Cursed by Chemistry

Home > Other > Cursed by Chemistry > Page 18
Cursed by Chemistry Page 18

by Kacey Mark


  Oh-kay. Maybe she wanted her stuff to stay in the trunk. Adrian opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it closed again.

  He didn’t want to hear her rejection. If he didn’t plead his case to keep her, she wouldn’t argue back. Though the suspense stirred his heart into an erratic rhythm, and his stomach soured with dread.

  She leaned into him. Her damp head settled on his collarbone.

  Adrian’s arms closed around her again. Was this a hug goodbye? Did she need more time to fight through her emotions?

  No hitching breaths erupted. The rise and fall of her chest remained even over several minutes. Adrian stroked up and down along the delicate ridge of her spine, soothing and waiting. Waiting and soothing. Why wouldn’t she speak?

  Both her palms, caught between them, flattened on his abdomen and began a slow upward stroke. Her breathing deepened.

  A muggy warmth blossomed from the terrycloth cape wrapped around her. Not hot, she wasn’t scared, just warm.

  Then it hit him.

  An undeniable scent of honeyed freesia carried on the air.

  Now he got it. Shauna wanted an entirely different cleansing. Something that would take her away from the heartache, if only for a moment.

  Only one problem.

  The tears had done him in.

  His deep thinker had amnesia. It had deflated with the first drop and wouldn’t be found again for hours.

  He stopped stroking her back. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” If she got any hint that he couldn’t get it up, she might blame herself. Given his history with other women, what other excuse was there? “You remember what I said…about tears?”

  Not even a pause. Shauna reached under the hem of his shirt. A rush of nerves jumped to awareness when her hands slid across his bare abs, and continued upward to his pecs.

  Maybe he could keep her busy some other way. He had plenty of other resources. But if he took her to the brink and she started begging for something she couldn’t have…again…

  Her hands slid back down toward his waistband, and he caught them just in time. “We need to stop.” That sounded like genuine’s fourth cousin, twenty times removed.

  Her words reverberated against his chest. “You owe me.” Not angry, resigned.

  Adrian couldn’t argue it.

  Nor did he want to!

  The shielding potion hadn’t been lifted yet, but with Shauna doing all the work—which she apparently intended to do—there wasn’t much threat of being burned.

  He shot a frustrated glare to the lazy bulge somewhere below his belt. He couldn’t see it with Shauna in the way, but maybe it was better not to look at the disaster about to unfold.

  She fisted his shirt and shoved it up, baring the lower half of his chest.

  His gaze flicked to the wall several feet away. The fan had dried at least some of her chemical cues, but not enough. He could speed the process if he could reach the damn switch.

  When her mouth closed over his flesh, his thought process reduced to a useless buzz. She cupped a hand over the bulge in his pants and began an inviting, up-and-downward stroke.

  The groan that escaped his lips caught somewhere between pleasure and frustration.

  Shauna still hadn’t looked up, but a sly grin curved her lips. She placed both hands on his hips and dropped to her knees.

  Dear God in heaven…

  His attention ripped to the spice cupboard. Honey, ginger, cinnamon…shit. If he could just get there and whip up a potent meal of aphrodisiacs…

  The slow grate of his zipper seemed to echo through the room.

  Underwear would have bought more time, but when he dressed this morning, he hadn’t expected the afternoon to turn out like this. He’d planned for quick, easy access.

  To be a willing participant, for Christ’s sake.

  With slender fingers, she coaxed out the limp appendage, its half-interested growth thickened mostly around the base. In all its wrinkled humility, the damn thing begged to be nursed back to health as it lounged along the entire length of her hands.

  The pink edge of her tongue swiped across her lower lip.

  No, not a gesture of nervousness. Her focus told him something else entirely. Her mouth dropped open, and her breaths came and went in a heady pant as she drew closer.

  A simple hand job seemed appropriate for a first-timer. But Shauna clearly had other plans. Her mouth widened a bit, and she caressed the mushroomed ridge of his cock with her full lower lip.

