by BA Tortuga
“Wild girl.” He growled the word against her lips.
“Am not.” She bit him. Right there on his lower lip.
“Fuck, I want to know everything about you.”
Her hands slid down his arms, her eyes trailing over his tattoos of the seal of Saint Mark. “Lions.”
He nodded. “They’re protection. Winged lions.”
“My lion. Mikey said…” Her words trailed off and her brows lowered, her hand landing on his butt, just hard enough to sting. Marc jumped, his cock sliding against her lower belly, then slipping down to brush her curls.
“We need… Do you have a condom?” She twisted underneath him, restless.
Fuck. He didn’t have one, and now that she’d asked he had to be a good boy. Right? “No. Damn it.”
“Oh…” She groaned, her slick folds sliding on his thigh. “We can’t. No babies.”
“No…” He was gonna blow any moment. Still, he wasn’t going to leave her hanging.
He reached down, thumb rubbing over her clit, nudging it firmly. No way was he losing it before this little firecracker. No fucking way. She shrieked, her nails digging into his back, her breasts pushing up. Her cheeks flushed dark rose, her thighs clamping down on his hand. Oh, yeah. That was more like it.
“Come on. Let me see it.”
She was soaking wet, her cunt hot as fire as she shook with her orgasm. She was so damned powerful that he thought maybe the entire room was shaking with it, with her power. Marc gritted his teeth, waiting her out. When she sighed a little and flopped back on the bed, Marc finally let loose, coming across her belly and thighs. He’d never had an orgasm that rocked him like this one did.
His sight was filled with sparkles, his heart pounding in his chest.
They lay there together until their breathing went back to normal, and Marc had to admit he was afraid to speak. He didn’t want to set her off.
Finally he slid off her. “Let me get you a towel, hmm?”
He headed to the bathroom, running the hot water so he could help her get cleaned up, cleaned off. He heard her phone ring before the water even heated up. Soft words happened, then she made a happy sound.
He brought the washrag out as she was tugging on her bra. “She’s awake! Granny. She woke up. I’m going to the hospital. She’s awake and talking!” Her eyes shone with happiness, and she bounced, which made all sorts of things do a little jiggly dance.
“Oh, honey, fantastic,” Marc said, and hugged her gently with one arm.
Well, then. Maybe Grandpere had been wrong, maybe he hadn’t needed to come here after all. He hoped so, for everyone’s sake but his. He liked her, infuriating and all.
“Thank you.” She gave him a tentative look, and he touched her lips, feeling their softness, trying to convince himself that this wasn’t the last time he’d get to taste them.
“You’re welcome, honey. If you need me, I’ll hang out a few days. You stay out of that shop, now, you hear me?”
He hoped she wasn’t as addictive as she appeared.
Even more than that, Marc hoped she’d keep her promise not to go back into that shop without him. She was special, whether he liked it or not. Magickal. He was just going to have to suck it up and protect her until he figured out what she’d unleashed.
Chapter Seven
“God, Sara May, I’m the biggest slut on Earth.” She stood outside the shop, coffee in one hand, keys in the other. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but I just… God…”
She’d let that aggravating son of a bitch get her naked! Let him lick her, love up on her, and…damn it. It had stressed her out so bad, and she hadn’t even gotten to process it, with spending the night at the hospital, watching the doctors trail in and out of Granny’s room.
Sara May cackled. “So, what? You have stress. It’s stress relief. No worries. Take control of your sexuality and shit.”
Lily arched an eyebrow. “Are they making you a Californian?”
“Nah, my roommate lent me this book all about being a slut while not feeling like one.”
She giggled softly, relieved. She needed Sara May to be just that—Sara May. “Does it work?”
“Shit, you let me know. Remember, no embarrassment. It was nothing. Just stress relief. Now, go make tons of money and…Were you serious when you said there was a ghost?”
