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A Touch of Magick: Spells, Seduction and Secrets, Book 1

Page 10

by N. J. Walters


  “Why would you ask such a thing?” Her mind was whirling. Had he discovered her secret? Had the words painted on the front of the store made him dig deeper into her past?

  “Because you’re pale and you looked as if you might keel over.”

  She stared at him, trying to understand his words. It took her a few moments to realize he thought she was asking about his second question, not his first one. She waved him away, a deep calm descending around her. Maybe it was better to get things out in the open now. Too many times in her life, she’d put off the inevitable and it had ended in disaster. If he was going to laugh at her, scorn her or leave, better he do it now than later.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  He pulled up a chair and sat facing her. “What did you mean?” He leaned closer to her, his expression intent.

  “Why did you ask me if I was some kind of witch?”

  His lips turned up slowly, making her insides go weak. Damn, the man was handsome, especially when he smiled. It reached his eyes, making them sparkle.

  “I’m not sure I should answer that.”

  She could tell he meant to tease her, but this was too serious for her to take lightly. She waited patiently.

  His smile faded and he became serious when he realized she wasn’t laughing with him. “Why did I call you a witch? Because I felt as if you’ve enchanted me, bewitched me from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m drawn to you.” He raked his fingers through his short blond hair in frustration. “I can’t explain it. I just feel it.”

  The bottom dropped out of Rhiannon’s stomach. Maybe the candle ritual had worked too well. Maybe Gwen had cast a spell without telling her. Either way, this was wrong. She realized she didn’t want Ryland to be attracted to her due to some kind of outside influence. She wanted him to want her for herself. Now she’d never know if it could or would have happened that way. “You need to leave.”

  He straightened slowly, every muscle in his body tensing. He was large and menacing and all but a stranger, yet she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. She knew he’d never harm her. Her magick might be suspect sometimes, but she trusted her instincts. The only times she hadn’t—like with her ex-boyfriends—she got hurt.

  “Why? You owe me that much.”

  “Because I am a witch and I cast a spell two nights ago to bring me a lover.”

  He stared at her and then threw back his head and began to laugh. The booming sound filled the space. He shook his head as he looked back at her. “I thought you were serious there for a second.”

  “I am.” There was no humor to her words. Each one was a death knell to what could have been, but wouldn’t be. She wanted Ryland, but not like this. Not when he felt compelled by magick. For once in her life, she wanted to be wanted for herself, because she was simply who she was—a woman with love to give. She should never have performed the spell with Esther and Maggie.

  “You’re a witch?”

  She could hear the skepticism in his voice and wanted to cringe. Instead, she straightened her spine and met his gaze. “Yes. I come from a long line of witches.”

  “Prove it.”

  She frowned at him, annoyance creeping in. “I don’t do parlor tricks.”

  “And I don’t believe in witches.” He took a deep breath and raked a hand through his hair again. “Look, I can respect the fact that you have different beliefs and think…” he hesitated briefly before continuing, “…you’re a witch.”

  Ryland got up from the chair and walked to the window, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “This is crazy. I didn’t even really mean anything by it. I want you.” He whirled around to face her. “That’s physical pure and simple. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that. It isn’t any more complicated than that.”

  Rhiannon stared at him, knowing he didn’t believe her. Not many did. And when they did, they had one of three reactions: they were scared of her, they wanted to use her, or in rare cases, they accepted her. She had a feeling Ryland would be different. If he truly believed, he’d probably just walk out the door and never come back.

  Her heart hurt at the thought, which made no sense at all. She’d just met him yesterday morning. He wasn’t really part of her life at all. Yet the thought of him turning his back and walking out the door left her feeling cold and bereft. This might be her only night to be with him. And rightly or wrongly, that’s what she wanted.

  “Are you going or staying?” She’d laid her cards on the table. It was his decision from here on in.

  “Staying.” His voice was firm, his word final.

  Ryland ate the pasta supper Rhiannon put in front of him. He was sure it must be delicious, but he didn’t really taste any of it. He ate by rote, chewing and swallowing each bite.

  He’d thought for sure she was going to boot his ass to the front door earlier and every cell in his body rebelled at the thought of leaving her. Not that he believed for one second she was really a witch. There was no such thing. Ryland believed in what he could see and touch and reason. Spells and witchcraft did not fall under the realm of the believable. Not for him.

  Maybe she thought herself a witch. She certainly looked fey. Maybe it was an act to help business or maybe she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic and truly believed it.

  His stomach clenched. He didn’t want to believe that. Didn’t want to have to deal with the implications. Maybe he was more like his father than he thought. The first woman to really test his resolve to not get seriously involved was possibly a nutcase, at the very least a bit of a flake.

  He studied her bent head as she ate in silence, scrutinizing the strong, yet delicate profile of her cheek and jaw. No, he assured himself. He was a good judge of character. He had to be in his line of work. Rhiannon was intelligent and definitely sane. For whatever reason, she’d felt compelled to tell him she was a witch.

