Final Cut Miami Voodoo You Love?

by Belinda McBride

  “…you cooperate… bet I can…” She gave another swipe at his cock, this time catching the very tip with her tongue. She caught the faint essence of pre-come on him. She looked up at him, licking her lips.

  He growled, clasped her head and guided his cock to her lips. She didn’t open, so he rubbed his cockhead over her mouth, painting her with clear, salty juice. Unable to resist, Coco licked her lips and choked back a laugh when he thrust in.

  “Cock tease!”

  She laughed around his penis, drawing a gasp from him. Unable to move much, she reached up, searching out his balls, stroking them as he began to pump gently into her mouth. She was in a completely submissive position to Antonio, and could only take what he chose to give. Coco loved the way he stifled his excitement, keeping a firm grip on himself. She tilted just a bit, and though she couldn’t see his face, heard him groan as his cock slid even further in, aided by her position on the bed. Thankfully, she didn’t have much of a gag reflex, or things could get ugly fast.

  It was the sort of thing she wouldn’t do for just anyone.

  He moved slowly, carefully, so she focused on the bits of him she could reach, stroking the velvet of his testicles, lightly massaging the soft space behind. She pressed his ass with one finger, careful not to irritate the tender skin there. If she’d had some lube, or even saliva… She reached up, offering him her hand and he obligingly licked her fingers. The man clearly wasn’t afraid of a little ass play. She slipped a finger in, stroking the smooth, powerful muscle there, letting him control her penetration as he thrust. When she found his prostate and pressed lightly, he groaned deeply and dropped forward over her body.

  The movement changed the angle of his cock, so she clasped it at the base, guiding him back into her mouth. When his head settled between her thighs, she jumped in surprise, eagerly opening her legs. Oral rarely brought her to climax, but it sure got her primed for other things! As he licked and sucked, nibbling gently at the petals of her labia, she got busy again, running her tongue up and down the smooth column of his shaft. She couldn’t play with him much, but the angle allowed her to take him deep, so she lay, fucking his ass with her finger as he fucked her pussy with his tongue, her mouth with his dick. She moaned. He groaned. And their breathing sped up.

  Coco felt the fur of his pubic hair tickling her nose, caught the musky perfume of him, and tasted the spice of his coming ejaculation. It made her buck up into his mouth, her back taut with sudden need. He reached around her thighs, pressing his wet finger into her ass, the finger of his other hand into her pussy. He began to flick her clit rapidly with the tip of his tongue, bringing her up to a wild rush of orgasm.

  She shrieked around his flesh, spreading her legs wide, and then clamping her powerful thighs around his head. She bore down on his fingers, pumping hard, and finally… Finally all the pieces fell into place. Her climax was a thing of beauty, drawing groan after groan from her, and in the rush of the moment, she felt him contract around her finger. He seed rushed into her mouth and he pumped hard, spilling over her lips, into her throat and over her cheeks. He roared his pleasure against her flesh, the sensation almost too much, but far from enough. Together, they strained and thrust, moaned and finally found themselves drained and empty, mindless and numb from the pleasure.

  Antonio fell sideways on the bed, his flesh sliding from her slack mouth. He lay just inches from her, and she gazed at the smooth skin of his hip. Up at the other end, he lightly ran his fingers over her pubic hair, making her shiver from the sensation.

  “Dear God, you are just the kinkiest little thing.” He still sounded breathless.

  “You wouldn’t have liked me doing it if you weren’t just as kinked.” With a good bit of effort, she managed to lift her head and work her way back onto the bed. Once she was in place next to Antonio, she flopped onto her side. He reached up, wiping a bit of spunk from her face. They gazed at one another and broke out into laughter. After a few giddy moments, the hilarity tapered down to the occasional chuckle.

  Finally they wound down, not moving when the room went dim as the day passed. Antonio sighed, draping his arm up over the top of her head.

  “Coco, I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun with sex before.”

  “Beats whips and chains,” she muttered.

  “How do you…” He glared at her and she laughed.