“Yes. No. Maybe, hell, I don’t know, hon…I gotta go.” She frowned; someone was in the store, in the back, messing with shit. No one should be in the store; everything was still locked up. She hung up her phone, put the coffee down, grabbed the taser out of her work bag, and unlocked the door. “Whoever you are, you best get your ass out my place!”
A heavy plate with reindeer heads on it flew off the shelf just in front of her and grazed her ear when it went by. It smashed on the sidewalk outside.
“Bastard!” She was not going to be driven out of her own goddamned store—at least not by anyone but her Granny. “I’ll taser your ass!”
Except she couldn’t really see who or what it was. Marc hadn't been shitting her. There was a fucking ghost here, breaking things, destroying things. She'd honestly thought all that was…She believed in psychic ability, sure, but…
She ducked through the aisles to the back room, just to make sure, but there was no one there, either. The adding machine on the little worktable moved, though, rising up in the air and then… exploding.
Pure rage hit her, deep in the belly. “You leave me alone!”
“Fuck a damned duck, woman! You said you’d stay outside.” A hard hand clamped around her arm, and someone dragged her out the back door of the shop. Tall. Red-headed. Marc.
“There’s someone in there! That’s Granny’s whole life! Her cat’s in there!” She spun around and decked Marc, right in the jaw. “I’ll be damned if I let anyone fuck this up more than it already is!”
He staggered back a little, but she thought it was more surprise than pain. “If you would just fucking listen to me, we can fix this!” He took two steps forward, grabbing her arms. He shook her a little, making her body whip back and forth.
“Stop it!” Her cup of coffee exploded, spraying over the window.
Marc let her go, stepping back. He took a deep breath. “Sorry. This isn’t helping. It’s just feeding the poltergeist.”
“There was someone in there. In the back.” She was going to lose it, just have a total meltdown, right here.
“There was a ghost.” He grimaced, wiping coffee off his cheeks. “I know you don’t believe me, but that’s what it is.”
"I do believe you. I just…fuck." She groaned, holding herself tight around the middle. God, her head hurt.
“Did you get the jars? The herbs?”
“You didn’t tell me which herbs. I have some jars I made. I think they’ll work. I couldn’t shop.” She pursed her lips. “You know, because I spent the night at the hospital?”
“Oh.” His cheeks heated a little, and he had the good grace to mumble, “Sorry. We got a little distracted. How’s she doing? Better?”
“Yeah, I think so.” She took a deep breath. “I am not standing out here while people start coming to open up their stores.”
“Okay. So we lock up the shop and go get those herbs. I’ll need them.” He grinned a little, so attractive all of a sudden that she blinked. He was wearing a wife-beater, thanks to the humidity that made it feel like you were breathing through a swimming pool, and Lily could see his ink again. His lions. “I’ll get you another coffee, too.”
My lion.
“I need one.” Asshole. Smiling at her, making her want to smile back. She reached for the door to lock it, and the handle to the old door felt cold. Lily shivered, closing the door and locking it.
“Come on. We need to get the front, too.”
“How do I know it’s not you? Being the ghost? Every time something explodes or breaks, you show up.”
“Was I there when your granny got sick? You don’t want to trust me, fine,
but I have a goddamned ghost, too, and he won’t leave me alone until I help you.” He marched her up to the front of the store, waiting for her to lock up.
“Help me what? I don’t know what to do, damn it. You keep talking, but you’re not saying anything and…” The window beside her began to shake, the keys in her hand rattling. “…and I can’t even get to Granny’s book where the protection spells are.”
“Lily, stop. This is bigger than a white candle and a piece of obsidian.” He took her keys, his hand closing over hers. He tugged her up against her chest, cutting off anything else she might say with a kiss.
Lily took a deep breath, the panic and anger building in her chest suddenly going still. It was crazy, but when he touched her like this, everything else went away.
“There. Good girl. That’s right.” She could hear him talking, the voice easy, soothing. He put an arm around her shoulders, and she heard the keys jingling. Then they were walking to his truck. “I promise not to go off and leave you.”
“I really need a cup of coffee, I think.”
