by Unknown
“I’ll try. You have to admit, if you did feel like that about me, it could be the answer to everything.”
We’d danced around this point enough times for me to know to tread carefully. “You know I think you’re amazing, Paula. And, yeah, it might make it easy. Or it might make it worse. Feeding off each other….”
“I know, I know. You’re right. And besides, I’m over you.” She winked, swept her gaze over me. “Mostly.”
“There’s someone out there who will complete you, Paula.” I wanted to be sure of it. I feared Paula had found a best friend crush sort of love that would never go away for her.
She rolled her eyes and did a duck hand my way. “Yeah, yeah.”
I let it go, recognizing the glassy sheen in her eyes.
The umpteen hour drive wasn’t bad. I stopped mentally freaking about the whole thing, leaving succubus territory a few miles after the state line. Winter was definitely the time of year to go. Arizona was breathtaking and I wished we had a convertible instead of a sedan, luxurious as Paula’s Mercedes 7 series might be. Thankfully, her monthly trust fund check deposited in time for us to cash in. I called in sick for the week, but doubted I’d have a Hobby Lobby job when I got back. Too bad. I’d kind of started to like the place. I’d never been the crafty type, but being surrounded by mostly women, mostly older, in a completely nonsexual environment had been a nice break from the norm. Vera, Opal, and the rest would have to soldier on without me.
“How exactly are you going to bump into Justin?” Paula said the first afternoon as we pulled out of a pit stop in Sedona, Arizona.
My fantasy picture of the old man chanting around a moonlit fire evaporated. I stared at the hills that looked like giant red rocks sprinkled in powdered, sugary snow. “I have no idea whatsoever. How big is Santa Fe?”
“Too big to randomly bump, that’s fo sho.”
I ran a hand through my wind-blown hair. The dry air smelled like dust and sage and pine. “Internet search? Yellow pages?”
“Why don’t you try calling him back?”
“He hasn’t called, that’s why.”
“Oh.” She winced. “Sorry. Thought he had.” She let the sounds from the open window fill the car. “But it’s only been, what, a day?”
“Yeah.” Didn’t help. If he was interested, Justin would have called all day yesterday. Least that’s what my brain kept yelling.
“We can stalk him. It’ll be fun.”
I nodded.
“He was leaving. So maybe he had a lot to do. Maybe there was a layover or, I don’t know, shit happened.”
“Yeah.” I could call. First, I’d let myself get there. And let myself plan what to say to this supposed witch doctor. Paula would hand over four credit cards to the nearest guy with a stick. I’d need proof of real magic.
What would we do if this was—and it most likely was—another dead end? God, I prayed it wasn’t. Seventeen years is nowhere near as long as most have lived with this curse. Paula was going on forty-something. But it was wearing on my heart and my soul.
Much as I adored Paula, I did not want to spend a near eternity with her.
Chapter Six
A light dusting of snow lay on the Santa Fe streets. Pine was pungent in the air. Christmas would be here soon. Alejandro De Santos was far too easy to find. Too easy for this to be a good lead. As we stomped our feet off in the chiropractic office waiting room, my stomach twisting into tangles, all I could think of was chopping Paula’s hair off in her sleep. Better yet, going back to that club, finding that stupid redhead, and shaving her bald.
“Hey, it is a doctor’s office,” Paula said, picking up a magazine. “Sort of.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak lest I lose it, attack her like a rabid hyena, and land us both ass first in the county jail.
“We’re here. If he isn’t, he isn’t. We have to ask.” Paula was being calm and levelheaded.
I hated it. The receptionist smiled warmly at me as I returned the clipboards. Back pain. Whatever. “You two would like to go in together?” the receptionist asked, sounding far less skeptical than I would have.
“Yes,” Paula said, brushing at invisible lint on her slacks from her seat.
I didn’t know she even owned slacks. My jeans pinched at my hips and waist as I returned to sit next to her. I tried to empty my mind of all the thoughts hammering my brain. But I couldn’t. Justin. Seth. Paula. Jimi Gale. From one heartache to the next, my mind ricocheted, making the time inch by.
