by ERIN BEDFORD
“Yeah,” Paul chuckled.
“Yeah,” I repeated back, swaying from side to side. “Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.”
“Yeah, me too.” Paul rubbed the back of his neck and grinned at me. “Do you think we could try again?”
My face heated, and a hot desire began to settle low between my thighs. I very much wanted to try again. “Sure, I’d like that.” I then remembered why I was there in the first place. “If I can pass my Potions class anyway. You don’t happen to have Guardian Light Express in there do you?” I glanced down at his cart, searching for the book I needed.
Paul chuckled, a sparkle in his eyes as he pointed at me. Confused, my eyes dipped down to the book in my hand. Laughing, I held the very book I needed up. “Well, look at that. Wishes do come true.”
Chapter 20
“You want to slowly add the fairy dust to the boiling liquid,” Paul instructed me, standing over my shoulder in the potion’s lab. “Not too fast,” he reminded me before I can even get the bottle over the cauldron.
Lowering my arm, I glared at him. “No one likes a backseat driver. Stop micromanaging me. I have to do this myself.”
Paul gave me a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t seem to help myself. Potions is my major after all.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said flatly. I turned back to the potion and slowly poured in the fairy dust, something I didn’t know existed until recently.
The recipe for the Guardian Light potion included one cup of witch hazel – insert eye roll here - a pinch of sea salt, three white angel trumpets, plucked not minced, all mixed together and brought to a boil. Once boiled, it was time for the final ingredient, a bag of fairy dust. I was skeptical about the bag of fairy dust part. It didn’t really sound like any kind of measurement to me, but apparently, they have little bags of dust about two inches tall that they get from the fairies, something that still blows my mind.
Not as much as this potion though. It had been so far so good up until this point with Paul hovering like a mother hen behind me.
If I poured the fairy dust in too fast, then the potion would foam and turn a sludge-like consistency. Too slow and it would boil over, turning a mustard yellow. Right now, it was a nice yellow-white, exactly how it should be.
Holding my breath, I poured the fairy dust one grain at a time into the potion. The liquid began to glimmer and sparkle, a sweet flowery smell coming from it. When I dumped out the last grain, I let out the breath I was holding.
“There,” I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and smiled up at Paul. “Now, just to let it simmer for two hours, then bottle it up and turn it in.”
Paul lifted a brow. “You’re not going to activate it?”
I shook my head, pulling my phone out to set a timer. “No, Professor Bromwick wants me to do it in front of her so she can be sure I did it right. Also, if it didn’t, I probably will need a Potions Master to help me. I’ve read some weird accounts of potions gone wrong. I don’t want to end up with an extra arm or something.”
Chuckling, Paul wrapped his arms around my waist bringing me to his chest. “Good idea.” Humming slightly, he pressed his forehead against mine. “So, two hours?”
“Right.”
“What could we do during that time?” The hungry look in his eyes caused a warmth to spread down low. I barely had a chance to nod before his mouth was on mine.
Our tongues tangled together, and I slid my hands into his hair, tugging him close to me. Paul’s hands moved down to my butt, cupping me against his hard front. I groaned into his mouth, feeling his need pressed against my stomach. Paul backed us up until my back hit the table opposite of my potion.
Lifting me up, Paul sat me on top of the table. My legs spread so open that he could step between them. Fingers played underneath the edge of my top, inching up as if afraid I would stop them. Pulling away from his mouth, I jerked my shirt over my head, dropping in on the ground next to us, followed by my bra.
Paul’s gaze devoured my front, making me ache even more for him. Instead of touching me though, he moved away from me and toward the door. Frowning, I started to ask him where he was going, but he simply locked the door and turned on me with hooded eyes.
“Now, where were we?” he growled, his voice heavy with desire.
