Chick with a Charm

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Laying the flower beside him, he grabbed her wrist and pried her fingers from his dick. Then he captured her other wrist. Bracing her hands on either side of her head, he leaned down and captured her mouth.

  She tasted of wine and sex, and he could have gone on kissing her for a long time, but he had other activities on his agenda. He lifted his mouth a fraction away from hers. “I want to try something with that daisy. I can’t guarantee what shape it’ll be in afterward, though.”

  Her breath was warm on his lips as she answered him. “Go for it, big guy.”

  He took another condom from the stash on the bedside table and rolled it on. Then he picked up the daisy and broke off most, but not all, of the stem. Settling the corona of red petals on her dark triangle of curls, he tucked the remainder of the stem into her cleft. It rested gently against her clit but wasn’t long enough to reach her vagina.

  “That feels . . . interesting,” she murmured.

  It was a mental picture he would never forget, Lily decorated with a red gerbera daisy. Holding the daisy gently in place by pressing his forefinger against her clit, he propped himself above her with his other arm, giving thanks for all those workout sessions and one-armed push-ups. He entered her slowly, and the daisy quivered.

  Her voice was breathy. “Are you having fun?”

  “Uh-huh.” He began to stroke and watched the daisy petals dance in time with his movements. At times the stem would come in contact with his dick, like a light scratch of a fingernail. He used his finger to move the stem around a little, which brought whimpers of delight from Lily.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing down there, but it feels wonderful.”

  “I’m playing.” Had he ever played at sex before? Probably not. He was playing now, and that flower was really beginning to dance. He’d never look at gerbera daisies the same way again.

  As he quickened the pace, he felt her tighten around him. Good thing, because he wasn’t going to last much longer. Poised above her, able to watch that red daisy vibrate, had him right on the edge of his climax.

  He held on until she arched her back and cried out. As her climax rolled over his aching penis, he came in a rush, surging forward and crushing the flower in his frenzy to be deep inside her. To think he’d tried to avoid getting involved with Lily. What an idiot he’d been.

  Chapter 11

  The night had been perfect. The morning . . . not so much. Lily wasn’t used to getting up early, which to her meant eight o’clock. She’d set her alarm so that she’d have no trouble meeting Anica at the coffee shop at nine thirty for the airport run.

  Griffin was awake and whistling in the shower by seven fifteen. It wasn’t a recognizable tune, either—more of an aimless, wandering kind of whistle. Lily wondered how he’d enjoy having a gerbera daisy shoved in his pursed lips. The shower was one thing. Tunelessly whistling was a whole other thing, a noisy thing that she could do without.

  Pulling a pillow over her head, she tried to drown out the sound. When she’d envisioned Griffin under her spell, she hadn’t projected exactly how that would work out. The sex was a given, but staying all night and jumping in the shower and whistling at seven fifteen . . . she hadn’t figured on that at all.

  She tried to soothe herself by imagining how great he looked in that shower, how the water would stream off his pecs, cascade down his washboard abs, and sluice down his sizable penis. It was a good image, but it didn’t go with the tuneless whistling. Tuneless whistling made him seem less than sexy, even less than bright.

  Oh, she knew he was very smart or he wouldn’t be pulling down big bucks as a lawyer. But his clients who paid him all that money wouldn’t be impressed if they could hear him in the shower this morning. She could storm in there and ask him for the love of all that was holy to please stop, but that would be like kicking a puppy. He wouldn’t understand what he’d done wrong.

  Finally she gave up, left the bed and took her black robe out of the closet. She could make coffee, which would go a long way toward rescuing this morning. When she emerged from the bedroom, there was Daisy, overjoyed to see her.

  Lily rubbed the top of Daisy’s head. “One thing about you. You don’t whistle.”

  Daisy shoved her wet nose against Lily’s hand and gave a little moan of ecstasy that she could be with her human again.

  “Yeah, I’m crazy about you, too.” And she was crazy about Griffin. Everybody had irritating little habits. Lily acknowledged that she might have a few. So maybe whistling in the shower wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Opening the blinds, she discovered a sunny spring morning. The blue sky paired with her memory of an outstanding night made her inclined to forgive Griffin for whistling.