  She pulled away for a moment adjusting her stance, and Adrian swallowed the eager moisture that flooded his mouth. He embraced the growing tension in his chest and urged his body to beg for more. Her tongue flicked and swirled around his erection with growing enthusiasm. Then her motions softened and she pulled away again.

  “Shauna—” His moan of torment came out louder than expected.

  “I don’t know what you call it.” Her head tipped to one side. Her tone hushed with wonder. “I mean, I’m not that naive, but shaft…erection…None of those fit.”

  Call it whatever you want, just don’t stop. He opened his mouth, but Shauna spoke faster.

  A small smile curved her lips a moment before she returned. Her gentle kiss started at his hilt and trailed an agonizing path towards the tip. “All I know is I want it. All of it.” Her mouth grew moist and fervent with every inch.

  His cock grew heavy. A glistening bead of pre-cum greeted her by the time she reached the tip. When she took him into the heat of her sweet mouth, the growl of pleasure offered more than any word he could muster.

  His hand brushed over her damp hair in encouragement as she took him in completely and delivered on the up-and-down ministrations her hand had promised moments earlier.

  He slid his palm to the back of her head, and with gentle nudges, he coaxed her into his favorite rhythm. His head eased back with pleasure as Shauna continued, picking up speed and depth. The rush of arousal swelled his cock with a throbbing beat. One that fell in perfect rhythm every time he met the tight confines in the back of her throat. An all-too-familiar tingle swept through his body. He wouldn’t last much longer. He gripped her hair, urging her to slow.

  Shauna refused.

  “I won’t last—” His groan of half-hearted dismay was cut short by an uninvited female voice.

  “Chicken’s burning.”

  Adrian snapped to attention. “Damn it, Kimmy!”

  Shauna gasped. She sat—or rather fell—to her backside and wrapped the robe tight around her. Embarrassment already blazed in her cheeks.

  “You were supposed to be sleeping.” Adrian let the anger show in his voice. Part for Shauna, part for the stone-hard rod being wedged back into his pants.

  Kimmy snorted as she brushed behind him, heading for the sizzling pan. “Yeah, nice try. It’s called chemical desensitization. But you wouldn’t know anything about that.” She moved the pan from the heat and prodded it with a suspicious frown. “Is this lemon?”

  She looked over her shoulder when neither Adrian nor Shauna responded. “What?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Pale cords of tension stood out between Richard’s shoulder blades. “I don’t know yet. But if you don’t let me handle this, it won’t work at all.”

  O propped himself up with one elbow and scowled at the phone Richard had cradled to his ear. That damn agent again?

  Richard said he’d never been with a man before. Sounded plausible as far as his technique was concerned, but with as much time as those two spent together…

  “I told you. I’ll handle it,” Richard insisted, his voice elevating.

  Where had all this purpose and authority come from? O had been too sore to play the Dom, and it seemed a pleasant change to let someone else take control. But that was sex. And it was over.

  Richard used his free hand to shift his perch on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward as if to stand. The motion cut short. He flinched in pain. Apparently, thinking better of the idea, he dragged a nest of s
atin sheets around his naked waist.

  That’s right. The man had enough determination to get off, even through the pain of his injuries. But without the drive of his arousal, and a little chocolate incentive, the fair-haired angel couldn’t fly.

  Richard ended his call with an exasperated sniff. “He’s not giving me any more time.”

  “Quite frankly, neither am I.” O didn’t bother suppressing his irritation. The man served as a common link to the loss of his empire and the loss of Adrian. It’d be better for Richard’s health to remember where his motivation lay.

  That old saying about keeping your enemies closer? Maybe the bedroom had been a bit too close. But this tender angel needed a little incentive to remain on his tether.

  The act might temporarily blind O’s ability to foretell, but it also forged an alliance the man couldn’t break. Richard would probably give his left nut for the good graces of family and high society, but his first taste of the dirty underground wouldn’t be his last. He’d get hooked. They all did. If he wanted to feed his addiction, he better hand over Adrian’s toy.

  “You need to get rid of that agent.”

  Richard didn’t respond.

  “You can’t kill him,” O prodded. “His buddies will start asking questions.”