  “You’re into that sort of kink? Boy, can I pick ‘em.” He frowned and rolled to his side, and Coco suddenly stopped laughing. “Seriously, you’re into the scene? My brother was a pro for a while. I used to tease him all the time: the black leather and chaps and stuff. But I don’t think he was all that committed.” She paused. “But you are.”

  He gave a heavy sigh and rolled over to look at her. “To be honest, the urges don’t seem to surface too much around you. I seem to spend all my time taking care of you…”

  “Damage control.” She sat up, leaning back on her arms.

  He sat up as well, hitching the pants up over his lean hips. He lay back and she trailed her fingers over the muscles of his abs. “No, I’m taking care of you, keeping you safe and happy. That seems to…” He looked at her oddly. “My need to dominate has become a need to nurture you.”

  “Oh, wow.” Coco wasn’t sure what to think about that. Did she really need a keeper? Well, strike that, she obviously did. But when… If she got better, would he always try to be steering her away from trouble? She crossed her legs and propped her chin on her fist, thinker style.

  “Coco?”

  “Mmmm?” She looked over at Antonio. Yum. She sighed, letting the gooey, happy sense of infatuation run over her.

  “You’re making sense.” She sat upright and frowned at him. “After sex, you have a period of lucidity. I noticed it earlier but figured it was the water. Not counting the shower, we’re nowhere near the ocean.”

  He was right! Coco crawled off the bed and returned to the window. Though this was a beachfront hotel, the water was too far to reach quickly, especially from the seventh floor. She looked over her shoulder at Antonio, who looked as smug as only a cat can look.

  “It means that whenever there’s a need, I can just fuck the sense right back into you!”

  She tossed a pillow, laughing as it nailed him right on the forehead. He hit the floor with a crash and lay there laughing.

  “Hey, that’s no way to treat your Dom!”

  Chapter Nine

  Even with multiple televisions on different sports stations, Final Cut seemed a bit on the eerie side. It might be the storm clouds gathering over the horizon, or the fact that in the farthest corner, the lights were dim and the screens flickered with nothing but static and snow. As they entered, Sam grinned and Coco made a beeline for the bar, draping over one of the spinning stools.

  “Babe, be careful. Your dress is long…” Antonio helped her tuck up the skirts of the maxi dress she wore and bent over to drop a kiss on her forehead. Sam lifted a brow and the grizzly shifter guarding the door let out on ominous growl. He gave the shifter a disdainful look and nodded to the owner of the bar. Standing for a moment, he let his eyes adapt to the dim light and spotted his quarry.

  In the back was the same woman he’d spotted the first time he came into the bar. She wore a white tunic over a long skirt and her hair was held back in complex braids. Not far from her, a young man was seated, sitting stiffly upright, hands folded in front of a glass of beer. He was darker skinned than she, and he wore a white suit. A cream colored fedora shaded a sharp-featured face. Antonio wove through the tables, ignoring shifters and Fae and whatever other paranormals occupied the space. He came to a stop in front of her table and glanced down at the cards arrayed in front of her. It appeared to be a simple game of solitaire, but nothing was ever simple when it came to witches.

  She looked up at him, showing him that a pretty woman had evolved into beauty over the years. Her eyes were sharp, her cheekbones sculpted. Her lips might have thinned a bit with age, but were still beautifully sha
ped.

  “Ola, Antonio Silva.” She glanced up at him briefly.

  “Boa noite, Tia Nicola.” He stared down at her, ignoring her son. They’d once played together in the streets, kicking soccer balls and whistling at pretty girls. But in time, Ramon had turned to darker pleasures and Antonio had fled their little neighborhood. “Posso?” He gestured to the chair across from her. She nodded graciously and he pulled out the chair, sitting and waiting.

  “How many years has it been, Antonio? Nine?”

  “Ten years, Tia Nicola.”

  She turned a card and put it into play, biding her time. She glanced up at her son, and then over at Antonio. “He’s still angry with you.”

  “It’s understandable. I hurt his pride and marked him.”

