Cain was frustrated that he hadn’t been able to get the witch alone. He would just make sure he got another opportunity.
CHAPTER FOUR
EILEEN
The next evening, she changed into a long skirt and grabbed a pen and notebook before joining Grace and Bri for their new-moon ritual. She passed by Cara and paused to invite her to the circle. But one scathing glare from her sister told her all that she needed to know. This was a familiar dance; she knew Cara would never join them for a ritual, but she always asked. Eileen headed out the back door walked past their herb garden to the small forest at the back of their property. Her ancestors planted this grove over a century ago as a safe and powerful place for witchcraft and rituals. Almost every plant on their property served a purpose. Birch and Elder trees for protection. Scots Pine for prosperity and fertility. Aspen to connect with those beyond the veil and Rowan to protect them. Her mother and grandmother’s graves lay under the Aspen and Rowan trees.
Eileen entered the small clearing at the grove’s center where the sisters gathered. Grace was already there, holding a smoking bundle of herbs, purifying the space with sage. Eileen quietly nodded to her sister and settled into her normal spot in the circle. They usually held their rituals in silence, focusing on their connections to the earth and each other. Eileen wore skirts during rituals so that she could spread her bare legs against the earth—she felt like she was grounding herself to the goddess. She laid her notebook and pen parallel to her thighs and closed her eyes, waiting for Brianna to join them.
Their youngest sister came plowing through the trees, in a tiny dress and oversized cardigan, her bright blond hair piled on top of her head. Brianna collapsed into the circle and pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from her pocket. Grace snickered and made one final pass around the outside of the clearing with the smudge stick before taking a seat.
Grace cleansed herself, passing the burning sage over her body, and handed the herbs to Eileen. Closing her eyes and clearing her mind, she cleansed herself of negative thoughts and energy, slowly breathing in the smoke from the burning sage. She passed the herbs to Bri and closed her eyes, emptying her mind. After cleansing herself, Brianna stood up and cleansed the circle one last time. She didn’t always do that, but so much of their practice was based on their own intuition that Eileen didn’t question her sister’s action.
Brianna placed the bundle of sage on a flat stone in the center of their circle. Next to the sage sat an ivory candle surrounded by a pool of wax left over from previous rituals. Eileen lit the candle and sat down with her legs outstretched, toes reaching toward both of her sisters. They spent some time in complete stillness calling in the new beginnings. Each woman wrote down things they wanted to manifest or create. The new moon was like a blank slate, full of potential. Eileen usually called in patience or gratitude and not much else. But with the violence around town and the strange new men at The Brew, she also wrote “clarity,” hoping to gain understanding about the men who made her so nervous. After writing her intentions, she leaned forward, held her paper over the fire, and placed it on the stone to burn. Her sisters eventually did the same, and they broke the circle in unison and walked out of the grove in silence.
As soon as they were out of the trees, Brianna turned to them chirping, “I’m out!” and ran across the yard to a car waiting at the curb.
“She is a whirlwind.” Eileen laughed as she walked inside.
Cara sat in the kitchen drinking tea. “Done with the hocus pocus?”
Eileen ignored her and poured herself a cup of tea. “I’m staying in tonight, how about you?” She wanted some space from The Brew. She wanted to avoid running into The Creep again. Maybe a little time would allow her intentions to be heard. Maybe those intentions would bring her back to him.
CHAPTER FIVE
CAIN
Cain woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and crisp autumn air blowing over the lake, his two favorite scents. He loved to sleep with every window open and fill his apartment with fresh air. He used to sleep outside when he was with Malcolm’s pack, and he missed that freedom. In Wildwood, a wolf sleeping on The Green was one shriek away from a kennel in the back of an animal control truck.
Sometimes, when he woke up to the scent of his automatically brewed coffee, Cain imagined that he was back with his pack and an early riser had already started the pot. Then, reality would set in and he’d realize that he was alone, in a bed, in his cage of an apartment.
