Black Magic Lover

by Cynthia Cooke

  He kissed her again, his mouth moving tentatively over hers as he tried to restrain himself. Sweet, so sweet. He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips. She opened to him and he was lost.

  With a soft groan, Drew plundered her mouth, exulting in the sensual play of their tongues. A quiver of electric energy shimmered to life and engulfed him with desire. He had to stop. He had to be the strong one.

  With a supreme effort of will, he pulled back from their kiss. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against the side of her lips, not able to separate himself from her any farther than that. He didn’t want to leave. But he had to. Now. Before it was too late.

  As if aware of his intentions, she wrapped her arms around his neck, coming half out of the water. Her full breasts were wet and covered in foamy lather that slowly slipped down her skin, revealing the dark cherry red of her nipples. The desire heating his blood exploded within him quickening his pulse, making him sweat.

  He slid his hand across her soft, slick breasts, then again over her nipples, loving how they hardened into tight, tempting buds under his palm. Her quick intake of breath did nothing to discourage him. In fact, it recalled to his mind her sweet cries of pleasure when she’d come that morning, and the way she’d wrapped her legs around him so tight, as if she’d never let him go.

  He leaned down and circled his tongue around the tip of her left breast, gently pulling the soft peak into his mouth. When he flicked it with the tip of his tongue, she moaned, her nipple growing and hardening even more.

  He pulled back as Laura fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. She smiled, her hooded gaze sultry and seductive.

  “Are you going to join me?”

  She slipped her hand inside his shirt, running her fingers across his chest, lingering on his nipples. Ribbons of heat shot straight through him.

  “No,” he somehow managed to choke out. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” She leaned forward and unzipped his pants, sliding her warm, wet hands beneath the waistband of his boxers, teasing his skin. He prayed for strength and yet at the same time he wanted her to go lower. To move those hot, slick hands over the length of him.

  “The tub,” he said in a last-ditch effort at control. “It will be a tight fit.” Merde, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

  “I’ll make room for you,” she encouraged and pushed his pants lower on his hips.

  An aching heat rolled over him causing his hunger for her to spike beyond reason. Beyond thought.

  He captured her face in his hands and plundered her mouth, thrusting inside the warm cavity with his tongue. He stood and let his pants fall to the floor. Her eyes widened as she focused on his obvious desire for her, then darkened with hunger. The pink tip of her tongue slipped out from between her lips, moistening them. He hastily pulled off the rest of his clothes, the need for her pounding through him like a living thing.

  She smiled as he stepped into the tub. He pulled her on top of him. Her body, slippery with water, slid across his. A throbbing ache cascaded through him as the softness of her breasts, the firm planes of her stomach and the delicate curls of her womanhood brushed over his erection.

  She rose and straddled his hips. He pulled in a sharp breath as she nestled her heat along the length of him. He moved gently, rubbing against her, driving himself a step closer to the edge, and pulling a soft, satisfying moan from Laura.

  She leaned forward to kiss him, and he opened his mouth to her and reveled in her passionate touch. She nibbled on the corner of his lips, tasting him, teasing him. She shifted, angling herself over him.

  He struggled to grasp one sane thought, a last hold on the real world, the world of pain and loss, the world of reality. The place where he should not be doing this, where caring for someone who was about to leave him and who could very well die was a very bad idea.

  And he realized in a jolt of pleasure as she brushed her sweet core over the tip of his penis, that it was already too late. With Laura he couldn’t stop himself from jumping headlong into the abyss. There was too much between them, so much more than an attraction or shared childhood memories. And something he would never be allowed to explore because Laura was nearly out of time.

  That thought, the one he tried never to allow, shattered his will. He captured her mouth and released his hunger, letting it flow in a storm of passion. His hands skimmed across the lush curves of her body. He wanted to accept her invitation and in one quick thrust end his torment, but he also wanted to make this moment last. He needed this moment to last.

  He pulled back, shifting so that he pressed against her thigh, and reached for the bar of soap. Sliding it down the groove of her back, he ran the bar over her round bottom and back up again.

  He lathered her skin then washed the soap away, exploring her with his mouth. He wanted to know every part of her, taste every inch of her.

  She whimpered slightly, a pleasure-filled sound that made his control slip. This would be the last time, he told himself. The last time he held her, touched her. Tomorrow she’d be gone.

  The thought filled him with a burning urgency. A need to show her how much she mattered to him.

  He had to make the afternoon feel as if it would never end.

  His fingertips skimmed her breasts and she arched her back, pushing herself into his hands. He lifted her above him, drew her soft, supple skin into his mouth. She tasted sweet and clean and smelled of vanilla. Yes, he was falling for her, falling hard. And he wanted to touch, to taste all of her.

  He sloshed water over the side of the tub as he tried to reach more of her.

  “Let’s say we move this to the bedroom,” he said, as he captured her earlobe between his teeth, and ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh.

  She murmured a lust-filled moan that was almost incomprehensible.

