Eileen felt a soft tug on her sleeve and realized Jack was trying to get her attention. “Stand down, Eileen. She wants to walk home, just let her.” He slid his fingers along her wrist and gazed at her like some heartthrob out of a teen drama. She pulled away; Jack was trying way too hard. Now she wanted to walk her sister home so she wouldn’t have to deal with him.
“Grace, please. I have an early morning and could use the extra sleep. So really, you’re doing me the favor by giving me a reason to leave now and get to bed.” Eileen delivered this argument with exaggerated perkiness, channeling her best Elle Woods impression.
Defeated, Grace sighed. “Let’s go.”
As they walked away from the table, Eileen turned around and point to Cara. “Don’t fucking walk home alone.”
Cara smile and raised her glass. “This is my last drink and I’m the designated driver tonight.”
Eileen and Grace headed out of the bar, waving to Max as they left. She looked around searching for... what? She didn’t even know what to watch out for. These streets were her comfort zone. She doubted that she would be able to even spot danger if she needed too. Well, except that she’d already identified The Creep and his friends as definitely, possibly, maybe a threat… and they were filing out of The Brew right behind her.
“Come on, Grace.” Eileen pulled on her sister’s shirt and half-dragged her across the street.
Grace stumbled over the curb on the other side, pulled free of Eileen’s grip, and snapped, “What is wrong with you?”
“Sorry. Those guys make me nervous and I just wanted to get away.”
Grace nodded. “They are kind of ominous.”
“Right? Thank you, I’m not insane.”
“At least not about this. But, rationally, they’re probably just taking advantage of offseason rental prices. Or they’re training for a Strong Man competition in the woods. However, cult of hot serial killers is always a possibility.”
“Har, har,” Eileen responded. “Expect the worst and you’ll be prepared for the worst.”
“You know that’s not how the saying goes.”
“Whatever, my version is more accurate.” Eileen looked over her shoulder and saw that the men were still gathered at the door of The Brew. She turned back to Grace. “Pretend to look in your purse for your cell phone or something.”
“What?”
“Please,” Eileen pleaded.
Grace rolled her eyes but pulled her purse off of her shoulder and rifled through it.
The men were now stopped at the corner, and Eileen wanted to wait until they started moving again before she and Grace headed home. She did not want to have a group of unknown men walking behind her. Eileen watched as they huddled up like sports-ballers, bickering about something. The Creep removed himself from the group and stood to the side with his arms crossed. His chest and biceps were on display. Fuck, he seriously must move concrete blocks for a living. Eileen couldn’t think of any other way he could have earned those muscles.
She gazed at the pattern on The Creep’s flannel shirt until everything went slightly out of focus. She imagined his hand planted solidly next to her head. She would be on her back with the weight of his chest pressing down on her. She’d wrap her arm around his bicep and grab his shoulder. Grinding against his pelvis, she’d turn her head to bite his forearm, trying to suppress her rough moans. His other hand would grab her hip bone, pulling her closer to him with every...
“Eileen, I found it!” Grace yelled a little too loudly.
Jolted back to reality, she saw four sets of eyes looking right at her. So much for being inconspicuous. Eileen quickly turned toward Grace, snatched the phone from her hands, and bent over the screen. “Woah, that is crazy! Where did you get this? Reddit?”
Grace blinked and furrowed her brows, clearly not understanding her act. “What the hell, Eileen?”
Eileen peeked out of the corner of her eye and saw the pack of men continue walking down the street again. She relaxed. “I just didn’t want those dudes behind us, so I was trying to kill some time.” She wasn’t about to admit that The Creep had caught her undressing him with her eyes… for the third time that night.
“You are so paranoid. Come on. Also, I forgot to mention earlier that the plumber said he would mail an invoice to you since I didn’t have the group checkbook to pay him.”
“All right, I’m pretty sure it’s just in the same drawer it always is, but if you see the bill before I do, just go ahead and pay it.”
Eileen knew Grace wouldn’t. Literally no one in the house took responsibility for anything. Another hole she had dug for herself. Getting shit done was just a compulsion for Eileen, the curse of a Type A personality. And after years of Eileen taking the reins, her sisters now assumed that she would continue to handle everything. Although, Eileen could just as easily claim responsibility for her current situation; being a control freak means she never asked for help.
As soon as they arrived home, Eileen took off her clothes and climbed into bed with a very full glass of wine. She wrapped a chenille throw around her shoulders and burrowed into her mess of pillows and blankets.
Her mind ran through the night, reliving all of her embarrassing moments with The Creep. She must have looked like such an idiot. He’d caught her staring, more than once, probably with her mouth half open and drool spilling from its corners. He definitely knew where her mind was. The arrogant ass smirked at her like he was hot shit. Which he was.
She wondered what his hair looked like undone, falling around his face as he bent over her, slowly trailing kisses down her stomach. Pieces of his hair sweeping across her stomach, lighting thousands of nerves on fire. Strands gently grazing one nipple while he kissed the other breast, biting the tip until it was hard.