“Olivia Starr? Paula St. James?” A woman in Tigger scrubs held the door for us as we filed past, paused, then followed.
She led us to an exam room and took our vitals. “Back pain?”
I nodded. “Sort of.”
Tigger chick quirked an eyebrow up.
“She means we’re actually hoping to talk to the doctor himself is all. It’s a unique issue, you see.”
Tigger left and Paula thumped my thigh with her fist. I prepared myself to be escorted out by an authority.
“Hey!” I rubbed my leg, thwacking her arm. “That hurt.”
Before she could retaliate, the door opened. Dr. Alejandro Santos, I presumed. My libido purred to life. Antonio Banderas had nothing on this exquisite specimen of Latin love. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. I could almost feel the change in Paula. And men were not her type.
“Ms. St. James. Ms. Starr. You’re both experiencing back pain?”
Paula plunged in. “A redhead named Gigi, though I don’t think that’s her real name, gave me your name as a doctor who can help the strange and unusual.” Man, she could make her voice sultry when she wanted to. Dr. Santos’ eyes flashed, whether from what she said or how she said it, I couldn’t be sure.
“What strange and unusual ailments are you considering? I’m assuming you mean more than back pain.”
Paula flashed a knowing smile. “Do you know what a succubus is, doctor?”
His cherry brown eyes narrowed the slightest bit. He took a seat. “Gigi was her name?”
Paula nodded. Realizing my mouth was hanging open, I snapped it closed.
“I’ll need to do some bloodwork on each of you.” Though he addressed Paula, he looked at both of us in turn. “Depending on each strain, there may be options. I’m not saying I can cure the problem. But there may be ways to manage the symptoms.”
My hopes did a strange sort of sag that I didn’t comprehend. This was good news. He was an actual witch doctor, so to speak. He seemed familiar with what we were. Yet, something inside of me was disappointed. Maybe because he didn’t say cure. Maybe because I was growing to identify with what I was. Both possibilities left me agitated.
“Can love cure it?” I blurted out, interrupting Paula’s stream of questions that I hadn’t really heard.
Dr. Santos leveled his gaze at me. “I can’t say it couldn’t. I can only say I haven’t seen it happen. But then, I also don’t know how many of my patients have tried. Most are amenable to living with their condition, managing it.”
“How many of us are there?”
“I don’t know. I’ve conducted studies and treatment on around fifty over the span of ten years.”
Any we knew? Asking seemed like it would tempt fate. Instead, I stood up and strode to the far wall. I leaned against it. Paula ignored my reaction and continued her Q&A. I blocked out the noise of her voice and the scene I found myself in. I focused my efforts on breathing in and out, controlling the anger climbing inside of me. Anger would exhaust me and deplete the reserves being with Justin had given me. Knowing that didn’t stop me from feeling pretty ticked off.
Fuck, I missed him. And that was bad. I wanted him. More than that. I really liked him. And I might never see him again. The hollow feeling within me was expanding. The longing for him, his touch, his scent, the specific flavor of his attentions. I craved it.
“I need to get some air,” I said.
Paula and Dr. Santos paused, nodded. I left. I walked out into the desert air
. The cool breeze fingered through my hair. I squatted and gulped the coolness into my lungs. My eyes stung.
I reached for my phone and dialed Justin’s number.
A motorcycle roared down the street. Hearing the ringing on the other end, I straightened up and wiped my face. “Hi, you’ve reached Justin. I can’t answer the phone and if you’re calling my old number—“
I hung up. What the hell would I say? Of course, now he’d show a missed call from me and what had his outgoing message said? Screw it. I redialed. I listened. “…my old number, it’s going to change. L.A., baby.”
Shit.
Beep. “Hey handsome. It’s Liv. So, LA, huh? Nice. Still Vegas for me. Well, except for the next few days. Road trip to New Mexico. Anyhow, sorry I had to leave the other night. Paula needed me. Okay. I’m babbling. Catch you later.”
