Enchant Me

by Anne Violet

  “He’s perfect isn’t he?” I whispered.

  “He’s pretty cute. Is this my competition for your heart?” he asked, head tilted to the side, charming me with his eyes.

  “Yeah, I am afraid you might have your work cut out for you,” I teased.

  Before I knew what happened, he lifted me up off the bed and rolled me onto the floor, pinning me with his body. “We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”

  I watched as his eyes started to darken and I forgot about Cody and everything else. Seeing that he had my undivided attention now, he looked around my room. “It looks like Pier One threw up in here doesn’t it?” I asked referring to the Asian, Indian, Moroccan theme I had going. I had throw pillows in every color all throughout the room, a deep blue sari over my bed and pierced metal lanterns for lighting.

  “Yes,” he laughed, “but I like it. It suits you, very bohemian.” He looked back down at me and I felt my insides flutter at the intensity of his gaze. “It looks like some sheik’s harem.”

  I studied what I considered to be the most perfect masculine face, as he fanned out my hair around me, wrapping my curls around his fingers and then releasing them. I realized he was creating some picture of me in his mind. “Are you painting me right now?”

  He glanced back down in my eyes, surprised and smiled. “How did you know?”

  “It’s kind of obvious. I think you consider me your pose-able Barbie,” I laughed.

  He gently drew a hand through my hair, then down my face and carefully around the diamond stud in my nose. “Punk rock Barbie, maybe”

  I slowly smiled but not with humor. With his cologne wafting around me and his wonderful, heavy body pressing me into the floor, my brain was emptying of everything but the crazy attraction I felt with him. I drifted my hands up his marvelous biceps, over his shoulders until I reached his neck. I curled my fingers into his dark hair, lightly caressing the nape of his neck.

  His eyes were smoldering as he looked down at me. I could almost feel the explosion of heat between us. His hands drifted down to grasp my hips and I could feel them tightening and relaxing like he couldn’t decide what to do. I understood more than he would ever know. I didn’t want to rush too fast into things either but sometimes it was damn difficult to keep that in mind.

  Luckily it was at that moment Cody decided to make his presence known. Bravely leaping off the bed, he had the great misfortune of landing on Christian’s back. As he started to fall off to the side, he dug his nails into Christian’s shirt--and back. Both cat and man yowled. I started laughing so hysterically that I was rolling around on the floor while both males eyed me like it was my fault.

  Deciding it would be in my best interest to appease both of them. I gave Cody a quick pat and went into the bathroom for some antiseptic for Christian’s back. I worried a little that Christian might hold a grudge against Cody. I was sure that had hurt pretty badly. But when I got back Christian had Cody in his lap slowly stroking him from head to toe; apparently all had been forgiven.

  “Are you alright?” I asked softly, trying to keep the laugh out of my voice.

  Apparently not succeeding, he quirked a brow at me. “I’ll survive, but you owe me.”

  I lifted up his shirt and gently bathed the scratches. “What did you have in mind?” I asked, while flipping back down his shirt and tossing the cotton balls in the trash.

  I rolled a ball with a bell in it across the floor and Cody leapt out of Christian’s lap to go after it. Christian straightened out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles, propping himself up with his arms and cocking his head to the side, he looked at me intently. “I’ve kissed you, now it is your turn to kiss me.”

  I wasn’t sure I saw the difference but I wasn’t going to argue. Without warning I lunged at him like the cat he thought I was and toppled him over. It was time he got a little taste of his own medicine. His eyes were wide and amused as I crouched over him. I leaned down close to him until our breaths mingled between us.

  I traveled his face with my eyes. “You really are beautiful,” I murmured.

  His brows drew together, his mouth wry. Oh right, he didn’t like that. “I mean you are so dang sexy,” I giggled.

  His expression lifted even as I bent the rest of the way to kiss his lips. I brushed my lips across his, once, twice, and then settled in to the softest of kisses. It was heavenly. I was right. His kisses were like full enveloping caresses and I let myself get lost in them.

  Only to find myself being rolled under him again, I yanked on his hair playfully. “Hey, I thought I was supposed to be the one in control,” I gasped.

  He didn’t answer or even look at me. He just pressed his forehead against my cheek and took a deep breath. Realizing that he was trying to regain control, I moved my hands down to his back and rubbed as calmly as I could. Eventually he pulled us both up to standing and pressed a quick kiss against my lips.

  “I think you’re middle name is Temptation,” he sighed and took a step away from me.

  Without thought I snapped right back. “Well I think your middle name is Sin.”

  He softly laughed at that and wisely I kept my distance while he let himself out of my house. The rest of the week passed in a happy blur, seeing Christian in-between classes and every other lunch, talking on the phone until the wee hours when we could. We couldn’t hang out after school until Friday since I had that belly dance performance to prepare for on Saturday, but I still felt pretty lucky. That is…until Friday morning.