Eileen had moved her hands up her chest and traced circles around her nipples, teasing them to life. She imagined the thrill of his hair on her skin, sliding down the length of her torso. His mouth would come to rest at the top of her thighs where he’d drag his tongue along the crease of her leg. His hand would reach to her breast and roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
She grabbed a small vibrator from her nightstand and lay back down under the velvety soft blanket. Eileen used one hand to part her lips as she dipped the bullet between her legs. She was so wet, her pussy dripped cream onto the bed. She slid the toy to her clit, inhaling sharply when it made contact. She ran slow circles around the tip, using both her fingers and the vibe. Blood pulsed between her legs, and fire spread through her core. She turned the toy up and continued to massage herself, sending shivers through her body.
Eileen fantasized about his thumbs parting her as he dipped his head down, penetrating her with his tongue. His mouth would move along her slit kissing and biting his way to her clitoris, then cover her pussy, sucking and teasing. She’d urgently grind against his face, letting him know she was close. He’d tease her to the edge and pull back, over and over until she was begging for release.
The bullet was on the highest speed, so intense that she couldn’t rest it on her clit. Instead, it danced around in a circle until she couldn’t hold on any longer. She arched her back as the powerful bursts from her vibe brought her rolling over the edge. She held on for as long as she could, with each wave drawing tension out of her body. She let out a low moan and melted into her bed.
CHAPTER THREE
CAIN
Cain couldn’t take his eyes off of the new witch. He’d come to The Brew with the Wildwood pack a few times and had never seen her before. She was absolutely arresting. She even smelled enticing. Cain had detected witches’ scents in the bar before, but not hers. Humans would have never noticed her, but wolves could differentiate scents over a mile away, and witches were unique. They had a deep mossy, musty smell. Like a book buried for hundreds of years in the ground. But she was different. He sensed this witch before she’d even entered the room.
There was an ease to her beauty. She had narrow, smoky black
eyes that stared at him with a steady, seductive gaze. He felt as if she was challenging him. Keep looking. You can’t have me, you can’t touch me, but you can dream. He wanted her.
Cain took in every last detail. The witch’s mouth was half open and formed a slight smile. He memorized the deep bow in her top lip and the lush fullness of her bottom one. As he stared, she closed her mouth, catching the bottom lip with her teeth. Was she nervous? The things he could do with her mouth… or the things she could do to him. Shit.
Those lips should be around his cock. He wanted to look down and see her kohled eyes gleaming back up at him as she slowly rolled her tongue around the head of his dick. He fantasized about her hand cupping him and gently massaging his balls. He would grab her hair, unable to stop himself, and drive deeper into her...
She moved and broke eye contact, dragging him back to reality. But that didn’t put an end to his fascination. Her hair was in a single braid that followed the arch of her spine ending inches above her waist. Cain’s eyes continued down her back and took in the curves of her hips and thighs. He wanted to take that ass, maybe give it a bite.
His cock throbbed, and he wanted to escape somewhere to entertain these daydreams more fully. The bathroom? What if she followed him in there, ready to confront him for his blatant fixation? He would tell her to stop and lock the door. He would pin her against the wall and claim her mouth, trailing a hand up her shirt to cradle a breast in his palm, running a calloused thumb over her nipple. He’d drag his mouth to the hollow of her throat while he undid her pants.
The witch would reek of lust and need as he grazed her slit through her underwear. Who was the tease now? She’d release a soft, quiet moan as she hitched a leg around his waist to draw him closer, reaching to undo his pants. But his “No” would come out as a low growl. He set the pace, he called the shots. He was the alpha.
“Yo, earth to Cain. It’s your shot.”
Cain snarled at the unwanted interruption.
“Shut it,” Neil said, tapping his pool cue against the floor impatiently. “You can stare at her all night, but right now you’re holding the whole game up.”
Cain examined the table, trying to find the best move to make. Pool was a lot like chess; he wasn’t just planning his next move, he was planning his next three moves. He sunk the six and then the four, leaving the cue ball snuggled in a cluster-fuck of stripes and solids right by the pocket. Feeling very satisfied with himself, he walked to a high-top table, grabbed his beer, and watched Neil take his shot.
“She smells different. They all do.”
Cain glanced at Heath and tried to read his face. He wanted to tell Heath to back off, but there was no point in starting something without knowing the other man’s intentions. “They smell like witches,” Cain answered.
“No,” Heath said shaking his head. “They smell old and powerful. But I’ve been watching them and you would never know just how powerful they are; they never smell like magic. What kind of witch doesn’t use magic?”
Heath was definitely more curious than turned on. Too bad for him. Cain asked casually, “Do you know anything about them?”
Heath shook his head. “I’ve tried to find what I can since coming to town, but I haven’t gotten much. Neil’s done some extra digging about the one with long brown hair and he hasn’t been able to find out anything either.”
“Hmmm, too bad you don’t have better connections.”
“Lucky I have any connections at all. You have none,” Heath snapped at Cain.
Heath didn’t appreciate being mocked. He was an alpha too and had his own pack, unlike Cain. Wolves thrived with order, rules, and a social hierarchy. There was a certain freedom in structure and submission, for an omega. But Cain was not made to surrender.