  Drew eased himself out of the tub and wrapped himself in an extra-large plush towel. Laura watched him, her languid eyes hooded with desire. He pulled another towel out of a basket and held it open for her. She stood and stepped out of the tub and into the soft cotton. He moved it gently across her skin, drying her arms, rubbing the towel down her neck, her breasts, everywhere he wanted to kiss.

  And would kiss. And taste.

  He bent his knees, dragging the towel down her stomach and pulled her to him, pushing his tongue into her navel, swirling it round and round. He pulled the towel down her thighs, her calves then back up again to the dark silky hair between her legs.

  Hungry for the taste of her, he pressed his face against her, thrusting his tongue between her curls to lick her sweet, tender flesh. She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers kneading his muscles as she struggled for balance.

  She moaned, her breaths coming in shallow little gasps as she swayed on her feet. She was close, too close to reaching that sweet abyss. He stopped, pulled away and lifted her into his arms then carried her to the bed.

  He would not give up control.

  Not yet.

  Too many emotions and sensations pulsed through Laura as Drew carried her to the bed. Like the perfect way her body fit his, or the way his touch felt against her skin. She burrowed herself within his arms and breathed in his musky scent.

  Gently, he bit down on her nipple. She closed her eyes as a sudden shock of pleasure shot through her.

  “Do you like that?” he asked in a raspy voice as he laid her on the bed.

  “I like you,” she said, and tapped his chin with her finger. “And everything you do.”

  He took her finger into his mouth and sucked on it, the swipe of his tongue on the sensitive tip sending an erotic rush coursing through her. He moved down her torso, leaving a trail of kisses to stoke the fires that were already burning out of control. Once again, he thrust his tongue into her navel, and silently she prayed he’d keep going lower.

  Instead, he rose back up next to her, his hands stroking and caressing until she thought she’d scream from frustration. She could play this game. She reached out and traced the ridges of
his tight abdomen. He took excellent care of himself, his skin tight and bronzed, his legs strong and sleek.

  With a light teasing touch, she moved her hand downward, playing in the soft strands of his hair. She brushed the tip of his penis, watching it jump. Then circled it and took the length of him in her grasp. He felt smooth, yet strong, and she gave him several long, featherlike strokes until he was breathing hard and pulling her up tight against him.

  “Drew, tell me you want me to stay.” She tightened her grip.

  He trailed his slender fingers down her stomach to linger in her silky hair. “You have to go. We both know it.”

  She shifted, bucking her hips, pushing herself against him.

  “You have to go back to San Francisco where you’ll be safe.”

  He leaned down and worked magic with his mouth. Magic more powerful than potions or voodoo dolls. It didn’t take long before she was teetering on the brink. He slipped a finger inside of her, making her rigid with need.

  “You don’t play fair,” she whispered and shifted, rolling her hips.

  He probed and stroked, sliding in and out. Sweet tension tightened her chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. She had to have him inside her. Now. “Please, Drew!”

  He slid into a condom, then rolled her beneath him and, in one quick movement, buried himself within her. She gasped, and pulled her legs up as he filled her. Almost too much for her to handle, but then he started to move and she expanded, the sensation sweetly delicious.

  Closing her eyes, she started rocking, their easy movements unhurried like a dance, moving in time to the rhythm of her pulse. She lifted her legs even higher, wrapping them around him, cradling him, pulling him deeper.

  How could she go back to San Francisco and give this up? Give him up? He slipped his hands in hers and held on tight.

  His pace quickened and fire shot through her, heating her to the boiling point and stealing her breath. She could no longer think or worry, she could only feel the desire building within her, the insatiable need for his sweet, strong touch.

  Suddenly, she was climbing, surging on a wave of passion that was sure to break and send her crashing. With a primal cry, she let loose. He stiffened. He was right there with her. Hand in hand they fell headlong into a deep well of pleasure.

  And as Laura lay lost somewhere between sweet bliss and brutal reality, she knew that in life there were some things worth hanging on to, some things worth fighting for and Drew was one of them.

  How could she leave him?

  Chapter 12

  Drew lay back against the pillows as Laura nestled up against him. She felt so good in his arms. He knew as he wound his fingers through her long, silky hair that he’d let things go too far. He cared too much. A lot more than he should.

  “Do you think Mary’s right?” Laura lightly stroked his chest firing his nerve endings and stirring the embers of his desire once more. “Do you think my mother’s dead?”

  He avoided looking into her eyes and dropped his gaze to the valley between her breasts. He didn’t want to see her pain, didn’t want to feel the tenderness she was invoking in him.

  He didn’t want to fall in love with her.

  “I think…something must have happened to her or she would have contacted you.”

  She took a deep breath, her breasts pushing against him. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m almost relieved.”

  This time he did look at her.

  “What possible reason could she have had for leaving me alone in another city?” Laura explained. “Whatever excuse she could have given me, it wouldn’t have been good enough. I’d always believe that I wasn’t loved enough. This way, if she is dead, then she couldn’t have come back for me. It hadn’t been her choice to abandon me.”