  Normally, he’d have walked away without even bothering to sit down to supper. The last thing he needed in his life was a woman with delusions. He’d seen too much of that growing up, been through too many screaming emotional scenes with his mother. He liked his life calm and uncluttered both physically and emotionally, and he had a feeling that not only would Rhiannon clutter up his life, but she would be anything but calm. There was something about her that told him she would shake up his ordered existence if he let her in.

  Still, he couldn’t walk away from her. She was like a fever in his blood and he had to have her. The more time he spent with her, the more she intrigued him.

  Several of the guys at the station knew her or knew of her, and they’d been more than eager to talk about her when they’d heard about the incident at her store yesterday morning. They all thought she was hot, which had made his hackles rise. He’d wanted to punch several of them in the face, but had managed to control the impulse. He’d just met her and already he was jealous over her, not wanting other men to talk about her. It was crazy.

  But the overriding consensus was that she didn’t date and was, by all accounts, a really nice woman. She participated in community events and was well liked. Ryland sensed there was much more to her than met the eye and suddenly he was very impatient to discover all her secrets.

  Pushing back his plate, he contemplated what to do next. “That was delicious.” Even though he’d barely tasted it, he knew that statement was true.

  “Thanks.” She put down her fork and he noted she hadn’t eaten much, but had mostly pushed her food around her plate.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier.” And he truly hadn’t. The fact that she was distressed over what he’d said was bothering him to no end. “You didn’t eat much,” he added gently.

  “Not hungry, I guess.” She gave him a forced smile.

  Neither of them had touched the wine he’d opened. He’d eaten, but he hadn’t really enjoyed his meal and she hadn’t eaten at all. “This is ridiculous.” Rising from the table, he held out his hand.

  She stared at it for the longest
time, so long in fact that he began to worry. Then, as if coming to some internal decision, she placed her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, he felt a thrum of energy pulsing through his veins. His hand closed over hers, holding it tight as he tugged her to her feet.

  “I want you.” There was no hiding the desire and barely suppressed passion in his voice and he didn’t try to. She needed to know just how badly he wanted her. “I’m not looking for a serious relationship. You need to understand that before this goes any further.”

  Her violet-blue eyes darkened to the color of a midnight sky as she stared up at him. Damn, she was tiny next to him, his large frame dwarfing her. She brought all kinds of emotions bubbling to the surface in him. He wanted to take back the words he’d just spoken. He wanted to protect her and cherish her. He wanted to hold her close in the night and wake up with her tucked beside him in the morning. He wanted to love her slow and long and he wanted to fuck her until she screamed in pleasure, her nails clawing at his back.

  He was a volatile mass of seething emotions. He shoved the softer emotions away and focused on the most prominent need—the need to claim her physically. It was barbaric and primal, but it was also true. He wanted to mark her as his and let every other man who came in contact with her know she was taken. And clearly, he was losing his grip.

  The contradiction existed. He’d think about it later. Tomorrow. But right now all that mattered was Rhiannon and whether or not she’d invite him to her bed.

  “Rhiannon?” Her name felt right on his lips, and he knew that despite their size difference she would fit him perfectly. She’d been made for him. He tamped down his lust, focusing on the tiny woman who held such power over him.

  She tilted her chin upward, her gaze steady. “I want you too.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rhiannon could barely breathe. Dinner had been a strained affair, but nothing had prepared her for Ryland’s raw declaration of need. She’d been unable to do anything but respond in kind. She wanted him too. She was very afraid she wanted much more from him than simply a physical relationship. But Ryland only wanted sex.

  She nibbled on her bottom lip as uncertainty filled her. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d decided she needed, wasn’t it? This was what the entire candle spell had been about—hot sex with no strings attached. If she felt more than that, it was her problem, not his.

  She worried about Ryland’s motivation, what was driving him. Was it nothing more than the attraction of a man to a woman or was it more magickal in nature? If she had captured him in her spell, then she was just as caught as he was. Never had she wanted a man the way she wanted him.

  Ignoring all the warning bells going off in her head, she stood and stared down at her hand. He held it gently, his large, broad fingers wrapped around hers. Turning, she led him out of the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom. The light in the room was dim, the only illumination coming from the kitchen. Still, it was more than enough for her to see her way.

  Her bedroom was fairly plain and simple. The large four-poster bed dominated the small space. Gauzy white curtains hung around it, while a green comforter covered it. An antique maple nightstand, a matching dresser and a built-in shelf made up the rest of the furniture in the room.

  She stopped just inside the door and Ryland slid his arms around her body, one hand resting on her stomach, the other slowly traveling up her torso until it rested between her breasts. Her heart was pounding and her nipples were puckered tight and straining against her bra.

  “You are so beautiful.” He whispered the words in her ear as he kissed the side of her neck. His words moved her deeply. His kiss sent tingles down her spine. She tilted her head to one side to give him better access. He rumbled his approval and moved lower nipping at the base of her neck where it met her shoulder.

  He was so much larger than she was, so strong. With his arms around her, she felt wrapped in that strength, as though he stood between her and the rest of the world. Protecting her. Cherishing her.

  But that was an illusion. He was here for the sex. He’d made it very clear he didn’t want any kind of emotional attachment. She had to remember that if she didn’t want to find herself with a broken heart.