I hung up and smacked my forehead. “Damnit, Liv. Way to sound a fool. What happened to cool and intriguing?”
Too late now. I stared at the sky a minute, got my act together, and returned to find Dr. Santos walking Paula out. He handed her a paper. She thanked him and hooked her arm into mine, leading me to the car.
“What’d I miss?”
“Liv Starr, you and I are going to be a-okay, chica. Now, let’s find Justin. And a good gay bar.
Chapter Seven
Justin called back.
My stomach leapt up my throat, sending little tickles of adrenaline through my limbs. My hands shook. I set down my Corona and answered.
“Hey, sexy,” Justin said. “I got your message. How are you? Better yet, where are you?”
I chuckled, that exquisite feeling that trails possibility lighting through me. “Where are we again, Paula?” I ran my hand over my knee.
“Pinkie’s.” Paula grinned from ear to ear. “And not a single beauty in sight.”
I ignored her, but apparently, Justin couldn’t. “Pinkie’s?” he asked.
I suppose Paula had said the name loud enough. But my stomach wound up. “Yeah. This bar we found. More Paula’s flavor than mine,” I said, all at once jumping to the conclusions that he might be jumping to as well. Was I gay? Was I with Paula? “What are you up to?” Sounded too casual. Forced. Damn it.
“Just pulling off the freeway, actually.”
“Hope you have your earpiece in. I hear it’s a wicked fine if you get stopped talking on your cell phone in Cali.” I was fishing hard.
“Nah. Besides, I like a little danger.”
No bite on the “Cali” bait. I scrambled through my muddled thoughts for something brilliant, something sexy to say, but my nerves were too tightly bundled. The fact that Paula kept making smoochy make-out faces at her beer, tongue and all, didn’t help matters. “Sorry about leaving like I did.”
“Don’t worry. I actually thought you might sneak off.” He paused. I heard an engine rev, some tires chirp. “It’s why I haven’t called you. I figured you needed space. Maybe you follow that whole three-day rule or whatever it is nowadays.”
“Three-day rule? Only guys do that,” I said and had to wonder why my heart’s tempo went staccato.
“Some.” The engine went quiet.
“I’m at my stop. Can I talk to you in a minute?”
Paula stuck her tongue down the beer’s throat.
“Uh, yeah. Of course,” I said. “Absolutely.”
The line went dead and I dropped my head into my hand. Fuck! I totally blew it. Where the hell had my sexy gone? My cool?
“Straighten up and sit pretty fast, Liv.”
I looked up at Paula who had her eyes focused past my shoulder. “If you’ve spotted someone you think will interest me, forget it. I don’t want someone else.”
“Good to know,” a deep, masculine voice said, sending familiar shivers through me.
I spun in my chair, warm in all the right places, hot in my cheeks. “Justin!”
“Hey, you.” He sidled up to the high top table, introducing himself to Paula. She gave me that telling look of friends in the know the world over. I could’ve kicked her under the table. “So, what brings you two out to Santa Fe, aside from stalking me?”
I choked on my gulp of beer, spewing it over the table. I tried to explain, but the words came out as coughing nonsense. My throat burned.
“I had a job offer and Liv came out with me to check it out,” Paula said.
“Oh? And? How do you like it?”
My body grew hyperaware of him. The warmth of his shoulder touching mine. His cologne mingled with the scent of his essence. The way, inch by inch, he seemed to stand closer to me.
“It’s not really my speed. I turned down the offer.”
“It’s an acquired taste. So. When are you heading back?” he directed this at me, his gaze burning with intensity.
Paula shrugged. “Whenever.”
I licked my lips, tasting the lime from the beer. He watched. Unspoken questions seemed to pass between us. Was this okay that I was here? That he was? Were we scaring each other off? Or, did he get the strange feeling deep inside, too, that this might be meant to happen? Fated.
I tried to shake off the silly notion. Fate didn’t include digging around for a license in the dark then driving hundreds of miles to accidentally meet. But, he had said on his voicemail that he’d moved. Maybe it could be that he was meant for me.