  She huffed out a disgusted little noise. “You hurt his libido, that’s all. I don’t think he ever really loved you at all.” She turned another card. “And his looks were only a tool to hurt others. You simply took away a weapon.” Her voice was waspish, and Antonio sensed the rising anger in the other man, but he kept his self-control. The fiery, arrogant Ramon of the past had learned to temper his heat. If he had continued on the path he’d taken, Ramon Vega might be a very dangerous man.

  Once again, a few tangled threads of the mystery began to resolve. He looked openly at Ramon, who met his gaze calmly. He nodded in the direction of the bar and Antonio turned, seeing a tall, slender vampire doing his best to mesmerize Coco. To his amusement, her elbow smacked into a glass of beer, splashing it on his clothing. The vampire left in disgust.

  “It is difficult to hypnotize the village idiot.” His accent was thick and unschooled. Ramon grinned at Antonio, who ruthlessly pushed down an angry growl. Instead he turned back to the old witch.

  “I’m actually looking for information about Coco. I believe someone put a hex on her.”

  “Really?” Tia Nicola lifted an elegant brow and turned another card. “Because if someone in this area had done it…” she glanced at Ramon, “…I would have known.” She abruptly scooped her cards into a stack. “Bring her over. Her hair’s a mess. I’ve wanted to fix it for weeks now.”

  Antonio turned, intending to gesture her over. Thinking twice, he returned to the bar and took her by the hand. Thankfully, she’d managed to remain fairly intact.

  “Did you spill his beer on purpose?” She grinned and nodded. “Good girl.” He kissed her again. “The lady back there… Have you seen her around?”

  “Yeah.” She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Voodoo lady.”

  “That’s right. I know her and her son, who’s sitting in the booth nearby. They were in my neighborhood.”

  “You told me… Macumba.” She gripped his hand a little harder.

  “Yes, my family never believed she was evil, but were still afraid of Tia Nicola. I don’t trust her son Ramon. I know him a little too well. We used to spend a lot of time together as kids.”

  “Spend time?” She nudged him, and he flushed. “No, there was no sex, though that’s what ended our friendship. I didn’t reciprocate his… desire.”

  “Not love?” She pulled him to a stop. She frowned as she focused on her words. “You grew up together; maybe he had deep feelings.”

  “Not Ramon. He had a dark streak as a kid. He didn’t hesitate to try and force the issue with me. At that time, he didn’t know what I was.”

  “But he does now.” She smiled wickedly.

  Yes, Ramon had tried to force Antonio, shoving him over the side of a car and ripping off his ragged jeans. That day he’d learned there were more frightening things in the world than his mother’s charms and spells.

  “They involved in this?”

  “I don’t know, kitten. But if we’re lucky, they’ll point us in the right direction. Tia Nicola never works for free, even for friends and family. And I think this is Ramon’s forte. So we’ll see.” He tugged her hand, leading Coco to the table in the back. In place of the cards, an array of scissors and combs lay on the table. A satchel sat open on the floor. He’d have suspected more nefarious contents, but it contained spray bottles and a rolled up cape that she whipped out and spread open.

  “Sit down, Coco.” Nicola waited behind a chair while Antonio gaped in surprise. “What? I had to have a marketable skill to come here. I went to beauty school.” She pushed Coco into the chair and tied the cape behind her neck. “I visit people’s homes… the sick and the old. That way I don’t have to pay booth rent and taxes.” She picked up a comb with a long, pointy tail and began working at a mat. She made a clucking sound. “What have you done to your hair, child?”

  Her accent was soothing and reminded Antonio of home. His parents still lived in Rio, but in a nicer neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. They had only a short walk to find space to shift and run. When they were finished in Miami, he’d call them, maybe take Coco to visit. He smiled at how easily she’d integrated into his life. Just days before, the future held only himself and his job. Now he had a mate. His job complemented hers, and his body told him without question that children were a possibility.

  “Look at him looking at you. I never expected to see Antonio so in love with anyone but himself.”

  “Not with a girl, anyway.”

  He didn’t even bother to look in Ramon’s direction, instead taking a seat where he could watch Nicola working on Coco. She frowned, working on the spot he’d started earlier. Could it possibly be the same day?

