Strange Brew

by Angela Colsin

  Explaining this situation to Aislinn may have given her cause to be more open with him as well, but he didn't want her to feel obligated to let him visit, or potentially worry her when she already seemed so tense.

  So his best bet was to win her over with his own charms, but she continued insisting that they needed to wait until her birthday, and it drove him insane. What was so special about it? Was she obligated to remain single until then for some mystical reason he didn't know about?

  Whatever the answer, Troy found that the more he dug for information, the more she resisted, which only strengthened his resolve to know.

  So in stepping out onto the sidewalk with Miranda, he couldn't help thinking that this was his chance to find out—and also wondered what the witch wanted when she'd motioned for him to follow her.

  Miranda walked down the sidewalk a short ways, only stopping when they were out of Aislinn's view from the front windows, and then turned to face Troy, announcing, “I like you.”

  The comment was unexpected. “You do?”

  With a nod, she elaborated, “I think you're good for Aislinn.”

  It was refreshing to hear considering the way her daughter was reacting to him, and Troy couldn't help but ask, “Why do you say that?”

  Miranda's answer was simple and reasonable. “Because I've always known she'd never be content with a human. After her father's abandonment, she ended up dumping all of her boyfriends early on to protect herself from the same heartache she saw me go through.”

  Troy couldn't imagine what it must've been like to have a parent abandon her when his own had been extremely nurturing. He also wondered if that was the reason for her reluctance. Perhaps Aislinn had an irrational paranoia that anyone could leave her, and his insistence on getting closer was making it flare up.

  She'd just admitted that she resented the situation, after all. But that still didn't explain her desire to wait until her birthday before allowing anything to happen, meaning there had to be more to the story.

  So Troy's only choice was to ask Miranda. “I'm grateful for your approval, and I know this might sound strange, but I'll never want another woman now that I've found your daughter. Still, I'm not sure what to think of Aislinn as far as her reactions go. I've been trying to … what?”

  A knowing grin had formed on Miranda's lips, and she replied with every confidence, “Don't worry, in two days, Aislinn will be like a whole new woman, trust me.”

  “But why?” Troy insisted. “She's mentioned waiting until her birthday, and never explained the reason.”

  Sighing, the witch looked over at Strange Brew, then offered him a sympathetic smile. “It's not my place to say, though I get the feeling she'll tell you soon now. Still, just in case,” she reached into her pocket and handed him a folded piece of paper, “I should give you this.”

  Taking it, he inquired, “What is it?”

  “A spell that will help change the tide,” she replied cryptically. “Don't worry, it's simple, and you don't need to be a practitioner to make it work.”

  With a sly smile, she turned to go, calling over her shoulder, “My doors are always open, by the way, so come by our home this Saturday for lunch. There'll be plenty of food to go around, and Aislinn will be there.”

  As she walked away, Troy smirked, feeling as if he'd just gained an important ally.

  With the thought in mind, he looked down at the folded paper in his hand, opening it to read over the list of three simple steps Miranda had entitled Bewitching the Witch.

  1. Roses are adored in all colors and varieties.

  2. Truffles are a huge weakness.

  3. Add a dash of charm to their delivery, and reap the rewards.

  Roses, truffles, and charm? Piece of cake.

  Troy grinned, pushing the paper into his pocket before glancing over at Strange Brew. Though Miranda hadn't offered any answers, she'd quite possibly just given him the tools he needed to discover them for himself.

  The only question that remained was to wonder when the best time would be. Aislinn wasn't happy with him at the moment, and might be irritated over getting her favorite things after requesting that he keep a distance. But Troy had visited everyday in his endeavor to uncover the truth despite that request, and besides, he was a werewolf. Pampering his mate and showering her with gifts was something he did by nature.

  So now was as good a time as any.

  Chapter 13

  The bastard had sent her roses.

  Three vases with thirty flowers in each were settled on the front counter, one with only red roses, one mixed with pink, white, and red, and the last was full of yellow and lavender. They'd arrived half an hour prior, and Aislinn leaned her elbow against the counter, sighing dreamily as she stared at them.

  In her hand was an unsigned birthday card delivered with the flowers, but she didn't need a name to know where they came from. It was obvious that something was going on after Troy's talk with Miranda outside when he'd only returned to her shop for long enough to announce that he was going to run some errands, then left with a look resembling a wolf who'd been given a particularly toothsome treat.

  Afterward, several hours passed in relative silence with only a few customers here and there, and though she'd never admit it, Aislinn eagerly awaited the werewolf's return.

  Then the roses arrived. Troy was definitely the culprit, meaning Miranda had probably given him some pointers. Mom must really like him. Traitor, she thought, deciding to confront her mother at lunch on Saturday. But Aislinn supposed it was just a stroke of luck that he hadn't sent any chocolate in addition to the roses, otherwise she would've been doomed to failure when it came to her dwindling resistance. And my preferred method of showing gratitude.

  Grumbling over the thought, she stood up straight, endeavoring to get her head out of the clouds just as the bells chimed with a customer's entrance. The sound made her heart leap with excitement, and Aislinn looked at the door before she could stop herself, only to be disappointed when Heather walked in, not Troy. Damn it.