Cain peeled himself off of the mattress and poured a cup of coffee, black, and ran through his mental to-do list for the day. He was still putting the finishing touches on the bar downstairs and needed to order his furniture, paint the bathrooms, and finalize the signage for the windows. He couldn’t wait to get his business up and running. It kept his mind off of other things, like how quiet his apartment was.
He needed to work out, grab groceries, and take care of as much bar business as possible before his appointment with a reporter this afternoon. Last week, he’d received a call from a small newspaper asking if he would like to be featured in their “Creature of Interest” column. Cain didn’t want to be a creature of interest, but the reporter explained that the column was an ongoing effort by the newspaper to normalize creatures, and he could get behind that. Plus, he could use the free publicity for the bar.
Later that afternoon, Cain was walking home after finishing his errands when he turned the corner and saw the reporter standing outside of his bar already. Shit. The strong scent of a witch hit him. Rich dark earth, moss, and sage. Cain slowed his pace and looked closely at the reporter. She was the witch. The one from the other night. Fate had given him an opportunity to claim her.
He closed the distance between them. “Sorry to make you wait. You’re the reporter.” It wasn’t a question. “I’m Cain Martin.”
“Eileen,” she said as she extended her hand. Her eyes darted around looking everywhere but at him. Was she nervous or excited? Cain inhaled deeply through his nose. Earth, vanilla, and anxiousness. Well, shit. Anxiety could be triggered by anything.
She was even more beautiful than he’d realized. She wore her hair in a low bun, exposing her whole face and neck. And her smoky eye makeup gave her perpetual fuck-me eyes. Her pencil skirt hugged every curve of her ass and thighs. He wondered what they would look like when she laid next to him satisfied and exhausted.
“Nice to meet you. Come in,” Cain said, turning his back to her to unlock the door. “Follow me upstairs.”
Eileen paused and glanced around the empty room. “Your grand opening is in two weeks, right?” She raised an eyebrow.
“It is. It will be ready.” He bristled, irritated by her challenge. “Upstairs.”
Cain was acutely aware of her scent as she followed him up the narrow staircase. Eileen was... aroused? That was much better than frightened. He wished he’d allowed her to go first. Thinking about her in the skirt was driving him mad, and he regretted passing up the opportunity to watch her ass as she climbed the stairs. Her heels clicked behind him, as she steadily climbed to his bedroom.
They stepped into the apartment and she stopped short, taking in the whole room. “I expected an office, Mr. Martin. Would you like to do this interview at The Brew?”
“No. This is my office. Have a seat.” He gestured toward the couch.
“I’d rather sit at the counter.” She took a seat on one of the bar stools. She wouldn’t even look at him.
“No problem. It will be easier to sample the beers there, anyway. I thought that it might be a nice addition to the article.”
He opened the fridge and pulled out a few bottles. Cain hadn’t planned this ahead of time, but he wanted an excuse to spend as much time with her as he could, and it was actually a good idea.
Eileen sat on the stool, her spine rigid. She arranged her notepad and pen, placing them at precisely equal distances from each other and the counter’s edge.
She dove right into her pitch, all business. “Now
, I think the receptionist explained what the profile was and what to expect? The New Haven Herald has an ongoing series about local creatures that are contributing to the community teachers, police, politicians, and local business owners. Think of it as ‘Creatures: They’re Just Like Us.’ The point is to normalize shifters, vampires, witches, and other non-humans.”
Eileen rattled off the whole speech without taking a breath. When she stopped, she pushed the handle of his dirty coffee cup clockwise until it too was parallel to the edge of the island.
Damn, this witch was wound tight.
“Take a sip,” Cain instructed as he set down a small glass in front of her. “This is a wheat beer from a brewery up in Riverside. It’s a popular mellow ale with notes of orange and coriander. A husband and wife team started the brewery three years ago. I’m carrying a few other beers from them, but this is my favorite.”