All of the wolves at the table had been a part of a much larger pack in New Haven, but politics led the pack to split earlier in the summer. Malcolm, the New Haven pack’s Alpha, was a ruthless businessman who valued money more than his wolves did. His fatal flaw was running his pack like it was still the sixteenth century and he was a fucking Tudor king. But the Alpha had earned his position, and he didn’t have to grant his pack’s requests, let alone listen to them. Neither Cain nor Heath was willing to challenge Malcolm for the New Haven pack—he was too strong and too powerful—so they left. If it had been 1550, Malcolm would have hunted them down and killed every last wolf. But instead, they simply walked off the compound and hadn’t faced any retaliation since.
One tradition that had stood the test of time was designating the new Alpha for their new pack. Cain had battled Heath for that distinction and lost. Cain hated the idea of submitting to Heath or anyone else, so he left his pack. Again.
Neil came bounding over to Cain. “Way to fuck me over.”
He shrugged as he sipped his beer. “It’s the game. Heath says you’re after the brunette witch. You know anything about them?”
“I don’t know shit. She won’t even look at me,” Neil responded, obviously disappointed.
“Want me to give you some tips to help you with the ladies little buddy?” Cain jabbed Neil playfully with his pool cue.
“Fuck you. What’s your advice, ‘Glare at them until they fear for their safety?’”
“Something like that.” Cain laughed. “More like, ‘Glare at them until they want to cede their sense of safety.’”
“You’re so cocky.”
“And you’re not cocky enough.”
It was Cain’s turn again and he pushed away from his stool to survey the table. He took these games far more seriously than everyone else did. Winning was a matter of pride. Heath was always his partner, and Cain was pretty sure that was because the Alpha couldn’t stand to lose to Cain. His presence among the pack was already an affront to the norms; it would have been completely acceptable for Heath to banish him from his territory after defeating Cain.
Cain stalked around the table assessing his options. He bent down to line up a shot, drawing an imaginary arrow from the tip of his cue stick, past the ball, off the bumper, and into the two ball. He stood up to take the whole table in again and double-checked his angles before taking his shot. As he bent back down, he looked forward, directly into the witch’s eyes. His stick slipped and ricocheted off the cue ball, moving it an inch to the left. Shit.
The whole group erupted with laughter.
For the rest of the evening, he tried to keep his back to the rest of the bar in order to avoid more awkward staring. But he couldn’t stop sneaking looks at her. He caught her eyes as the blond man next to her nibbled her ear. Cain wanted that ear. The witch just stared at Cain throughout that intimate moment with the human. Her eyelids were heavy as if she was taking pleasure in the attention, but her body was rigid. Every time the human touched her, a growl simmered in his throat. He tried once or twice to talk himself out of this unwarranted possessiveness but eventually gave up. It was in his nature.
“Dude, Cain! Snap the fuck out of it.”
“Just go talk to her. I know it’s a radical idea.”
Cain turned to the pack and snarled. “Back off.” He’d had enough of their harping. “I’m heading home. I’ll see you guys later.”
“Stop, stay. We’re just having fun.” Neil handed him a pool cue as a peace offering, urging him to keep playing. But Cain didn’t want to be the butt of any more jokes. He may not be their Alpha, but he was still an alpha, and the insults were infuriating. Also, the witch was leaving too, and if he acted quickly he could choreograph a chance encounter with her outside The Brew.
“We’ll all go,” Heath ordered.
Dammit, cornering her on the sidewalk with five other men in tow was definitely not going to win him any points with the witch.
They left the bar and turned toward Cain’s home. He rented a small storefront and upstairs apartment just off of Main Street. The building was nothing impressive, just a few hundred square feet of retail space, back storeroom, and public restroom. His landlord told him tha
t the previous tenants ran one of those painting studios where you learn to paint while drinking a bottle of wine. It did great in the summer but flopped after the tourists left. That wouldn’t happen to his business.
After leaving the pack, he’d needed to figure out a new way to make money. He decided to start a business doing something he loved, drinking craft beer. The Brew was the only bar open year round, and it carried only cheap domestic bears. Cain had spent the last month running around looking for quality local beers that he could sell cheap enough to maintain a solid income all year round.
As the group walked to the first cross street, Cain was disappointed to see the witch run across the road. She stopped while the other woman dug around in her purse. The witch glared at him, clearly displeased by his attention, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
He wanted to wrap her braid around his forearm, forcing her head back and exposing her neck. He would kiss the soft hollow there, working his way to her nipples. He’d get distracted by her collarbone and stop to nip at the hard surface, drawing a moan from her lips…
A new scent invaded his nostrils, grabbing his attention. Now that they were no longer in a crowded bar, he could smell her better and he detected… fear? That was the last thing he expected from her after all the confidence she had shown inside. Was she really afraid of him? They were an intimidating group of men, maybe it was as simple as that.
Cain was vaguely aware that the pack was arguing over whether they should drive home or stay at Cain’s house for the night. He hoped they would stay; it would be nice to have other wolves around. Although, the studio apartment would be cramped with five extra men the size of trucks sleeping on his floor. He snapped his eyes away from the witch when the pack made their decision and moved on.
SOMETHING WICKED Page 2
