life. I’ve been riding since I was ten.”
I sent her a look of admiration, and a ripple of that sexual tension seized me. “Really? And what exactly do you ride?”
“A Harley Sportster. It’s easier to manipulate than your Indian and more reliable than a vintage model.”
Jesus, this girl was sexy. “Then why can’t you get on my bike? Is it the skirt?”
Her dark smoldering eyes met mine as she gave me a haughty smile. “No. I don’t take rides from strangers.”
A ripple of laughter reverberated through my chest. I never had told her my name. I held out a hand. “It’s Vaughn. Vaughn Paxton.”
She slipped her smooth hand into mine. “It’s nice to meet you, Vaughn.”
“Likewise, Matisse…”
“Call me Mati.” Her smile vanished as she bit her lower lip.
“Something wrong?” I asked, not letting go of her hand.
“Oh no.” Her sexy smile was back. “Nothing at all. Now, how about that coffee?”
At this point, I’d take this girl just about anywhere she wanted to go. The thought made me shift with unease. I’d gone from wanting a quick interlude in the club’s bathroom to taking her back to my place for a much longer night of passion to settling for just about anything she was willing to give. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thoughts. Whatever was going on wasn’t normal.
“You okay?” she asked with an air of innocence that I wasn’t buying.
“Yeah. Just clearing my head.” I climbed on my bike. “Ready?”
She eyed me and my prized Indian. Then she nodded once, hitched up her skirt, and swung her exposed leg over the seat before settling in behind me. The fact that her bare thighs were clasped around me made me instantly hard. If I didn’t get her back to my apartment soon, I was going to lose it and take her right there on the bike.
I pulled my helmet on and handed her my extra. After both were secured, I fired the bike to life and roared away from the curb, reveling in the way her lean body was pressed to my back. Usually I preferred to ride al
one as most of the girls clung to me, rigid and scared, when I leaned into turns or zipped between traffic. But not this girl. She kept a light grip, leaned into the turns with me, and whooped after I zigzagged past a line of cars stopped behind a broken-down SUV.
By the time I pulled up to my place, she was laughing and her hot breath on my neck was causing my blood to boil with intense need. Jesus. What happened to my self-control?
I turned my upper body and craned my neck, catching her lips in a scalding kiss. Her hot tongue caressed mine in a slow, sensual exploration. The underlying need was there, but she was holding back, enjoying the moment for all it was worth. I stifled a groan and pulled away. “Inside,” I ordered.
She raised both eyebrows in curious amusement, then slid slowly off the back seat. “I thought we were going for coffee.”
“There’s coffee inside.”
“What exactly do you think is going to happen once you have me all to yourself?”
I grabbed her hand and tugged her up the six steps to my front porch. I lived on the ground floor of an old Victorian that had been turned into a four-plex. At least I did for right now. In my line of work, it didn’t pay to hang around any place for too long. Being a bounty hunter means I’m often a target for revenge. Especially when I’m usually asked to track down those with paranormal abilities. I’d had to move five times in the last two years.
When we were standing in front of my door, I yanked her to me and buried my hands in her dark hair. Kissing her roughly, I forced my tongue between her lips and devoured her until she gasped.
I’d claim every inch of her before the night was over.
She tensed, her hands digging into my biceps. But as I backed her up against the door and pressed my body to hers, she molded to me, her arms wrapping around me and tightening as she moaned with pleasure.
Yes. I could stand right there for hours, making her mine without ever taking a piece of clothing off her. But then her breath grew short and she pulled away, whispering, “Take me inside.”
“In a moment.” With her lips swollen and her eyes glazed with lust, I grasped her hips and jerked her forward, letting her experience my hard length. “Tell me how this makes you feel.”
She didn’t hesitate. There was no careful consideration of thought. Just pure unfiltered passion. “Like I want to wrap my lips around you and taste every inch of you.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
I crushed my lips to her once more and then yanked away to jam my key in the lock. Once I had it open, I pulled her to me once more. Staring her in the eye, I walked backward through the threshold, never easing my hold. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” My voice was low, husky with promise. Or was that a threat?
She laughed and ran a red fingernail along my jawline. “Are you?”
Kicking the door shut, I spun us both around and pressed her against the wall.
Her smile never faltered. That confidence was so damn sexy. So alluring. Almost as if she believed she’d orchestrated this scenario. Hell, maybe she had. She’d been the one to make the first move after all. Well, if she started it, I was damn sure going to finish it.
With steady hands, I pushed my jacket off her bare shoulders. She leaned back, letting it fall to the floor. Lust hit me hard as I took her lower lip in mine and sucked gently until her eyes fluttered closed on a moan. Then with a willpower I didn’t know I possessed, I stepped back, leaving her breathless against the wall. My gaze started at her sparkling red toenails, traveled up her exposed thigh, and then over her long neck and those intense eyes.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked quietly.
“For you. I want you to strip.”
Chapter 3
Matisse
Amusement skated through me. This guy was perfect. Exactly what I wanted in a sex partner. Forceful, take charge, an alpha that had the control none of my previous partners could maintain. Not when my sex-witch pheromones were in full force like they were right now. I was depleted enough that I couldn’t rein them in. I needed this release more than he could know. And not just because I had a spell to work tomorrow.