Before I could blink, he was back in front of me, his mouth trailing down my neck and then down to my breasts where he cupped them in his hands, bringing them up to his mouth. Either he grew more hands or was using magic because my pants unsnapped on their own. I lifted my hips, and this time, Paul released my breast and pulled my pants and panties down together, barring me to the lab.
Nervous but excited, I spread my legs for him but then snapped them shut again. Paul gave me a curious look, and I grinned. “Your turn. I want to see some skin.”
Chuckling darkly, Paul pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his delicious muscles to my hungry gaze. Next came his pants and boxer briefs. His length bobbed before me as if he were saying hello.
Licking my lips, I reached for him, but Paul moved away from my touch. I frowned at him, but he only smirked.
“Patience, little witch.” Reaching into his pants he had discarded on the ground, he pulled out a foil package. “I learn from my mistakes.”
Giggling, I took the condom from him. “Actually, we don’t need it.”
“We don’t?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “After our fight, I asked Trina about that potion. I figured that if I’m dating four guys, I probably should have gotten on it before. Thankfully, it isn’t like human contraception and works right away.”
Paul came at me like a starving lion, and I was the gazelle. He climbed onto the table, causing me to lay back on the top.
“Cold!” I cried out, pushing him back off me. “So cold.”
Frowning, Paul stroked his jaw before snapping his fingers. The cold lab table beneath me lowered and stretched out to both sides until it was the size of a full-size bed. The hard-cold grey top sank beneath me, turning into a soft mattress.
“That’s better.” Paul nodded and then crawled onto the bed, urging me further up onto it. Recapturing my mouth with his, he made short work of getting me worked back into a frenzy. His fingers played me a fiddle, and I was more than ready to take him as he plunged into me.
“Oh,” I gasped, bucking my hips up to meet his thrusts. “Oh, god.”
Paul grunted, his hand reaching between us to stroke me, causing my insides to clench tightly and my eyes to roll back into my head. I cried out as my orgasm caught me by surprise. Paul continued to thrust into me, and I found myself building up to that edge once more.
This time when I came, the whole room shook as stars burst behind my eyes. Paul stiffened against me, a low groan coming from him as he reached his climax.
He didn’t move right away but rested his forehead against mine as we caught our breath. “So, was it better or worse?”
“Huh?” I blinked up at him.
Leaning back onto his arms, Paul stared down at me. “You said you’d only done it once before. So ...”
I grinned, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Better. Definitely better.”
Paul beamed with male satisfaction, and I felt him stiffen inside of me once more.
“Again?” I gaped and then moaned as he began to move. “I don’t know if I can again.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Paul pressed his lips to mine, his movements quickening. He wasn’t as gentle this time around, and I found myself hitting that peak way quicker than I expected, crying out for more.
I didn’t know how many times we did it before we finally collapsed onto the table made bed, exhausted but satisfied. We laid together, basking in each other’s bodies until a shrill beeping caused us both to jump up.
Realizing what it was, I moved off the bed to put my clothes on. “Potion’s ready!”
Chapter 21
I tried to make the mee
ting with my grandmother at a neutral place, like a restaurant or café. Somewhere there were plenty of people, and my chances of escape were high. However, she insisted I come to their house and have dinner.
If I had thought the Broomsteins’ house was big, this was nothing compared to that. The Palace was close but not quite. It had been just a tall building, most of it made for the actual restaurant. Mancaster Estate, on the other hand, was exactly that: an estate.
You couldn’t see much of the house from outside the gates, but I could tell it filled a large portion of the grounds. I was sure there was more to it than just what I saw from the front. Maybe our family even had their own personal graveyard.
I didn’t have a car of my own, but I didn’t tell my grandmother. I knew she’d want to send a car for me and I couldn’t have that. I was trying to make people like me for me, not my family name. Having a personal driver show up at the school would only contradict that effort.