  I had parked at school towards the back of the lot as usual. My helmet off, I waved at Christian as he made his way over to me, when I got that feeling I was being watched. I looked around expecting maybe Jenny or Tanya at worst, when my eyes fell on a lone still figure, staring at me from across the lot from the yard of the mental hospital next door, a chain link fence all that separated me from his malevolent stare. A chill went over my body and I felt the blood drop from my face, leaving me feeling colder than usual.

  He looked different although I couldn’t describe how. Then intuition whispered-- it wasn’t me he was thinking so maliciously about. It was Christian. Tremors started to course through me even as Christian reached my side.

  He grabbed my shoulders and when I looked at him I could see the concern all over his face. “What’s wrong,” he demanded, looking around trying to find the source of my fright.

  I glanced back to where I had last seen Nicolas and he was gone. “I saw…Nicolas,” I stuttered, closing my eyes and leaning into Christian’s warmth.

  “Where?” he growled, his dark eyes were tight with anger. I pointed to the hospital yard, knowing that he was long gone. Christian wrapped his hard arms around me, pressing me close.

  “What did I tell you?”

  “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me?” I mumbled into his shirt.

  “That’s right, come on. I will walk you to class.” I could hear the restrained anger in his voice.

  His arm was tight around my waist as he led me into school. He stopped me outside my first period class, pinning me with his eyes.

  “I am going to walk you to all your classes today, we’ll do lunch together too,” he lifted my chin with his hand. “You are not to leave this building today without me ok?” I nodded numbly.

  He brushed a kiss across my lips, “I want you to let your friends know what is going on too, the more eyes on you the better.”

  I pulled him in for a quick, reassuring hug, inhaling his scent before I walked into class. It wasn’t me I was worried about. I knew intimately what Nicolas could be like when he turned that laser beam focus on you.

  As the day wore on I started to relax. Between my friends being all about me and Christian constantly at my side, doing his best to make me laugh. I wondered if maybe I had imagined Nicolas there. I asked Tina to discretely look into whether anyone had heard he was back. I was immensely glad when school was over. Waving goodbye to Tina and Becca as they got on their bus I joined Chr
istian as we walked to my bike.

  With one arm around my shoulders, I could tell he was looking around, keeping an eye out. He even seemed to visually inspect my bike before he allowed me on. Even though I was sure he knew that I felt better, I could see the concern still in his velvety eyes.

  “I am going to follow you on the way to your house and then we’ll take my car,” he murmured and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.

  He was in his car and waiting for me to lead the way before I even knew it. I kept looking around on the way to my house but I saw nothing suspicious and decided to let it go for now. I would mention it to mom later. Once at his house, I really studied the yard and home as we approached the front door. His house didn’t really look like it suited him either. It was kind of--decrepit. The yard was overgrown, the weeds almost hip length if you weren’t on the small gravel path. The white paint seemed to be peeling in many places. All in all, it was kind of rundown… or haunted. I looked at him confused as he let me in the front door.

  “What?” he asked, a boyish grin spreading across his face. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings but I really wanted to know.

  “Why--um… haven’t you mowed the lawn?”

  He let out a short bark of laughter as he shut and locked the door. “My grandparents travel a lot so they haven’t had the time or inclination to take care of things around here. And as for me doing it, I have to admit I’ve been more interested in my art than maintaining the house and yard.” He put his arm around me and led me further into the house. “I’ll hire someone to do it as a coming home present for them.”

  I glanced up at him. “They’re not here now?”

  He looked down at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Nope, they’re in Arizona now, visiting relatives.”

  I caught his drift. “So it’s just you and me, huh?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  The upper level of the house was what I expected of grandparents, furniture from the fifties to the seventies, doilies on every available surface, pictures of Italy and stuffed fish on the walls. They had huge windows though, with gorgeous views of the Puget Sound. There was even a wrap-around deck. The house had real potential. When he led me downstairs, it was obvious that this was his domain. It was like walking into a different house from the one above. He had his own sitting room with clean-line modern furniture, a big flat screen TV. The color scheme a dramatic black, red and white, which for all his obvious calm and control suited him. His bedroom was huge. The first half seemed to be his studio, facing the windows, cluttered with every type of art tool you can imagine. There were a couple of easels holding canvases in various stages of development. One in particular caught my attention.

  I drifted over to it, looking back at him in a wordless query. He had moved to stand right beside me, looking almost shy as he met my eyes. “Yes, I was painting you at the art show.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Good. Cause it is,” he exclaimed, all shyness gone now. “Would you consider sitting for me for real?”

  That was probably the best compliment I ever got. “Of course.” I walked over and sat at his bay window. He was so amazingly lucky. “What a great view.”

  “Yes it is,” he replied, warmer than what my comment warranted.

  I glanced over at him and noticed he was looking at me and not the view. I inclined my head in silent thanks.

  “Christian,” I murmured, trying to draw out his name like a cat purring. “Come here.”

  His eyes got dark and smoky. He wasn’t stupid. As soon as he sat down, I crawled over to him and sat astride his legs. I faked a pout as I stared at his perfect full lips.

