Potion Perfect

by Billie Dale

  Tensanne

  One-Week Later

  “HOW EXCITED ARE you?” Ronnie asks plopping on the bed next to me. “You turn eighteen in a few days. You have a great new wardrobe, you have a man that loves you, you are rocking your grades and you have a job you love. Plus, you always have that goofy satisfied grin on your face from having sex on a regular basis.”

  “I think I’m happy for the first time in a long time,” I say nudging her shoulder with mine. “Things aren’t perfect but it’s as close to perfect as we can get,” I say unsure.

  “Why am I not convinced by that? Is something wrong?” she asks detecting a sadness in my voice.

  “I don’t know. On the surface, everything is amazing but I just have this feeling that Kohl is keeping something from me. He seems distracted sometimes and I have this fear that keeps getting bigger and bigger that something is wrong.”

  “Nonsense, it’s just your insecurities coming out.”

  “I don’t think it is. I mean I know I’m not the hottest thing on the planet but I’m smart, I’m kind of pretty and I’m a good person. He loves me, I know it but there’s something and it’s something big.”

  “Well, you have a big party to go to this weekend. It’s Valentine’s Day and soon the semester will be done, basketball season will be over and you’ll see that it was all in your head,” she says hugging me.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “If you doubt him, use the truth potion on him. We haven’t used it yet,” she says moving to the desk and grabbing the small bottle.

  “We don’t even know if it works. Hell, it could give him some kind of rancid sickness that keeps him from finishing the season. I can’t risk it.”

  “You’re still using the love potion aren’t you? It worked. It gave you Kohl.”

  “I have a few doses left, I’ll run out on my birthday. I’m not positive the potion brought me, Kohl. I’m not even sure that was the intention of it.”

  “Well, go back to the shop. Find Esmeralda and ask her. She said you would know when the time was right to come back. Maybe now is the time.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Don’t you have to be at work in an hour?”

  “Oh, shit. Yes, I do,” I nod getting up and heading to the shower.

  Showered and ready, I walk across campus to The Coffee Shack.

  The afternoon rush is already starting. Archer and Leah are buzzing like bee’s behind the counter. Grabbing my apron, I take my place at the register to take orders, giving a wave to my co-workers.

  Fifteen customers later, Wren stands in front of me.

  We have only spoken to each other a few times since our blow-up during break. I’ve tried to smooth things over but he’s so obstinate when he’s angry. With the change in classes, we don’t have our study group together anymore and between work, classes, and Kohl I haven’t made any time for him. I want to kick my own ass for being a bad friend.

  “Hey, Ten,” he calls playing nervously with the cup sleeves on the counter.

  I’ve missed Wren. We were best friends before things got awkward and angry. “Hi Wren, what can I get for ya?” I cheer, happy to see him.

  “A black coffee, please.”

  “Still drinking that bitter ole’ black gunk, huh?” I tease.

  “Yeah, you know I can’t stand that sweet crap you drink. It’s not coffee,” he jokes smiling at me.

  “Now, we’ve had that debate many times, Wren my boy. It’s coffee, but the way I have it doesn’t taste like shit. So, how have you been? How are your classes?” I quiz him while Archer sets his cup in front of him.

  “I’ve been good, busy with homework but my classes are great. I wish we had some together. Mom and Dad miss you, they keep asking when you’re coming over for dinner,” he says stepping to the side so I can wait on the next customer but continue our conversation. “They wanted me to ask if you wanted to come over this weekend for a birthday dinner?”

  “I can’t this weekend. Ronnie and Kohl have planned a birthday party for me at the sorority house. You should come, Ronnie could find a pretty sister to set you up with.”

  “You’re with Kohl now?” he inquires his lips turning down.

  “Uh, yeah. We’ve been dating for a few weeks. But it doesn’t mean we can’t stay friends, Wren. He’s a great guy, you should give him a chance. Come to the party, it’ll be fun,” I encourage.

  “I’ll think about it,” he replies, taking his cup, he leaves with his head hung between his shoulders.