I wanted him. Wanted him more than I could remember wanting anyone ever. It was as if he had his own magic affecting me in some way. I didn’t think so. At least I couldn’t feel it. But if he did, all the better. I couldn’t wait to get him naked.
Taking a step away from the wall, I slipped my heels off and stood barefoot on his perfectly polished hardwood floors. And then in slow motion, I carefully lowered the zipper on the side of my skirt. Holding the fabric together, I met his eyes. His long dark lashes lowered as his gaze narrowed in on my hands, anxiously waiting for me to drop the sleek skirt.
If I was going to strip, he was going to have to work for it. “Look at me,” I ordered.
His gaze didn’t waver, but after a long moment he glanced up. Raising one eyebrow, he pierced me with that look of dominance he embodied so perfectly. “What’s the point in stripping if you don’t want me to watch?”
My lips curled into a small smile. “I wanted to see that steely control you’ve got going on. It’s…” I swallowed. “Hotter than you can imagine.”
“Babe.” He focused on my hands once more. “I’ve got plenty of control. What I don’t have is patience.” His hand clenched at his side. “Now, let’s see that black lace.”
His voice was firm, but also full of quiet seduction. The will to continue the power struggle fled. My hands relaxed and my soft white skirt fell silently to the floor.
Vaughn’s dark eyes flashed with molten fire. Then he held his hand out to me. I took it and stepped out of the circle my skirt formed at my feet.
“Gorgeous,” he said, and slipped one finger under the edge of my panties, teasing the sensitive flesh on my hip.
I was certain he was going to yank them down right there in his entryway. The hungry expression on his face said he wanted to. Instead, he pressed the other hand to my hip and glided it slowly up my side, bringing my silk shirt with it.
“So soft,” he murmured and leaned in, trailing kisses over my bare shoulder until he reached my neck. A shiver tore through me at his light, spine-tingling touch. My body was alive with fire. I wanted him everywhere all at once. Instead, his gentle fingers were driving me insane. But I didn’t dare demand more. Oh no. This was a delicious torture that I’d never experienced before. I’d stand there and let him explore my skin all night if he wanted to.
His other hand abandoned my hip and glided up my stomach until he was cupping my breast.
I sucked in a breath, wanting his mouth on mine. But he bit down on my neck, sending a ripple of pleasure-filled pain right to my center. I swayed and arched into his mouth.
“Yes,” he breathed and lightly pinched my nipple through the fabric of my bra with his thumb and index finger.
Oh, Goddess. For a sex witch, I was ridiculously inexperienced in foreplay. Especially foreplay by a man who knew what he was doing. He squeezed my nipple tighter. I gasped as I tugged on his tight black T-shirt and splayed my hands over his rippled stomach. His muscles quivered beneath my touch as he once again bit down on my neck, hard, while his glorious fingers teased my other nipple relentlessly.
Intense fire shot from his bite, heating my insides to almost unbearable levels, making me claw at his chest, digging my nails into his rock hard pecs.
He hissed. “Fuck, Matisse.” Then he caught my mouth in his and thrust his tongue over mine as he pulled my top up, lifting my arms as he went. We broke apart just long enough for the shirt to be freed.
Once it was gone, I pressed up on my tiptoes and clasped my hands against his face, meeting his lips in a slow, drawn-out kiss that was full of possession. I wanted to brand him. Mark him with my magic. Make him mine in every way possible. I could do it. It was a power I possessed. But that would make him no better than a sex slave, doomed to be at my beck and call for eternity. The spell was not looked upon kindly by any of the modern covens. Still, the desire to d
o it was there. Strong and pulsing beneath my breastbone.
The thought scared me. What an awful thing to do to someone. It was bad enough my witch pheromones could attract just about anyone I wanted. But to bind someone to me? It was unthinkable.
I pulled back, standing before him in the black lace I’d promised.
“What’s wrong?” His gaze never slipped from mine. I admired him for it. If he’d been almost naked in front of me, I doubted I’d have had the control to not ogle him in appreciation. “Too much, too fast?”
I shook my head and wanted to laugh. If he only knew. Usually I was straddling my partner by now, well on my way to climax. “No. I just…” I took a good look at his flushed face and the hard outline of his arousal through his tight jeans. “Just wanted to savor the moment for a second.”
His lips twitched and he crooked one finger at me. “Come.”
I grinned. “I’m sure I will, just as soon as you’re ready to take me there.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Get your ass over here.”
One step. Two. A few more and I stood before him, my hands resting lightly on his waist. “This needs to go.” I tugged at his T-shirt. “I want to see what’s under here.”
Without a word, he raised his arms over his head.
I willed myself to not tear the shirt off and inched it up, letting my fingers graze his ribs. When the fabric bunched at his neck, he reached down and tugged it off over his head. He stood there, waiting for me to make the next move. “Tell me what you want,” I said.
The storm was back in his eyes, and I suddenly had an image of me on all fours as he slammed into me from behind. My mouth went dry as another part of me instantly became wet. I was going to climb right out of my skin if he didn’t touch me soon.
“Take your bra off,” he said.
My fingers trembled as I reached behind my back and undid the hooks. The fabric sprang forward as I hunched my shoulders, letting the bra slip to the floor.