  Noticing the roses, she let a low whistle. “Wow, are those from Troy?”

  “Yep,” Aislinn confirmed.

  The younger witch, who wasn't due for a shift that evening, sighed enviously while browsing the aisles for the items she'd come to pick up. Following this, she brought her selections to the counter to pay, and briefly leaned in to smell the roses. “Why haven't you gone out with him yet, anyway? He seems like a good guy.”

  “I know, and trust me, I'm making plans.”

  Heather grinned in amusement just as the bell chimed again. This time, it was Troy, and Aislinn did her best to ignore him while her employee was present—and she didn't seem inclined to stick around either, grabbing her purchases once she'd paid before calling on the way out, “I'll see you later!”

  “Be careful,” Aislinn returned, waiting until the front door shut before putting her full attention on the werewolf.

  Coming to a stop on the other side of the counter, Troy looked the flowers over and asked innocently, “Roses?”

  “Uh huh, and I bet you had nothing to do with it.”

  He merely shrugged, and Aislinn parted her lips to inform him that she knew of her mother's betrayal, and how they'd pay for it soon now. But the words stuck when she realized that her favorite flower wasn't all Miranda passed on.

  Without warning, Troy held up a box of truffles to settle on the counter, stating, “I had about as much to do with those as I do with these.”

  She stared at the offering, then looked at the roses, and finally up at Troy, fighting the urge to grab him and show him what giving her these kinds of things would get him. She hadn't even thanked him for the pendant—at least, not how she would've liked—and groaned loudly, burying her head in her arms on the counter.

  “Aislinn?”

  “You're killing me, Troy.”

  “That's not exactly what I was hoping to do,” he countered, and she felt his hand on her arm. “I thought you'd enjo
y these.”

  “I do, and that's the problem,” she retorted, knowing he'd have no clue what she was talking about. In fact, Troy probably figured she was just prudish with the way she continually backed off, even cold—and that wasn't the kind of impression she wanted to make at all. I'm tired of playing this game.

  Good idea or not, it was time to prove that she wasn't ungrateful or disinterested, and there was only one way to do it.

  “Since when is enjoyment a problem?” he asked during her thoughts.

  Lifting her head, she took Troy's hand, guiding him around the counter with the words, “Come on, I'll show you exactly why it's a problem.”

  Once they were both in the storage room, Aislinn released his hand and approached a shelf carrying a few spell books, looking for the one she'd stored the parchment containing the ritual within. Finding it, she pulled the tome out, then tugged the ritual from its place in the pages and turned to face Troy, handing it over with a muttered, “There, read it.”

  He lifted the parchment, quietly looking it over while she waited, and it was obvious when he'd read the juicy parts because he suddenly looked up and asked, “Ritual sex?”

  “Yeah,” she drew out, pursing her lips.

  Troy read a little more, then put the parchment down on the table where she'd settled the book before his gaze locked on hers. “So you've been celibate for two months? No sex, or even masturbation?”

  “No nothing,” she confirmed. “You wanna know why you're killing me? There's your answer. Trying to resist for this ritual has been a real pain in the ass.”

  In an instance, Troy's gaze heated and his stance grew rigid as if imagining satisfying her unfulfilled desires. Aislinn meticulously kept her mind on the present instead of envisioning the same thing when he pointed out, “No wonder you've been so damned tense.”

  Groaning, she stated, “Exactly. I love exchanging gifts, Troy, and showing how grateful I am when I receive them. But with you, showing my gratitude would drive me crazy later trying to keep from … you know.”

  “Then I've been … fuck,” he drew out, groaning when he realized exactly what kind of torment he'd put her through. “Why didn't you tell me from the start?”

  “It was a private matter,” she shrugged. “I didn't know if you'd try to talk me out of it or something.”

  “No, I would've respected your wishes.”

  “Well,” she muttered, “it doesn't matter anyway because the sight of you drives me up a wall. Not to feed your ego, but damn it, Troy, I was doing fine up until a week ago.”

  He looked guilty, which wasn't how Aislinn wanted him to feel. Taking his hand to get his attention, she went on, “If it makes any difference, I promise I'll let you take me out once this is done.”

  “I still wish I'd known,” he began, but stopped when she held up a hand.

  “I … didn't only tell you about this so you'd understand why I keep pushing you away. I also wanted to ask you if … ”

  She trailed, trying to figure out the best way to put it; Do you wanna help? Nah. How about a chance to score with your mate? Nope. Care for a hot birthday bang? Hell no.

  Just when she was about to give up, he supplied for her, “You want me to perform the sex part with you.”

  “Yes,” she stated simply, thankful he'd saved her the trouble. Even still, he was probably about to jump all over her, turn on that smooth charm she had such a damned hard time resisting, and tell her he'd—

  “No.”

  The sudden denial brought her thoughts to a screeching halt. Looking up, Aislinn saw a serious expression on his face, asking before she could think better of it, “Why the hell not?”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she groaned at herself. But to his credit, Troy didn't tease her, though he did smile. “First of all, I've had ritualistic sex before.”

  “You have?”