  Her heartfelt words broke through the wall of distance he was trying to build around his heart. He wrapped both arms around her and squeezed. “Laura, your mother’s decisions don’t define who you are. She was an adult. It was her life. Good or bad, whether or not she abandoned you, those were her choices to make. They are no reflection on you. Just because she left doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough or loved enough.”

  He paused for a long moment. “Sometimes no matter how much you care you can’t change what’s going to happen.”

  “I understand that, but if she is alive then her choice left me alone without a family.” Her voice stung with betrayal.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay.” She pushed up onto one elbow and looked down at him. He lifted his head and kissed her, slowly, softly and wished, not for the first time, that they were anywhere but here in this swamp. But they weren’t, and because of that, Laura could die.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said, realizing he needed to distance himself from her both emotionally and physically. “How about I run over to Mabel’s and get us some burgers?”

  “You’re on as long as I don’t have to go. Facing that woman once in a lifetime is enough for me.”

  “What can I get ya?” Mabel asked as Drew approached the counter.

  He placed an order for two burgers with the works, including fries and milk shakes. He watched Mabel warily as she rang up his order, and couldn’t help wondering how she and everyone else in town could have made the leap that Delilah was responsible for Paul’s and Georgette’s deaths.

  “Mabel, I need to ask you a question about Charlie.”

  Her gaze hardened. “What about him?”

  “Is he dangerous?”

  She stared at him for a long moment, her wiry gray hair shooting out in every direction. Then she let loose a loud laugh that started down deep in her ample chest and burst forth. “Charlie? Dangerous? You’ve got to be yanking my chain.”

  Drew wasn’t amused. “He’s been hanging around Lionsheart a lot lately.”

  “That old fool doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going. After Georgette’s death, he just lost it. Would go out into the swamp for days at a time, searching for his baby, come back stinking to high heaven. I got tired of it. Got tired of him.”

  “He thought Georgette was in the swamp?”

  “Don’t know why. He stood right there with me when we buried her. Says he sees her walking through the mist. The man’s done lost his mind.”

  “You don’t sound too shaken up about it.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to help the lost souls or the dead.”

  The insane glint in her eyes made Drew’s skin crawl.

  “But if you’re worried about that young miss of yours, don’t be. Charlie knows the difference between Delilah and her young’n. Even if they’re so alike. Brought back bad memories for me, though, things I’d rather not think about. Will she be leaving soon?”

  He nodded.

  “Can’t say I’m not pleased.”

  Drew wasn’t surprised. “Why was everyone so sure Delilah had something to do with Paul’s accident?”

  “We weren’t. Not until the sheriff pulled the car up out of the swamp and found an Enemy Be Gone doll in Paul’s pocket. Only one person around here made those. His lovin’ wife,” she added with a sneer.

  “And that was enough to convict her in the eyes of the town?”

  “She was planning on leaving Paul. She had a lot of money stashed away in a New Orleans bank account, and she’d bought two one-way tickets on a flight the next day. And guess where she was going?”

  He stared at her, knowing what she would tell him.

  “San Francisco.”

  “So why didn’t the sheriff arrest her?”

  “He would have, but she and her daughter disappeared before he could even talk to her. Mighty convenient if you ask me.” Her face filled with disgust and she shook her head. “I called the sheriff, told him that girl of hers was back and that I wanted her questioned. I won’t have a restful night’s sleep until I see Delilah Larame behind bars.”

  Drew tensed. “What did the sheriff say?
”

  “That worthless bum said he’d get around to it.”

  “I’ve heard Delilah and Paul were planning on leaving together and starting over somewhere fresh.”

  Mabel’s eyes widened with disbelief. “What about her daughter? Was she just going to leave her here? I said two tickets.”

  The boy in the kitchen finished the order and brought it to her. She handed Drew the bags of food. He shoved napkins, salt and pepper, straws and ketchup into the bags.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Laura hasn’t seen her mother since she was a child.”

  Mabel nodded, her fingers propped under her chin as she gave what he said some thought. “Well now, Drew, I can’t say that it does.”

  He wasn’t surprised. “Some people seem to think that Delilah’s dead,” he said bluntly, watching her closely for a reaction.

  Her eyes, already sunk into the folds of too much flesh, narrowed into thin slits. “Oh, that’s rich.”

  “Have you seen her?” he questioned. How could she still be angry enough to want revenge from a woman who has been dead for twenty years?

  “Everyone’s seen her,” Mabel spat.

  Shocked, Drew processed her words then quickly gathered his thoughts. “When? Is she still living here?”

  “Everyone has caught sight of her in the swamp every now and then. When the moon is full she likes to sacrifice chickens to the demons she worships.”

  Drew blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Mabel, Delilah wasn’t a voodoo priestess. It was an act, a ruse to help bring business into Voodoo Mystique.”

  He could tell by the tightening of her mouth that she wasn’t buying it.

  “I’ve seen her in the swamp,” she reiterated. “And I’m not the only one.”

  Drew paid for the food then left the diner, hurrying down the street, a sourness turning his stomach. Was Delilah alive? Did Mary know? Had she lied to them?

  Whether or not Delilah was alive, someone had arranged to bring Laura back just in time for his so-called “awakening” ceremony.