  Wren and I have been friends since we were in diapers. I’m pretty sure his feelings for me go beyond that of friendship, I know we made some mistakes in keeping that line drawn in the sand and I do love him. But not the way he wants me to. I want him to be happy. I want him to be happy for me. I want my fun loving, chattering friend back.

  The next hour is torture with all these thoughts running through my head. I keep trying to figure out a way for Wren to be good with Kohl and for him to be happy.

  “You seem distressed and sad. Anything I can help with?” Archer asks, wrapping me in a side hug.

  Laying my head on his shoulder a tear slips out running down my cheek. “Sometimes the gray area between friends and more than friends is really hard to navigate. I know now that men and women can’t be friends without there being some sort of attraction from one side or the other. That attraction, when not reciprocated, ends in disaster.”

  Resting his chin on my head, “You’re in relationship bliss. You want everyone in your world to feel like you do. You need to give it time and hope that when all the dust settles and your friend caught in the gray area realizes all you are willing to offer is being a friend, that it will be the result you want. But you also have to accept that his feelings may be too involved and he won’t be able to stay with you.”

  Turning, I wrap him in a hug, “How did you get so wise?”

  “Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend, Archer,” growls in a low voice behind me as I’m yanked out of Archer’s arms and shoved behind a pissed off Kohl.

  Raising his hands up, Archer attempts to diffuse Kohl’s anger, “It’s not what you think, man.”

  Grabbing Archer by his shirt, Kohl spews, “You’re always touching her, flirting with her. I’m sure it’s exactly what I think.”

  “She’s not my type, Kohl. I promise you, we’re friends,” Archer grits trying to pull out of Kohl’s grasp.

  “Kohl, stop, you’ve got it all wrong,” I beg, pulling on his arm trying to get him to let go. I haven’t seen him this pissed off since the night Chase groped me at Ronnie’s house. He’s scary when he’s angry.

  “Not your type,” he exclaims, “Stunning, smart, funny everything. That’s not your type?”

  “Yeah, it’s my type if it also comes with a dick,” Archer booms, squaring his shoulders. “I would rather have you than her, Kohl.”

  Dropping his hold, Kohl takes a step back. Confusion marring his handsome face. If it wasn’t for the tension in the air the shock on his face would be laughable.

  “I’m gay, man. Ten is only a friend, I swear.”

  “You’re gay?”

  “Yes, and holy shit does it feel good to say that out loud. I’ve been holding that in for so long,” Archer sighs, his shoulders dropping in relief.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the floor, Kohl reaches out his hand, “I’m sorry. I’ve been watching you and know you have that whole actor/artist thing going for you plus you’re smart. I thought you made a better match for my girl.”

  Shaking his hand, Archer nods his acceptance, “You’re a lucky man, Kohl. Hang on to her. If I were straight, you would have a fight on your hands,” he jokes.

  Smacking Kohl on the chest, “What the hell kind of cave man shit was that?” I ask.

  Pulling my hips to him, resting his hands on my ass, “You’re mine, Tensanne Craig. I don’t share. I will make sure every man knows you’re mine, no matter what it takes. I’ll kick the
world’s ass if that’s what it takes.”

  “I would love to ‘awe’ and ‘coo’ over your declaration of ownership but I really need you to talk to me before you attack my friends. Your macho commanding alpha self is wonderful in bed but out here in the real world, we need to communicate. Deal?” I ask.

  Pecking me on the lips, with a smile he nods, “Deal.”

  His display of affection was slightly skewed and a tad violent but he wasn’t afraid to let everyone in the shop know I was his. He’s willing to fight someone for simply hugging me. I never thought I would take pride in being owned by a man but I know as much as he owns me, I own him too.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Yoga pants are divine gifts to every man on the planet.

  —every man on the planet

  Tensanne

  “URGH, ARGH,” I grunt, tugging and pulling at my new skinny jeans. The jeans Ronnie insisted would showcase my ass and accentuate my long legs.

  “Holy shit, why do women wear these things?” I grumble, fighting to pull them over my calves. “Working on the elliptical has made my calves huge and these jeans are not going over them,” I huff out. “What’s the point of hair and makeup if you sweat it all off trying to pull your damn pants up over your legs?” I swear, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

  “Stand-up and jump,” Ronnie advises.