  With a nod, he admitted shamelessly, “I'm a werewolf, and it was an excuse to fuck.”

  Simultaneously, his words excited her, and made her angry. The thought of him with some other witch evoked a sense of jealousy she'd never known the likes of before. But Aislinn strove for a casual attitude when Troy's ego was probably about the size of their galaxy just from being asked to help. He didn't need to know that she felt possessive as well—or disappointed.

  And damn, did it chaff. He probably wanted to do what was right for them in a long term sense of the word, and Aislinn was grateful he wasn't letting lust direct his choices. But knowing he'd participated in such things with other witches and didn't want to assist her actually made his rejection seem almost … embarrassing.

  She just needed to hear him actually say why he was refusing, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice completely in asking, “Then what's wrong with this?”

  Finally, Aislinn's behavior made sense, and damned if Troy wasn't ashamed.

  Not that he would've ever guessed she was in the middle of abstaining for a magical rite when they'd met. But the moment she'd handed over her parchment, he began guessing, and surely enough, there it was written down in plain English—full abstinence for two months at the least.

  That was a ritual he'd never be able to accomplish.

  But Aislinn was close to pulling it off, only to have her goals made that much harder to achieve by his attempts to draw her interest. Trisha warned you to be patient.

  Her resistance made so much sense now, but the relief he'd gained in knowing paled in comparison to his guilt. He had to make it up to her somehow, and the best way he could think to do so was by giving her as many orgasms on the night of her birthday as she could stand. Just imagining it had him so hard he ached, and gods, the fact that she hadn't eased her desires in nearly two months meant she'd probably want it all night.

  So he knew that agreeing to participate would give them both the best evening of their lives—and he had to deny it.

  There were two simple reasons, the first being that, regardless of how much he truly desired Aislinn, his acceptance would make him seem like an opportunist taking advantage of a situation. Perhaps she wouldn't see it that way, and he honestly didn't think she'd asked simply because she believed he'd jump at the chance to have sex with his mate, especially when she looked so disappointed by his denial.

  But that brought him to his second reason, which he explained, “Nothing's wrong with it, but you're my mate, Aislinn, and ritual sex is no strings attached. So unless you can say you'd wanna make love to me on your birthday regardless of performing it, I know it'd mean a hell of a lot more to me than it would to you.”

  It was possible that a part of Aislinn probably did want him out of interest alone, but she made it clear with her next statement that it wasn't the bigger part.

  “That's true, it wouldn't be more than that.” Sighing, she added, “I just don't know you well enough yet to promise more.”

  Troy didn't bother hiding his dissatisfaction, muttering, “Then I wish I could help, darlin', but I'd be taking advantage of you if I said yes anyway, and I won't do that.”

  Aislinn looked down as if she understood—and may have even felt foolish, grumbling, “Just forget it, then. It was a bad idea. Going solo would be easier anyway.”

  Unwilling to let her feel as if he was rejecting her, Troy reached over and tilted her face back up to his with a finger under her chin, retorting, “That's not possible. I can't forget that you're supposed to dance naked and then … ,” he trailed, groaning at the idea of her masturbating, which was incredibly pleasing and maddening. It's my job to satisfy her, goddamn it!

  Making the situation worse, the way Aislinn was looking at him now said she wanted him to do it. The expression shook him to his very core, and Troy couldn't stop himself.

  With a low growl, he pulled her body tight against his and caught her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. Instead of backing away, Aislinn grabbed him to return it desperately, proving just how starved for attention she actually was. It maddened him, and her scent was so hea
vy with arousal that all he could think about was lifting her onto the table and fucking her as hard as he possibly could.

  Still, as if she'd just remembered her abstinence, she suddenly tugged her mouth from his and pushed at his chest, rasping, “Damn it!”

  Troy held tight despite her struggles, his chest heaving as he growled again, this time in defeat. But no matter how deprived he felt, she'd been waiting two damned months, so he wasn't going to complain whatsoever.

  Burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply, he wanted to tell her how he'd spend days satisfying her needs once her ritual was completed. But that would probably only frustrate her even more, and proving he was doing that very thing now, she muttered, “Could you please let go of me?”

  Groaning, he did as she asked, and Aislinn backed up several steps, inquiring, “Okay, now that you know why I asked you to stay away until my birthday, will you agree?”

  There didn't seem to be any other option, particularly when he was unwilling to make things more difficult for her than he already had. “Agreed. But tell me something, why are you doing this rite?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  Troy shrugged, qualifying, “You're already strong, and this increases power, right? I guess I just don't see you as the power-hungry type.”

  Aislinn smiled in a manner suggesting he was right. “I'm not, and honestly, I'd let it go if I hadn't come this far already.”

  He could certainly agree with her on that score—no sense depriving oneself unless getting a return for the effort. “So why did you decide to try at all?”

  “It's a long story,” she muttered. “I'll just say I hadn't felt like myself when it came to magic, and thought it might help. Besides, what witch doesn't wanna increase her magical prowess?”

  Troy smiled, unable to fault her logic, though he wondered why she might've felt so out of sorts to begin with. But he was too concerned over their current situation to prod her with questions just then.