Eileen stared at him and took a sip of the beer. She set down the glass and pushed it back across the counter.
“One sip isn’t enough. Take another.”
“What’s the name of the bar?” she asked, ignoring him. “I couldn’t find it anywhere in the records. Even the liquor license is just in your name.”
“The Winchester. I hadn’t settled on a name when I first did all the paperwork and, since it’s all me, I just registered everything under my name.”
She furiously scratched on her notepad and didn’t make a move toward the glass. “So it’s just you running The Winchester? No business partners? Do you plan on hiring employees?”
“It’s just me for now. I don’t have plans for other employees until the summer.” He poured the next beer. “This is an IPA from the same brewery.”
She looked directly at him. “No, thank you, I don’t like them. This isn’t for the article, but what is the rest of your pack doing if you’re running the bar solo? Most wolves start business ventures together.”
“I don’t have a pack,” he growled. “Try the IPA.”
“No thank you, I don’t like them.” She clipped the end of every word. “I can’t stand the bitter flavor.”
Eileen shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, forcing her skirt to ride up her thigh, exposing more skin. Cain was mesmerized by her legs as she continued. “I’ve never heard of a wolf without a pack. That must be lonely for a social creature. I would have assumed the men you were with the other night were your pack.”
Cain was growing increasingly frustrated. The witch wouldn’t do as she was told and now she was pressing him about his pack. “I am friendly with their pack, but I choose to be a lone alpha rather than an omega. Tell me what beers you like.”
“Anything dark. What will set The Winchester apart from other bars?”
“I have a porter from Millgrove. Smooth. Tastes like dark roasted coffee.” He set the whole bottle in front of her. “I’m stocking mostly local beers, though I will have half a dozen of the big names too. I want to add a retail space too, one day.”
Eileen took a sip of the porter. “This is delicious.”
Cain smiled, happy to have loosened her up a bit. He grabbed a bottle of his own, sat down on the stool next to her, and turned his whole body toward her. She still smelled like desire.
“What do you like to do when you aren’t working in the bar?” she asked.
“I run every day and play pool, but I try to keep myself busy with work. Tell me about yourself.”
“I…” she drew out the syllable and took a drink of her porter as if to buy herself some time before answering. She closed her notebook, set down her pen, and leaned over just enough for the front of her shirt to fall away from her chest. Cain could see the tops of her breasts spilling out of her bra. He wanted to free them. “I work a lot. And when I’m not working, I’m running around, you know, managing life.”
“What does that mean?” He canted his head.
“Bills, the house, my sisters.”
“Do you have young siblings?” Cain asked.
“Oh, no, they’re all grown. I’m just like the team captain? Manager? Their bitch.” She laughed nervously. “That sounds horrible. It’s not like that. I chose to take on all of the responsibilities after my mom passed.”
His brows furrowed. “You must do something to unwind. There must be someplace where you can relax.” Like in his arms. Under his body.
“I read a lot and I watch too much reality T.V.” She grinned. “Well. I don’t think it’s too much, but my sisters disagree.”
Eileen finished her beer and set down the empty bottle. Cain retrieved another one from the fridge. “Is that who you were at the bar with?” He looked at her to see if she gave away any feelings about the awkwardness of their stare-downs last night. She didn’t seem to care.
“Yeah, I was with Cara and Grace last night.”
“Who was the blond? A boyfriend.”
Eileen held his gaze. “No.”
That was all Cain needed. He slid off of his chair and stood in front of her. Placing his hand on her knee, he turned her away from the island and rested his palms on the counter behind her, caging her on the stool. Her breath quickened and he looked down to see her chest heaving. He bent down and kissed her, claiming her mouth. Eileen readily parted her lips, and their kisses swelled into a steady, heated rhythm. She tasted like the sweet, dark brew, and the smell of her arousal was intoxicating.