  “I don’t have the money to pay him off,” Richard muttered.

  “Pity. That would be the safer way.” O lay back and laced his fingers together behind his head. Truth was, Richard had the money, but he didn’t want to risk the funds being traced back to him.

  When a moment of silence stretched through the room, Richard glanced over his shoulder again, his crystal-blue eyes imploring.

  O grinned. “What? You want me to pay him off? Sorry, I’m not a charity. If you want the anonymity of Nightingale’s for yourself…” And of course, he did.

  “We could barter,” Richard suggested.

  O stifled a laugh and pretended to consult the neon-blue light waves that played across the ceiling. “What’d you have in mind?” With the number of law enforcement officers already tripping to do O’s bidding, what good was Richard, a piddley, political-official-to-be?

  “Favors,” Richard murmured.

  O arched a regal brow.

  “I’m offering you my services. As often as you’d like.” Richard sat straighter.

  Oh, a sex slave, is it?

  And who would win there? Not O. He expelled a deep sigh. Damn chocolate. Those Nympho Nibs were more trouble than they were worth.

  “I’ve only bartered with one man. I’m afraid you’re just not that good. You have a lot of learning to do in the art of pleasure.” He traced a fingertip down the smooth notches of Richard’s spine. “Not that I’m discarding you by any means.”

  Offering a freebie lesson from time to time might quell the looming boredom. His taste would remain pleasant for several months after the powder’s administration. It might take that long for the headstrong apothecary to come around to O’s way of thinking.

  O’s mouth flooded with moisture at the thought of the real thing, the real Adrian Sands, here, in his bed. No more fleeting illusions.

  He’d kept the last of Adrian’s vision powder for himself, but over time, the aftermath of one over-eager imposter after another only fueled his disappointment. O’s attention veered to Richard. Case in point, just look at that sour expression. Adrian didn’t look at him that way.

  Okay, maybe he did.

  But Richard should at least have the manners to play grateful after the gangly, noodle-fest O had been forced to endure.

  “The only way to be rid of Agent Squalinski is to give him what he wants. Shauna.”

  O paused. “Watch that feisty tone, young man. That’s not going to happen. You promised me both, and you’ll bring me both.”

  An urgent fizz consumed O’s stomach. He couldn’t risk losing the girl. Ensuring his good fortune meant driving a wedge between Adrian and his toy—permanently. It wasn’t easy driving a wedge between moving targets.

  Richard lowered his head, his expression unreadable. If O didn’t know any better, he’d say the angel was sulking. “The agent doesn’t want Shauna, silly boy,” O admonished. “He wants my apothecary like everyone else. Adrian’s little toy was given some interesting powers, for sure. But the feds are hunting for the main source.”

  “So Squalinski isn’t just my problem,” Richard countered under his breath.

  “Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself. He’s definitely your problem.”

  Richard may have earned a fair amount of trust, but he still needed to prove his loyalty. Making the agent disappear would be a telling chore. Would the fledgling recruit be frantic and messy, or methodical?

  His bedroom manner pointed to both. Long awaited plans, then too quick to execute. No willpower. Even less tact.

  That delightful vision powder might make him appear as Adrian, but Richard’s flaws bled through. O had to turn out the lights before he could even come. That never happened!

  “Squalinski doesn’t know about the apothecary yet,” Richard said in warning.

  O’s gaze narrowed. “True. And he better never—”

  “I won’t tell him,” Richard rushed to assure. “What I’m saying is, you keep Shauna until you get Adrian. Then, let’s hand her over.” He shrugged. “You won’t need her anymore after you have the apothecary.”

  O masked his features. “With his toy gone, why will the apothecary do my bidding?”

  Richard’s pale brows lowered in confusion. “You can’t keep him happy some other way?”

  Happy? Embers of resentment burned deep in O’s mind. Who said anything about happy?

  “Every man has his drug of choice. For Adrian, it’s her.”

  Sending that toy anywhere but an icy grave meant she could return some day. O couldn’t allow that. He’d cage her, far away from Adrian, or he’d kill her.