“Then we’ll do that first.” He handed her up into the big truck. They were on the road with the radio playing before he spoke again. “Where should I go for that coffee?”
“Rolling in Thyme and Dough?” She could kill for a cinnamon roll. “It’s just a couple of blocks down.”
“Okay.” He seemed so calm. She kind of wanted to hit him with a shoe. He drove over, even though they could have walked. The farther they got from the shop, the more relaxed she was. Stupid.
“Here?” He pulled into one of the spaces in front of the coffee shop. “Smells good.”
“Yes. Best cinnamon rolls in town.” She looked at him. “I’m sorry. I’m not a psycho. I’m not.”
“You’re under a lot of stress.” His green eyes met hers, perfectly serious. “I’m not a stalker or an axe murderer.”
“That’s good. I’m really not the dealing-with-axe-murderers type.” She just wanted to work—make the shop functional, make her pottery, simple stuff.
“Yeah.” He hopped out of the truck. “Cinnamon rolls, ho.”
“Who you calling a ho?” she whispered the joke, just like Sara May was here.
“Huh?” He opened the door for her, holding out a hand.
“Just an old joke.” She put her hand in his, a rush of arousal surprising her enough that she pulled back. “Stop that!”
“Stop what?” He frowned, staring at her hand.
“That. Whatever that is. Stop it.” It was like a drug or a spell or something.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned and left her standing there, going into the coffee shop. His shoulders were a straight, hard line, all male outrage.
Everything this man did involved walking away from her somehow. It couldn’t be healthy. He made her…
It wasn't even crazy. He made her feel like she couldn't breathe, almost, like he knew something about her she didn't know about herself.
She turned around and headed for her car. She needed to talk to her mom.
* * * *
Marc stared at her for a few moments, watching her ass swing while she walked away. He’d opened the door and turned to look at her, only to find her marching off.
The urge to fling a little fire spell at her butt was strong. Instead, he turned, putting his boots down hard to catch up with her. “Where the hell are you going?”
“Away from you. You’re an infuriating fuck, and I’m done dealing with your mean ass.”
“Me?” He growled at her a little, the sound surprising him. “I have been the soul of fucking patience. You need to control yourself and stop accusing me of doing awful things to you.”
“You come here, scream at me, dump me at a restaurant. I’m trying to do what I’m supposed to!” Her nipples were hard as rocks, and her breasts heaved with her breath.
Marc wanted to throw her in the back of his truck and fuck her senseless. He was reaching for her when he remembered they were in the street.
“You just… Argh!”
Fuck. Fuck, she made his mouth dry. She kept walking, stomping hard, and from this close he could see how exhausted she was.
“Wait.” He was always grabbing her. His lady friends usually ended up begging for him to touch them while they were tied to the bed, not shunning his touch. This was an odd set of circumstances… “Come have a coffee with me.”
“Why? So you can tell me how bad I suck, because I’ve heard it—from you, from Granny. I know. I suck, okay? As soon as Granny’s better I’ll give notice at the shop and get a job somewhere else…”
“Stop it.” He cut her off with the short, sharp words. “You’re one of the strongest witches I’ve ever met. You just don’t seem to know it.”
“That’s Granny’s shtick. Maybe Mike’s, not mine.”
Marc stopped. Counted to ten. In Greek. “Would you please come sit with me and have a coffee and listen a little?”
Her lips twisted. “Okay, but you have to be decent. I’m fixin’ to lose my shit.”
“I’m trying. You’re infuriating.” Exhilarating, too, but he’d never tell her that.
And you’re a big, hairy turd with a scar and lots of tattoos.
He busted out laughing, loving that brashness, that wicked, quick sense of humor.
“Well, there you go.” He motioned for her to go ahead, and she trudged back to the coffee shop, mouth set in a thin line. He wanted to tan her butt for the turd comment, but hated that buzz of hurt, the thought that he was laughing at her.
She ordered a froufy coffee with whip and fluff and foam. He got a drip coffee and three breakfast tacos, a chocolate croissant, two apple fritters, and the one big cinnamon roll in the case. That was all the sweet he needed and good thing, because he wasn’t getting it from her.