Her hands slipped under his shirt and grabbed his hips. Her touch was electrifying. The witch was everything he had imagined, and he would make her his. Cain moved his hands from the counter and cupped her ass, trying to draw her around him. A growl slipped from his lips. That damned skirt had tempted him all afternoon, and now it kept her legs chastely closed. He wanted to tear her legs open, to see her sweet pussy that was drowning in desire. He slid his hand under her and drew her forward as he sank down to his knees.
He hooked his thumbs under the hem of her skirt and looked up. “You want this.” It wasn’t a question, he knew she wanted him.
Eileen nodded.
He could smell her arousal. He pushed her skirt past her thighs and up to her waist. On the down stroke, he caught her underwear and dragged them over her knees and black heels.
He pulled her to the edge of the stool. She lifted her legs over his shoulders and draped them down his back. She smelled amazing. Vanilla and earthy spice mixed with her arousal. She reclined against the counter and her dark eyes watched him intently.
Cain wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulling her open. He trailed kisses toward her pussy, ending with a fierce nip on her inner thigh. She let out a ragged gasp. He paused, fevered breaths rolling over her slit. She writhed in his arms, her sweet puss inches from his face. He stopped there, taking in her smell and her pink little cunt as Eileen whimpered above him.
“Please, Cain,” she whispered and buried her fingers in his hair, gently urging him forward.
He loved hearing her beg. Her cunt was dripping and eager for his kiss. But she would have to wait. He passed over her slit and moved to the opposite leg, kissing and nibbling her soft skin. Cain wanted to tease her, show her that she was at his mercy. He brought a hand to her pink lips, barely grazing them. Her moans were deep and desperate. Her hands tangled in Cain’s hair as he moved back to her center and slid his tongue along the length of her pussy, ending at her clitoris. He covered the tip with his lips and sucked it gently. His tongue drew circles around her clit, and he poised a finger at her entrance, drawing a broken moan from her mouth.
Cain ran a finger along her slit, playing with the silky liquid that dripped from her. His erection strained against his jeans and his cock begged to be freed, but he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. He sat back on his heels and continued to toy with her. “You like this.”
“Yes. I do.”
“I wasn’t asking. Tell me what you want.”
Eileen looked at him through a haze of desire. “You.”
He slowly slid his index finger inside her and used his thumb to str
oke her clit.
“Fuck, Cain, that’s not enough.”
He kept his eyes on hers as he withdrew his finger and slipped two more inside her. Her chest rose and fell with her ragged breaths. She was so beautiful, and she would be his. He would make her his. His cock throbbed as he slid his fingers into her, so soft, so tight. Above him, Eileen’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as he massaged deep within her while his thumb floated over her clit.
Her breathing changed to sharp, shallow breaths, and he pulled his hand back and watched her writhe on the stool. She was his, he decided when she came. She dug the heels of her shoes into his back. “Come back, come back, come back,” she pleaded softly.
He lifted her, wrapping her legs around him, and carried her to his bed. He set her down on the foot of the bed and slid her skirt down over her thighs, revealing her fucking seductive curves. Cain was admiring her curves from her stomach down to her hips and thighs when he felt her undoing the button on his pants. Her fingers fluttered across his stomach. Fire raced through him and he ached with anticipation.
“Take your hair out,” he ordered. He wanted to see her spread out on his bed, surrounded by a pool of dark tangles.
He stood in front of Eileen, between her open legs, and twirled a lock around his knuckle. She dragged his pants down slowly, until his cock sprang free, inches from her mouth. She gently held his shaft and licked the head of his dick. Cain watched himself slide between her full lips as she slowly worked his cock with longer and longer strokes. Her smoky eyes looked up at him as she took his whole length into her mouth, sending a thundering wave through his body. This was exactly how he wanted her—those mischievous eyes watching him while her mouth stretched around his thick cock. It was too goddamn much.
SOMETHING WICKED Page 3