  “Such a tangle. Someone was very angry at you, young lady.” Her hands worked swiftly, but gently. The older woman looked up at Antonio, anger in her gaze. “This mess of her hair represents what they did to her mind. I can fix it up, but if you don’t find who contracted the spell, it’ll take hold again. Her mind will snarl as badly as her pretty hair.”

  “Do you have any ideas who did this?”

  “Oh, I have ideas all right. But the man -- or woman -- who did this hex isn’t that important. The person who paid holds the other end of this.” She tugged and pulled a long strand of red cotton from Coco’s thickest mat. “You burn both parts of this little rope and it’ll break the hex.” Antonio glanced over at Ramon, noting the other witch was looking into the distance, a look of complete serenity on his face. Had he performed the magic? Somehow, it didn’t seem like Ramon’s style. It was mean and malicious, yes. But somehow, he caught the faint scent of blood sacrifice coming from Ramon. He’d moved on to darker things.

  Once she’d unraveled the red cotton twine from Coco’s hair, the rest came apart like magic. Coco reached up and sighed deeply. She rubbed her scalp, relief evident on her face.

  “Antonio, is it…” She frowned and shook her head. “Still gone.”

  He wasn’t certain if she meant her husky or her mind. Didn’t matter, they were a step in the right direction.

  “Now my darlings, you figure out why someone did this. If you can find the person who cast the spell, that will be helpful. Other than the tangling aspects, is there anything outstanding about the spell? Anything that is… a signature?”

  “My animal’s gone.” For the first time since he’d met her, Coco sounded angry. “Gone. Not afraid, not asleep. Gone.”

  “You’re a shifter?” Nicola raised an arched brow in an expression he remembered from long ago. “And this spell took your animal?” She cast a meaningful glance at Ramon. “Anything else?”

  “Water. The spell grows weak around water.” Antonio felt rage creeping into his bones, waking the tiger. He couldn’t let it loose, not here in a bar, but still, he knew he didn’t have long. The cat had fixated on Ramon and wasn’t going to back down. Nicola had given her son away.

  As though sensing an explosion coming, the bouncer moved in their direction. In the far distance of his sanity, he heard the big man speaking to the bartender.

  “Hmm. Someone who uses patterns and hasn’t mastered the elements. Not an accomplished practitioner, I’d say, but a certain rough power. My son might know someone who matches the description.” Tia Ni
cola calmly put her tools back into her satchel, untying the cape from Coco’s neck. “Such pretty hair.” She stroked it gently, and then quickly tied it back into a French braid. “This will help, but it will soon start tangling again.”

  Antonio rose and sat on the bench opposite Ramon. He stared steadily at the man’s dark, shadowed face. He sought mercy deep within, a sense of old friendship. He found nothing. He rested his hand flat on the table, letting wicked claws morph from the tips of his fingers.

  “Someone hurt my mate, Ramon. Do you know who that might be?” His voice had dropped an octave, and came from an odd place in his throat. He caught the rancid scent of the witch’s fear.

  “Não sei!” he choked. “I do not know, Antonio!”

  He leaned forward, till he was just inches from the other man’s face. “Did you do this, Ramon? Did you know she was my mate somehow? Maybe the cards? Did you mean to take revenge for what I did to you?”

  Ramon jerked his head abruptly. “No. No, please, Antonio. I will make it right. I will tell you… Tonight I will tell you who has the other end of the rope. Por favor, Antonio!”

  “He didn’t do it.” Coco sounded devastated. “He’s just saying those things because he’s afraid.”

  Antonio didn’t turn in her direction. He never took his eyes off Ramon’s frightened face. “Como!” He hissed. “Who?”

  Ramon gasped. “Miguela, my wife!” He dropped forward, choking through his fear. And oddly, Antonio wasn’t so certain Ramon was completely afraid of him. He stood, reached across the table and fisted Ramon’s collar. He knocked the fedora off his head, revealing the scars running across the other man’s face. Claw marks, smaller than they would be today, running from the side of his face up into his hairline. That day so long ago, Antonio had twisted under the weight of the larger boy’s body, reaching and slashing, spilling blood for the first time in his life.