  She fed Daisy and gave her fresh water. As the coffee hissed and dripped into the pot, she drank a glass of orange juice and wondered whether she should throw on some sweats and take Daisy out now or wait until after her shower.

  About that time, Griffin walked into the kitchen, smelling like heaven. He looked pretty damned good, too, freshly shaved and wearing a crisp white shirt and slacks. She preferred the buns-hugging jeans he’d worn the night before, but he couldn’t very well wear jeans to work.

  Daisy leaped up from where she’d been lying near the breakfast nook table and bounded over to Griffin as if she hadn’t seen him in months. Griffin crouched down to give her a good head rub, and the picture of dog and man brought a smile to Lily’s face. Then she noticed how Griffin’s position stretched his slacks nicely over his sculpted ass, and that picture brought a smile to a part of her lower down. She decided he could whistle in the shower any damned time he wanted to.

  If only they had time for her to coax him out of those slacks and change his mind about going in to the office. That was the exact opposite of what she’d wanted the day before, and it was still an unworkable plan. So she waited for him to finish loving Daisy. When he stood, she smiled at him. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you, too.” His gaze swept over her, his expression telegraphing plainly that he wanted to know if she was wearing anything under her bathrobe.

  “Want some juice?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  She was so tempted to unfasten the sash and answer him that way, but then she glanced at the kitchen clock hanging on the wall behind him. “No, it’s a real question.”

  “Damn. I was hoping it was code for—”

  “I know. But we can’t.” She gestured toward him. “For one thing, you’re all spic-and-span.”

  He took a step closer. “Don’t let that stop you.”

  “For another thing, neither of us can be late, especially me. Coffee will be ready any minute.” Draining her orange juice glass, she set it in the sink. “And I need to take Daisy out.”

  He closed the short distance between them. “I’ll take her. But first I need a kiss.”

  As he pulled her into his arms, she had a feeling they shouldn’t risk getting this chummy. Sure enough, while his lips were busy plundering hers, his hand was busy untying her sash. She made a halfhearted attempt to stop him, but when he kissed her like that, her brain turned to mush and her body instinctively wanted to be naked.

  And, oh, how her body wanted his big hand on her breast, then wanted it roving lower until his fingers tunneled through her curls and discovered what kind of power his kiss had over her. If her cell phone sitting on the kitchen counter hadn’t started playing Anica’s tune, “Witchy Woman,” no telling what would have happened next. Correction: Lily knew exactly what would have happened next.

  But instead of having sex on the kitchen table with Griffin, Lily wiggled out of his arms and answered the phone.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were up,” Anica said. “I checked the flight and it’s on time.”

  “I’m up.” She looked over at Griffin.

  Me, too, he mouthed.

  Lily pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

  “I’m warning you.” Anica was in ful
l big-sister mode. “If you’re not here by nine thirty, I’m leaving without you. Use magic to get cleaned up if you have to. Just make sure Griffin’s out of there beforehand.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid, and I’ll be on time.” Lily rolled her eyes. “You always get like this when the ’rents come home.”

  “Get how?”

  “Frantic, bossy, anal . . . oh, wait, I forgot. You’re anal all the time.”

  “I am not. So how is Griffin, anyway?”

  Lily recognized that as a retaliatory dig. Anica was reminding her about the spell. “He’s good.” Lily was happy to have Anica take that as a double entendre. Griffin was very good in one particular way. “So how’s Jasper? Still the same cool cat?”

  “You know he’s fine. He’s permanently changed back, and unless you, Dorcas or Ambrose spill the beans, Mom and Dad never have to be the wiser.”

  “Like you said, big sis, blackmail’s a—” She suddenly remembered that Griffin was standing right there listening to every word. “A nasty business. Well, gotta go. Wouldn’t want to be late.” She flipped the phone closed. “I need to get going.”

  “I could tell, although I’m curious about that blackmail comment.”