  “Ryland?” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask him, what she needed to say. Maybe she just needed to say his name aloud.

  “Shhh.” His tongue traced the shell of her ear, tugging gently at the trio of small silver rings at the lobe. Her toes curled in her sneakers as she felt the caress deep in her core. Cream slid from her body, dampening her panties and the crotch of her jeans.

  His hand shifted and he cupped one of her breasts, stroking her distended nipple with his thumb. Even through the fabric of her sweater and bra, she felt his touch as if it were on her bare skin. If she weren’t so turned on, she’d have been embarrassed by how easily he’d aroused her to such a fevered peak. She pressed forward, pushing her breast more firmly into his palm. There was no doubt about the pull of sexual attraction between them. It was magnetic.

  He groaned and his fingers tightened around her. “You’re so tiny everywhere else, but not here.” His hand slid down her torso and dipped beneath the waistband of her sweater. She felt the heat of his palm against her stomach.

  She expected him to touch her breasts again, but instead his hand shifted downward. His nimble fingers flicked open the button on her jeans and then pulled the tab of her zipper downward. The hissing sound seemed unusually loud to Rhiannon as her jeans parted and his hand slid deeper.

  She sucked in a ragged breath when his fingers grazed over her stomach. The pads of his fingers were rough and stimulated the nerve endings just beneath her skin. She loved the feel of his hands on her body. Wanted to feel them everywhere. They were so strong, yet he was so gentle.

  He cupped the silky material of her panties. She could feel the heat of his palm against her sex. “You’re already wet.” He sounded awed and pleased.

  “Yes.” She pushed back against him, wanting to get closer. His hard, thick shaft pressed against the small of her back. “And you’re already hard.” A shiver of pleasure washed through her at the thought that she did this to him. It was only fair considering how hot and bothered he got her.

  He gave a strained laugh. “Honey, I’ve been hard most of the day.”

  “Really?” She would never have thought him the type to be ruled by his hormones. He was the type of man who valued having control of his body and mind. She’d bet her store on that.

  “Yes, really.” His fingers slid over the slick material, brushing her swollen clitoris with each pass. “And it made for a very uncomfortable day at work.”

  She frowned. “I thought you didn’t have to work today.” That’s what he’d said last night at dinner.

  He continued to tease her with his fingers, never quite exerting quite as much pressure as she wanted. “Someone called in sick, so I went in to cover his shift. Like I said, it wasn’t a comfortable day. I would have much preferred to be at home.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at the aggravation in his voice. It made her feel powerful and womanly to have had that effect on him. “Poor baby,” she teased.

  “Witch,” he murmured, and she froze. But he was having none of it. He slid his free hand beneath her sweater up to cup her breast, while the hand buried between her thighs continued its slow, torturous caress. Rhiannon could barely breathe, let alone think.

  “There’s so much heat in you, so much passion.” Ryland ground his pelvis against her back. “I can feel it building inside you, just waiting to explode.”

  Her pulse was pounding, her hips undulating, reaching for every touch of his fingers. She was still fully dressed and he was bringing her to orgasm with his gentle stroking and his words.

  “Come for me, baby,” he encouraged. “I want to feel you come apart in my arms. Then I’m going to strip you naked and do it all again. I want to hear you scream my name when you come.”

  Reaching arou
nd, she gripped his sides with her hands, needing something to anchor her in the midst of this sensual storm. She moaned when his fingers carefully pinched her nipple through the silky material of her bra, sending a blaze of heat directly to her core. He was going to get his wish sooner than he’d hoped. She was about ready to scream. She was so close.

  “And you know what I’m going to do then?” His hand traced along the edge of her panties, but didn’t dip beneath the band to touch her slick, heated folds.

  She was panting hard now, barely able to breathe. Suspended on a wire of desire, ready to plunge off with just the tiniest of pushes. “What?” she gasped.

  “Then I’m going to squeeze into your hot pussy and fuck you until we both scream.”

  “Oh, God,” she cried as he finally slid one finger under the edge of her panties and plunged it into her molten hot sex. Her inner muscles grabbed his finger tight as he stroked her nipple and used his teeth on her neck.

  Rhiannon exploded. Throwing back her head, she cried out his name as her body convulsed. She would have fallen if it weren’t for Ryland’s strong arms wrapped around her keeping her safe. Never had she trusted a man so quickly or so completely. Rightly or wrongly, she gave herself into his keeping.

  She felt his hands on her, stroking her, quieting her. Another spasm of release took her and she shivered. She whimpered when he withdrew his hands, feeling bereft without them. But he didn’t leave her feeling that way for long. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down on the comforter.

  “I’ll be right back,” he murmured next to her ear before pressing a soft kiss just behind it.

  She closed her eyes, savoring her orgasm but feeling the loss of his presence in the room beside her. She was still fully dressed with only her jeans undone, but she’d just had the biggest orgasm of her life. She didn’t even want to think about what it would feel like to actually make love with Ryland. It might kill her. A smile played at the corners of her lips. What a way to go.

 

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