  She’s lost her mind, I think. “What the hell,” I mumble, standing and jumping helps shimmy the jeans up to my thighs. Tugging and pulling up the legs and the crotch until they are finally situated on my hips. Sweat is dripping down my face, I’m breathless and my hair is starting to frizz from the exertion it took simply to put on my jeans. I don’t even want to think about what Kohl is going to have to do later when he tries to peel these things off me. We may need a crowbar, proving there is something great about living in easy access, yoga pants.

  I slip on a camisole and the sheer, deep blue, flowing cold-shoulder blouse that Ronnie picked out for me to wear, I take in my reflection in the mirror. My brown hair, still with high and low lights, falls in large ringlet curls around my shoulders, my eyes are made up a smoky black that brings out the green flecks and my lips are a plump, kissable pink. The blue blouse floats down over my chest and rests slightly below my waist, the skinny jeans hug my legs like a second skin, holding in everything loose and highlighting my muscle definition, down to the Chucks on my feet. I refuse to give up my tennis shoes. I know Kohl prefers my glasses but tonight is a contacts night and the way Ronnie has done my makeup has my eyes shimmering. I’m beautiful. I’m eighteen and I’m me.

  “I’m ready, Ron. Let’s go,” I say grabbing my coat and purse.

  Looping her arm with mine, she exclaims, “Tonight is going to be amazing. Kohl is going to flip when he sees how gorgeous you are. I’m so happy for you, Ten. The way Kohl moons over you, I think you found one of the few good ones left in the world.”

  “I think you’re right, Ronnie. I don’t know how I got so lucky. He loves me. I can feel his love all the way to my bones,” I reply.

  The sorority house is lit up with pink while spotlights dance in the sky outside. Inside hearts, along with streamers in varying shades of pink line the walls. Pink and red balloons float, coating the ceiling. A huge banner hangs in the center of the room, “Happy 18th Birthday Tensanne.”

  Standing in the middle of the room, by himself, is Kohl. One hand in his pocket, one hand holding a dozen tie-dyed roses. Wearing a deep blue button-up shirt that matches mine and his eyes. It hangs out over his faded jeans that hugging his muscular thighs.

  Kissing me lightly on the lips, he whispers, “Happy birthday, my Tennie Girl. You take my breath away.”

  Ronnie bounces up behind me, grabbing the roses, “I’ll put these in some water and store them someplace safe.”

  The strains of ‘You Look Wonderful Tonight’ begin. Kohl wraps his arms around my waist, molding me to his body and begins to sway. Locking my hands around his neck, he drops his face into the crook of my neck and breathes deep.

  Everything and everyone around me disappears. The only thing I see or feel is Kohl. His heat, his scent, his tight embrace, his love.

  The songs change, people join us on the floor but it’s only us. Swaying in our own bubble. His lips peppering kisses up and down my neck, his growing erection pulsing against my stomach. The longer we dance, the more turned on I get until I’m ready to explode.

  His eyes are full of lust and need, mirroring mine. He grabs my hand and leads me to the back of the house. Pulling a key from his pocket he unlocks a room.

  As soon as the door clicks shut he has me caged against it. The heat too much, the desire too great. We crash into each other. Hands and clothes flying until we are both bare. Miraculously, he had no trouble peeling off my pants before he buried his face against my panties, his hot breath creating a surge of wetness while he pulled them down my legs.

  Taking a step back, he guides me to the bed covered in tie-dyed rose petals. “Lay down, so I can see your wet pussy,” he demands softly in my ear, sending shivers along my hot skin.

  I sit on the edge of the bed. My face level with hips, his hardness tempting me, calling to me. I need to taste him, feel his velvet on lips. Staring up at him, I run my tongue along his shaft, he groans. “That’s not what I said to do.”

  Flicking my tongue over the tip next to his belly button his taste explodes in my mouth, “You want me to stop?”

  “Fuck no. Take my cock into your mouth,” he orders.