  “Just an inside joke.”

  “Okay. You go get ready, and I’ll take Daisy out.”

  “Thanks, Griffin.” She wondered if he’d be this considerate if she hadn’t put a spell on him. She’d like to think so. “While you’re out, you’re welcome to make a copy of my key. That way you don’t always have to be borrowing mine.”

  He looked pleased about that. “Okay.”

  She headed toward the bedroom as he went into the living room to get Daisy’s leash. Daisy followed right at his heels, as if she understood that Griffin would be the one taking her out this morning. Lily wasn’t so sure she hadn’t understood. Many times she reacted as if she fully comprehended human speech.

  Griffin paused by the front door to clip on Daisy’s leash. “What do your parents do, anyway? I should probably know something about them before Sunday.”

  “They’re researching ancient herbal remedies in Peru.” Lily didn’t mention that they were on a sabbatical from teaching at the International Academy of Magic.

  “They’re scientists, then.”

  “Yes.”

  “They sound like interesting people.”

  “They are.” A little intimidating because they were so accomplished, but definitely not boring. Lily wondered if the day would ever come when she’d tell Griffin about their special powers . . . and hers.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine a good reaction to that news, so chances were she wouldn’t tell him. If she never told him, then he would never know one of the most important things about her. That didn’t make for a very complete relationship. As usual, Anica was right. Lily hadn’t thought this through very well.

  About two hundred and fifty miles south, in the small town of Big Knob, Indiana, Dorcas Lowell stood in the kitchen of her quaint Victorian, attempting to fry eggs the regular way, without magic. Her black cat, Sabrina, sat on the windowsill, tail twitching, as she studied Deep Lake, hoping for a sight of her beloved friend Dee-Dee, the lake monster who lived there.

  “I don’t think she’ll be out today, Sabrina,” Dorcas said. “Her baby twins weren’t feeling well yesterday. Her partner, Norton, might show up later, but I think Dee-Dee’s staying with the kids this morning.”

  Sabrina meowed forlornly. Since Dorcas and her husband, Ambrose, had transported a male lake monster to Deep Lake, Dee-Dee hadn’t had as much time for her friend Sabrina. In the old days Dee-Dee used to let Sabrina ride on her head as they sped around the lake on misty mornings when no human locals from Big Knob were around. Nobody in Big Knob suspected there was even one giant creature in the lake, let alone a family. Dorcas planned to keep it that way.

  The residents of Big Knob thought they lived in a conservative, if somewhat quirky, town. They didn’t question why the streets were laid out in the shape of a pentagram, or what caused the strange noises in the Whispering Forest. Dorcas and Ambrose had been assigned to manage the dragon who lived there. Thanks to them, George had given up most of his high jinks and had earned his golden scales so that he was a True Guardian of the Forest.

  Life in Big Knob was more peaceful these days than it had been when Dorcas and Ambrose had first arrived and the dragon George was out of control, playing poker with the raccoons and causing mischief. Dorcas would go so far as to say it had become boring. She needed something to challenge her.

  Ambrose strolled into the kitchen. “I smell eggs. Yum.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m determined to make them without magic.”

  Ambrose sighed. “Why put yourself through it?”

  “Because I watch nonmagical women cook without magic, and that makes me feel like I’m cheating.” She nudged the frying eggs with a spatula. Sure enough, they were sticking. “Ambrose, what are we going to do about Lily and Griffin?”

  “I don’t recall being asked to do anything.”

  And that was driving Dorcas crazy. When she’d checked with Anica and discovered Lily had, in fact, administered the elixir, she’d wanted to jump right in. “Lily needs our help,” she said, working to slide the spatula under one of the eggs. She liked them sunny-side up, but Ambrose insisted on over easy. That was the tricky part.

  “I think Griffin’s the one who needs the help,” Ambrose said. “But that’s out of our jurisdiction up there. We can’t help if no one asks us to.”

  “Maybe someone will ask us during the engagement party on Sunday.” Dorcas gave up on being tentative with the eggs. She shoved the spatula forcefully under the sticking egg, and yoke oozed out from the bottom and spread over the rest of the pan. “Hera’s hickeys! Why is this so hard?”