The taxi I had hired pulled up to the wrought iron gates. There was no voice box to buzz me in. However, after sitting there for a moment, the gates opened on their own. The taxi pulled into the large u-shaped driveway, and I could feel the magic slip over me as we entered. It wasn’t the same as the privacy barrier Paul had at his house or like the silencing spell. It was something completely different. I’d have to ask my grandparents about it.
Before I could exit the taxi, an older butler type came rushing out of the house, opening the door for me and offering me a handout. I took it reluctantly and paid for the taxi. The driver bolted out of the driveway like hell itself was on his heels.
“My name is Oscar,” the butler told me, leading me into the house.
“I’m Max,” I told him, half distracted by the inside of the house. Inside the ceilings were high and open. It made the inside look even more humungous than they already did. A chandelier filled the entryway and stairs rose up on either side of the room to the next level.
“Yes, you are expected. Master and Mistress Mancaster are waiting for you in the sitting room,” Oscar stated so matter-of-factly that some might have considered it rude. I just saw it as boredom. He obviously loved his job.
Oscar led me to the left into a large room with a fireplace and couches spread out tastefully. My grandfather sat in an armchair, reading from a newspaper that’s words changed every few minutes. Grandmother wasn’t in the room yet, but I was sure she’d come running when she found out I was here.
“Master Mancaster, your granddaughter has arrived,” Oscar announced with a sort of bow. Wow, they weren’t kidding about the royalty thing.
I inched around Oscar with an awkward look at his half-bowed form and took a seat on the couch across from my grandfather.
Taking his glasses off, grandfather waved Oscar off. “Max, it’s so good to see you. I was afraid you might not come.”
“Well, I couldn’t say no,” I gritted through my teeth. I understood now how my mom had such a hard time getting away from my grandmother. That woman could have been a lawyer in a past life.
Chuckling, my grandfather nodded. “Yes, your grandmother does have a way of getting what she wants. In any case, I am happy to have you here, no matter the circumstances.”
I relaxed slightly. While my grandmother might be pricklier than a cactus at times, my grandfather knew exactly how to put someone at ease. “I’m happy to see you too.” I glanced around the sitting room. “Your house is so ... big.”
Laughing once more, he leaned forward folding the moving paper in his lap. “Well, at one time, we had enough people living here to need all this space. However, now it is just your grandmother and me.” His eyes twinkled as he added, “Perhaps one day you’ll live here and make use of the many empty rooms.”
I gave a noncommittal sound and then straightened as my grandmother came into the room. I never thought I would be happy to see her.
“Maxine,” she greeted with open arms. I stood and let her hug me, awkwardly patting me on the back. “It’s so good to see you. I hope you found the place alright?”
“Yes, the taxi driver knew exactly where it was.”
“Taxi!?” My grandmother placed her hand on her chest her eyes wide. “Why on earth did you take one of those wretched things?”
“Well, I don’t have a car ...”
My grandfather shifted in his seat toward me. “Max, we have a driver. They could have picked you up, no trouble at all.”
“I know but ...” I tried to think of an unoffensive excuse, but my grandmother cut in.
“Next time, we’ll send a car for you ... or would you like your own vehicle?” She raised a brow and then turned to my grandfather. “Henry, maybe the blue one. The one that looks like a bug.”
“I’m fine,” I protested. “Really.”
“Nonsense.” Grandfather grinned, casting aside my response. “You’re our granddaughter, it’s only right we spoil you. Please take the car.” He reached up in the air, and a pair of keys appeared out of nowhere. I stared at them as he held them out to me. “Here, no strings. I promise.”
I glanced between them and my grandmother who watched with an expectant look. Geez. Put a girl on the spot. However, if I didn’t take the car, it would set a precedent for the whole dinner. I was already swimming in tension, I wasn’t sure I could handle any more.
“Fine.” I sighed and took the keys from him. “Thank you.”
“Well, now that’s settled, dinner should be about ready. Let’s adjourn to the dining room.” Grandmother clasped her hands together before gesturing toward the doorway she had come through.