Paula cleared her throat, making it obvious Justin and I had been doing little more than staring into each other’s eyes, grinning. “Another round?” she asked.
Justin and I nodded and the second she left for the bar, his mouth came down on mine. His kiss was fevered and hungry. I thrilled over it. And my last worries about appearing desperate fled to the recesses of my lust-fogged mind. I didn’t care any longer. He was here and he wanted me again and that was all my body and my naïve heart cared about.
He broke our kiss. “Stay with me,” he said.
I nodded, my hands finding the edge of his shirt and climbing under the material. His skin was hot and smooth. The muscles twitched under my touch. I kissed him, demandingly, entwining my tongue with his, breathing in his breath.
Paula returned and Justin excused himself to the restroom, though I suspected he was allowing Paula and me a moment to talk. “He asked me to stay the night.”
“Of course he did. And you should. He totally adores you, Liv. I’m really glad we came, though Dr. Santos turned out to be less of an answer than I’d hoped.” She put her hand over mine. “You should go. I’ll be fine. Call me in the morning and let me know what’s up, okay?”
Justin returned, giving me a glimpse of his swagger. My body zinged in anticipation. He returned to my side, pressing his shoulder to mine again. “You’re sure?” I asked, remembering the last time she said she’d be fine.
“One hundred percent. I’ll be good. Promise. Don’t worry, I have something to occupy my time.”
It was then that I remembered I hadn’t asked her about the paper Dr. Santos had handed her. I’d meant to. Despite not wanting to hear any more bad news, or long shots, I’d told myself I’d at least find out what had occurred after I’d walked out. Justin moved to leave. I hesitated.
As if she could see my thoughts, Paula shook her head. “Liv, it’ll wait. He won’t.”
Twenty minutes later, Justin walked me through his high-rise condo. “I’m beginning to suspect that driver wasn’t Garette’s at all.”
Justin chuckled, tugging me along by the hand. “Nah. It was his. Don’t be fooled. It’s just stuff. It isn’t what really matters.”
“Yeah. It’s nice stuff. Expensive stuff.” The view alone should require payment. The city lights blossoming to life as the sun set, staining the sky in molten golds and ruddy pinks.
“Impressed? Intimidated?” His tone was joking, but something in his expression told me my answer mattered.
I shrugged. “It could be a shack.”
His broad smile expressed how much he liked my answer. My chest tingled with happiness. My heart clutched. The lust
climbed. I wanted him and now it went beyond the physical. I wanted to see that smile over and over again.
He pulled me close, dimmed his bedroom light so that the tall window view of lights became our light. He undressed me slowly, letting his fingers tickle my skin. Then he undressed himself. I soaked in the long, lean muscled picture he presented. Small fears whispered through me. Fear I wouldn’t get to keep him. Fear he couldn’t love me. Fear distance would bar us from becoming more. I quashed them easily, the beast of my lust taking hold and caring for little else.
I went to my knees, my mouth salivating at the sight of his big cock. He stopped me, pulling me to my feet. “This time, I get to drive.”
I tipped my head. “Oh?”
He winked as he put me onto the bed and retrieved a length of satiny material. He tied me up. “Don’t worry. I know exactly where I’m going.”
My hands bound above my head, Justin parted my legs and positioned between them. The wicked look in his eyes sent tremors of delight through me. “Uh-oh,” I said. “You look like you have something planned.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Yes! But no. Though my imagination did somersaults through porn paradise, I loved the mystery. “Am I being punished?”
“Nope,” he said and trailed his fingers down my legs to the tips of my toes. “No hints.”
He picked one foot up and glanced over it, appreciation shining in his eyes. “You have gorgeous feet. Anyone ever tell you that?”
A small pang ran through my chest. “My mom never gave me one of those birds and bees talks. She sat me down and said, ‘Liv, honey, always paint your toenails. Feet say a lot about a woman. Make yours pretty.’”