  “Because you’re not using magic.” Ambrose walked over to the stove, mumbled a Latin phrase and four perfect eggs appeared in the pan, two sunny-side up and two over easy.

  “I didn’t want to use magic!”

  Ambrose wrapped both arms around her waist and leaned down to place a kiss on her neck. “And I’d like to eat my breakfast. I need to get down to Click-or-Treat, update my MySpace page and see what’s happening on eBay with my scooter.”

  Dorcas leaned against him with a sigh of defeat. “Okay. But I hope you know that nobody’s going to pay the ridiculous price you’re asking for that scooter.” And how she wished they would. She hated that dorky red thing. A Harley would be cool. A red scooter just looked lame.

  “You never know.” He gave her a squeeze and released her. “Maybe I’ll talk it up at the engagement party. Somebody there might want it.”

  “Don’t you dare.” She dished up the eggs and set the plates on the kitchen table while Ambrose buttered the toast. “That party’s designed to celebrate Anica and Jasper, and for their parents to meet each other, and . . . for us to get a look at Griffin Taylor.”

  “You need to forget about Griffin Taylor.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Ambrose poured them each a mug of coffee from the pot on the counter. “I promise not to talk about selling my scooter if you promise not to find a way to offer unsolicited advice to either Lily or Griffin.”

  “All right.” Dorcas got out napkins and utensils. “But if someone asks, then it’s our magical duty to help.”

  Ambrose gave her a warning look. “They have to ask without prompting, Dorcas.”

  “I know.” But she was very adept at steering conversations. She intended to steer a few on Sunday.

  Lily and Anica stood at the end of the concourse, watching the stream of passengers for the familiar sight of their parents. They wouldn’t be hard to spot. Both were tall and slim, and they favored exotic, colorful outfits, often purchased in the country where they’d been working.

  “I’m glad you’re getting married.” Lily meant it, even if she was a little jealous. “For many reasons, of
course, but also because it means Mom and Dad are coming home for a few weeks. I’ve missed them.”

  “Me, too, but they love what they’re doing, and they can’t research ancient tribal remedies parked in their condo. I’d rather have them out there living an exciting life than see them hunkered down at home being couch potatoes.”

  “True. Oh, there they are!”

  “Are they ever,” Anica said. “Mom’s wearing a hat like a flying saucer, and Dad’s wearing a feathered headdress.”

  Lily took in the arresting headgear, made even more dramatic because her parents were five-nine and six-two, respectively. Lionel Revere wore a blousy turquoise shirt, loose pants, and sandals, along with a bronze pendant around his neck. Simone Revere was in a peasant blouse decorated with a red ribbon, plus a full skirt in bright blue with a band of elaborate embroidery around the hem. “I guess it’s good that Jasper didn’t come along.”

  “Yeah. Maybe we can tone them down before they meet him.”

  “Good luck with that.” Lily admired their style. Not everyone’s parents came off a plane sporting saucer headgear and feathered headbands.

  She and Anica hurried forward and were soon enveloped in laughter and welcoming hugs. Then they all headed for baggage claim.

  While they stood a little apart from the crowd waiting for the luggage, Simone stood back and beamed at her daughters. “You girls look fabulous. I know Anica’s in love, which explains that glow, but Lily, you’re sparkling, too. What’s up?”

  Leave it to her mother to zero in on a change in her. “Well, there is a guy. You’ll meet him on Sunday.”

  “Is he a wizard?” Lionel sounded hopeful.

  “No, Dad, sorry. He’s a lawyer.”

  Simone glanced from Anica to Lily. “Neither of you ever wanted to marry a wizard, did you?”

  Anica gazed at her sister. “I can’t speak for Lily, but I’ve always admired nonmagical men. No offense to you, Dad, but I’m impressed with what a nonmagical man can accomplish with sheer grit and force of will. Jasper can’t wave a magic wand and make things happen, and so when he does something for me, it’s special.”