I stood and followed them into the dining room. Grandfather took a seat at the head of the table with grandmother at his right hand. Another place was set up on his left, so I sat there. I stared down at the long table and smiled to myself.
“What’s that smile for?” my grandmother asked, catching me in the act.
My grin dropped, and I cast my eyes down on my plate. “Oh, nothing. Just ... your dining room reminds me of The Palace.”
“Oh, you’ve been?” My grandfather picked up his water glass, sipping from it.
Before I could answer, my grandmother sniffed. “Of course, she has. She was on the front of Witch’s Weekly the week of Valentine’s.”
I blushed. The guys had mentioned something about it, but I didn’t think it was true. No one at school had said anything, so I figured they had been exaggerating. Apparently not.
“Ah, yes,” my grandfather mused. “I remember now. You went out with the Broomstein brothers. Lovely young gentlemen.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I like them a lot.”
“And are you still seeing those other boys?” my grandmother asked, a hint of tension in her voice. At least she was trying.
I sighed. “Yes, I am.”
Grandfather chuckled, startling me. “Good. It’s good for a young girl your age to keep her options open. You’re a Mancaster. Don’t ever settle for less than you deserve.”
I didn’t bother correcting him on either account. It would just cause trouble, and I wanted to get out of here with my ears attached to my head.
“Well, I hope you are focusing on your studies as well.” My grandmother unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap, not meeting my gaze.
“Yes, of course.” I nodded. “I actually just finished my Potions assignment for the semester. I had to make a Guardian Light.”
“Really?” My grandfather shifted forward in his seat. “I heard those are rather difficult. I’ve never had to do one myself, but they can be quite useful.”
“It was. However, I haven’t activated it yet.”
“Why ever not?”
“Professor Bromwick wants to evaluate it beforehand. We’ll activate it on the last day of school.” I smiled slightly. “Less likely to have some kind of accident.”
“Sounds reasonable.” My grandmother folded her hands in front of her. “Now, about the booth for the Spring Fair. What are you going to make it out of?”
/> Wiggling in my seat, I frowned. “I guess wood. I mean, that’s what most are made out of, right?”
“Very well.” A pen and paper appeared out of nowhere and started to jot down notes for my grandmother. “Are you planning on decorating this booth?”
“Well, yeah. My topic is pretty controversial, so I figured a nice calming color would help make people more accepting toward it. Come at it in a passive kind of way, rather than shoving it down their throats.”
Nodding her head, my grandmother started to speak but then stopped as a young redheaded woman came in and announced dinner was ready. The plate in front of me filled up with a roast that smelled so good that my stomach rumbled fiercely.
“Looks wonderful, Anita. Thank you,” my grandfather grinned at the young woman. “Well, let’s dig in as they say.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. The meat didn’t even need to be cut, it just fell off onto my fork. I popped it into my mouth and held back a moan. So good. The potatoes and carrots weren’t half bad either, each one filled with succulent juice and just soft enough.
“Besides, the wood – you can use a spell for the paint – how about pamphlets? Posters? Maybe even some kind of sign pointing at your booth?” My grandmother named things off in between bites.
“Pamphlets and poster are good, but not so much the sign. I mean, I’m going for subtle, not ‘look at me, look at me.’ Don’t you think the sign would contradict the feeling we’re going for?”
“I agree,” my grandfather said, taking a drink to swallow the food in his mouth. “The subtle approach is best for these kinds of things. Too many elitists are too stuck in their ways. The only way you are going to get them to listen to something like this is to slide it right under their nose with the promise of it being good for them.”
“It is though,” I insisted. “I mean, some might argue that we keep all human-raised kids out of our schools and eliminate the problem altogether, but then you have witches and wizards with no idea how to control their powers and causing all kinds of havoc. But, with my plan, we can catch them up and lessen the likelihood they would become a burden on society. No one wants to spend all day every day cleaning up uneducated kids’ messes.”