Lily sat, legs curled up underneath her, eyelashes casting dark shadows on her cheeks. She looked so tired he was afraid she was going to fall asleep.
“So, you didn’t want a cinnamon roll after all, honey?”
“There was only the one left.”
Oh. He could have accused of her being a martyr, but he had a feeling she was really above something that petty. She was being nice. Now he felt a little like a heel. Especially given all she'd been through. Her poor brain synapses had to be screaming, add to that her granny, no sleep, a family friend murdered. Shit, he ought to be grateful she wasn't a sobbing dishrag that was running to her parents and begging them to deal with him. “We can split it, then, huh?”
“I’d love a bite, thank you.” She sipped her fancy coffee, and he shook his head. She went from hot to cold to hot like a pendulum.
“I don’t, normally. Normally I’m steady.”
Marc blinked. She’d heard him. Damn, that girl was strong. Was getting into his head, too. “Well, good for you. I think part of it has to do with the shop. It’s like a mini magical vortex.”
“Like on Buffy? Really? I mean, are you serious-serious?”
“Not quite that big, but it is a convergence. Maybe of some ley lines?” He really needed to do some research instead of flying off in all directions just to get rid of Ganrdpere Ben.
“Maybe that’s why we fell into bed like fuck-starved jackrabbits last night.” She blinked, then giggled softly, hand over her mouth. “Oh, damn. I said that out loud…I mentioned that I didn’t sleep last night, right?”
“You did. I’m sorry if I contributed to that.” He wasn’t sorry about the jackrabbits part, and he didn’t think magical convergences had anything to do with plain old, healthy lust, not to mention that they hadn't been at the shop. No one had to like anyone to be attracted to them.
“I just…I don’t, normally, especially with someone that doesn’t like me. It was weird.”
“It was hot as hell, honey. I don’t dislike you.” He wasn’t going to belabor the point. Marc cut the cinnamon roll in half when the food came, offering her the fork.
“Thank you.” She moaned
over the first bite, humming softly, and he sat there, staring.
Marc was sure the roll was a real treat, along with all the rest of it, but he couldn’t even make himself taste it. He could only watch Lily lick frosting off her lips, his cock hard as a rock.
“So what do we need to do?”
Shaking himself, Marc cleared his throat, and started eating. “First we'll buy some herbs, a big jar of salt, and possibly some lunch at the Whole Foods. Then we're going to go in, cast a quick and dirty circle, and trap that bitch in one of those jars you made. Bing, bang.” Well, with 'we' being 'him', because he wasn't going to let her get hurt anymore, damn it.
“Okay, whatever we have to do to make it safe for Granny to come back when she’s moving. I’ll do it.”
That was her most endearing quality to date, her loyalty to her granny. “Once we get the ghost taken care of, I want to look at that mirror.”
“Okay. I told you, it’s in the trash. It’s really broken. Granny was furious.” Lily teared up, ducked her head and hid behind her hair.
“Maybe we should get you a nap while I get the herbs.” He needed her calmer, more in control.
“I’m okay. I have to do my shift at the hospital, I have to check the mail, feed the cat. I’m supposed to be taking care of the business…” The little dessert plate spun in a slow circle.
“You can’t if you can’t stay awake.” He grabbed the plate, keeping it from spinning off the table. “I tell you what. I’ll take you to my hotel. I’ll go get your mail, the herbs, and deal with the kitty. When I get back, you can come help me clean up the shop.”
She blinked at him, slowly, and he nodded, sure of himself, finally. She needed rest and focus; he needed some supplies, this was a plan.
“Lily.” He reached out and took her hand, reinforcing his words with a little physical compulsion. “Finish your coffee, honey.”
“It’s good, hmm?” She drank the coffee, asleep on her feet, now.
“It’s fantastic.” He sucked down his food and his coffee, wanting to get her to the bed in his hotel, for sleep this time. Not that he would turn down another offer.