  Grabbing his hard steel covered in soft warm flesh, I wrap my lips around the tip, flicking my tongue over the end. Humming in pleasure when his salty nectar hits my tongue.

  His thighs are shaking. I love that I have this effect on him, that I’m in control.

  Using my hand, I stroke him from base to my lips, following my hand back down I slide him all the way to the back of my throat. Continue to stroke his remaining length with my hand. His hands are fisting my hair, guiding my head lightly. He doesn’t push me to take more than I can handle, his sexual dominance is all in my hands, my control. He’s thanking God, moaning praises in my name and moving his hips in rhythm with my lips. My tongue tracing the veins, my lips suctioned tight, my teeth grazing his hard flesh.

  He grasps my hair pulling my head back, meeting my eyes, “Stop. I want to finish inside you. Now lay on the bed,” he commands.

  I quickly move to the head of the bed, feeling the rose petals against my hot skin and spread my legs so that he can see the evidence of what pleasing him has done to me.

  “Fuck, your thighs and pussy are soaked,” he grunts, licking his lips.

  Standing at the foot of the bed, his eyes rake over every inch of my body. My flesh is on fire with need. I pull my thighs back together and begin rubbing them, moving my hands to my swollen breast. Rubbing and pinching my nipples, my eyes never leave his.

  “Kohl, please,” I beg, “I need you,” I moan, my hand slowly moving down between my thighs, to ease some of the ache his heated stare has built between my legs.

  “Stop,” he orders, reaching out, grabbing my ankles. “Your pleasure is all mine tonight, Baby,” he says, dragging me down the bed. Dropping to his knees he buries his face deep in between my legs. Leaning up on my elbows, I watch his tongue lave at my slit. His dark hair moving, his eyes meeting mine, I drop my head back with a sigh, my orgasm building to volcanic proportions.

  Pulling back his head, he stands gripping my hips lifting me off the bed, driving his full length inside me. I scream out in pleasure, my ecstasy boiling over. Each slam inside sends another orgasm rocketing through my body. Tears are running down my temples, wetting the comforter underneath me. I pull my body back, searching for a moment to catch my breath with each slide his body follows me continuing it’s pounding pace. Hovering over me, I grip his strong biceps, digging my nails in deep while another wave consumes me. Breathless screams leaving my body until my voice is gone. I’m sure the whole house has heard me screa
ming with each raging tidal wave that consumes me. My body has gone limp, the only thing keeping my legs going is his iron grip on my ass. When I don’t think I can stand another, he surges forward and spurs me on again. My wetness slapping against him echoes through the room, our scent invades the air around us. With one last hard thrust, he empties inside me with a roar, collapsing on top me, covered in sweat.

  When he starts to soften, he rolls off to my side propping his head on his hand he kisses me deep. “I love you, Tensanne,” are the last words I hear before my overly pleasured

  body passes out.

  The sun shining in the windows wakes me. I smile at the aching muscles in my body and the soreness between my legs. I reach for Kohl but only find cold sheets where his body was when I went to sleep. I rack my brain to remember if he had somewhere to be this morning when Ronnie comes bursting into the room with tears running down her face.

  Immediately, I think something has happened to Kohl.

  “Ronnie, what’s wrong?” I gasp, holding the sheet to cover my naked body.

  “Oh God, Ten. Oh, I’m so sorry,” she sobs.

  Tears form in my eyes, “What’s happened? Has something happened to Kohl?” I ask fisting the blankets in my hands.

  She’s sobbing so hard I don’t understand what she’s trying to tell me.

  “Ronnie, calm down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “I thought it was good,” she cries, “I thought he loved you. Oh, I’m sorry. I encouraged you. I’m so very sorry.”

  My heart is pounding, tear stream down my face, “What happened,” I scream.

  Handing me her phone, “Here you need to see this.”

  Playing on the screen is a video of a woman laid on a bed, naked, caressing her breast moaning and gazing lustfully into the eyes of the camera. The woman on the bed is me and it already has hundreds of thousands of views.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A virus may start the zombie apocalypse someday but something going viral can make your world explode.

  —Kohl’s inner thoughts

  Kohl