  Not that Richard needed to know that. The aptly named angel had feelings for her. On some minuscule level, he didn’t want to see her hurt. Hence the reason O found him cowering and sobbing like a baby instead of sticking around to watch her flames of carnage.

  Richard’s pondering tone stirred O’s attention. “But the powder.” He nodded to the side table, where O’s remaining stash lay tipped on its side. “We could use it on Adrian. We could bring any one of the whores from the club. Your apothecary’d never know the difference.”

  “Too risky.” O frowned. “I don’t like it.” O paused. Lifted a finger. “But for the agent…” It just might work. Who cared if the agent’s vision produced Shauna or Ms. December from Porn Girl Monthly? Squalinski would see what he wanted, and he’d take it. No questions asked.

  “Find a replacement. A decoy. Someone who couldn’t just get up and walk away.”

  Richard nodded. “Consider it done.”

  ****

  “First, you hot little love muffins.” Kimmy pivoted from the stove. She moved with such force, tiny bits of chicken took to the air as if they were born again. She staggered to one side, and then righted herself with a you-didn’t-see-that toss of her hair. Kimmy tipped a remaining forkful of chicken to Adrian, then Shauna, and back again. Her meat metronome kept time with her words. “We need to know how far the curse has played out.”

  Shauna gave her a flat look. “Curse?” You mean it gets better?

  “Yeah, yeah, the star-crossed ass whoopin’ thing.” She looked to Adrian. Her shoulders slumped. “Tell me you’ve explained this to her.”

  “I was working on it,” Adrian bit out.

  “Looked like she was the one doing the work.” Kimmy muttered an off-beat tune. “Work it, girl. Work it, work it, work it, girl.”

  Shauna frowned. The sudden morph of her lushly-slut-friend to a mystic know-it-all could have happened at any time. Why now? Why in the middle of her second best sexual encounter in the history of ever?

  Even more important, why rub it in?

  This wasn’t Kimmy at all. The mystic thing had been a qu
irky, little seasoning that Kimmy sprinkled on from time to time, not the oozing, sassy snot that seemed to have consumed her. Like the blob or something.

  Adrian seemed to reflect the same caution, as he looked from Kimmy to Shauna and back again. “Okay, something’s not right,” he murmured.

  Shauna shook her head. “Okay…About the curse thing?”

  “The men in Adrian’s family are cursed to find love and tragically lose it.” She waved the fork in circular, magic wand fashion. “Kinda like Romeo and Juliet. It’s a curse on the ancient apothecary who enabled their death.” With the last word, Kimmy emphatically flicked her fork-wand, and the wedge of chicken shot across the room. It disappeared with a wet thud, somewhere opposite the large island counter.

  “Oops, sorry.” She returned to the pan. “Anyways, you’ve already met. That’s when it started.” Kimmy sawed away at the meat; her shapely rear end jiggled back and forth from the effort.

  Adrian’s stormy-blue gaze rolled heavenward.

  “Let her eat,” Shauna murmured. “She’ll talk less with her mouth full. Kimmy, why don’t you take that to the other room?”

  “Clearly, you’ve found love.” Kimmy stuffed a forkful of meat into her mouth. Her next words came out muffled and thick. “So the next step is when Shauna bears an heir…mmm, this is good.”

  So much for the not talking. Or the leaving.

  Adrian pushed out a heavy sigh of annoyance.

  “Ugh…Kimmy, what’s wrong with you?” Shauna demanded. “A little privacy here?”

  Kimmy blinked. “But I have the munchies.”

  “She’s in a trance,” Adrian grumbled. “They require a lot of energy to prognosticate.”

  Shauna returned his statement with a wide-eyed look of why-the-hell-would-we-want-her-to-do-that?

  “Which reminds me,” Kimmy piped up. “You get delivery out here?” She retrieved the phone weighing down her oversized pocket.

  “Hey, that’s mine.” Shauna frowned.

  “I know.” Kimmy blinked several times as she slid her thumb across the phone’s surface. She murmured to herself. “No. No, that’s not right—who are all these calls from?”

 

‹ Prev