  “I didn’t really get my turn you know.”

  That god-help-me, sexy smile started to spread across his face as he looked deep into my eyes. He cupped both my hips with his hands, his dark velvet eyes daring me to follow through.

  “You’re right; I would hate to be considered unfair.” The soft, seductive, low tone of his voice was my undoing.

  Whatever control or sense of self preservation I had dissipated. I slid my hands in his shirt to grasp his shoulders, digging my nails in just as I bent down and nipped at his lower lip with my teeth. I wasn’t gentle and he didn’t seem to mind. I felt the grip of desire like I never had before. A kind of madness I couldn’t control and wasn’t sure I wanted to. Soon we were kissing ravenously, demandingly.

  He wrapped his arms around me, lifted me up and walked over to his bed. I didn’t stop kissing him the entire time. With lips like his, how could anyone blame me? He toppled us on it with him on top. I arched against him, unconsciously asking for more and then it occurred to me he was using his weight to immobilize me, not to incite me, and his kisses were turning from wild to soft and soothing.

  “Lex,” he breathed. “You’re going to kill me.”

  Sighing shakily, I didn’t dare open my eyes and look at him. I didn’t trust what I would do if I did. Slowly he moved off me and lay on his back, pulling me against his side. I threw an arm over him and laid my head against his chest. It was almost as good. I felt so safe and warm that my eyelids started begging me to close them-- and I gave in. Christian’s steady even breathing easing me into sleep. I don’t know how much time passed but eventually I felt him slowly ease away from me. I watched half asleep and bleary-eyed as he crossed over to his art space and bent down to get a sketch pad. My temples started to throb a little and I felt like there was something that was being shoved in my mind in front of my eyes. As it rocked into place, I saw an image of Christian, years ago I would guess, his body drawn up in a fetal position, his hands clutching his head while tears streamed down his face. I obviously wasn’t completely awake yet, I shook my head to rid myself of that image. What a horrible dream. I opened my eyes all the way to see Christian staring down at me.

  “Are you alright?”

  The pain was already starting to fade. “Yeah, just a little headache.”

  His brown eyes were soft with concern. “Would you like some aspirin?”

  “No, I’m fine.” I looked down at the sketch pad he held. “What were you going to do?”

  “I thought I would do some preliminary sketching,” he admitted, one of his big warm hands stroking my face.

  “While I was sleeping?” I gasped, horrified.

  What if my mouth was hanging open or I was drooling. Ugh. “You better not,” I warned.

  His dark eyes became calculating, “Or what?” he challenged.

  I got up to my knees on his bed, “or I’ll kick your butt, how about that?”

  I put my hands on my hips to emphasize the seriousness of my threat. Throwing the sketch pad on the floor he kneeled on the bed facing me. “I would really like to see you try,” he warned, a mischievous look in his eyes. Never one to back down from a challenge, I lunged at him almost toppling us off the bed. Within seconds I found myself tossed gently back to the center of the bed. Thank god, it was a queen size. As I got back up to my knees, I watched as he lifted his palm up, and like Bruce Lee, crooked his fingers in a bring-it-on gesture. My chin dropped, I couldn’t believe he was taunting me. Oh, it was on now! We playfully wrestled until the sun went down and I was starting to get tired. So I decided to finally allow him to win. Once he had me pinned down on the bed, leaning on his elbows over me, his hips pressing against mine, I moved my arms around to his neck and pulled him close, traveling his face with my eyes. I felt myself melt with all the sweet feelings he inspired.

  “Christian…I kind of like you a lot.”

  My heart squeezed as his eyes went soft and his hands insinuated themselves in my hair and cradled my head. “I like you a lot too.”

  Sighing, I pulled him in tight for a hug and held him there. I luxuriated in the shelter of his arms, feeling safe in the solidity of his body around me. I wished I could spend the night but I wasn’t so sure how cool my mom would be about that. So with great reluctance, I moved out from under him.

  “I ha
ve to go.”

  I could see the reluctance in his eyes as he stood up. “I will walk you home. By the way, some friends and I are playing soccer on Sunday, you want to come?”

  More time with my half Irish, half Italian, guardian angel? You don’t have to ask me twice, “sure.”

  Once we were out of his house and headed to mine, I could feel him glancing around again. His concern seemed to reawaken mine and I found myself studying every shadow we neared. I considered mentioning my concern for his safety, but being a guy, I was sure he would be affronted. Like I was saying he couldn’t take care of himself. So I kept my mouth shut. His arm tightened around my waist and he looked down at me.

  “I want you to be really careful. No running around at night by yourself and make sure to let your mom know that you saw him at school.”

  He didn’t have to worry. I had no desire to become some domestic abuse statistic. Looking away from the clear agitation in his eyes, I considered whether I should mention it to a couple of cops I was friends with and decided I would. Better to be safe than sorry. I was kind of relieved that I wouldn’t be home alone, I could see my mom’s car and several others in the driveway and all the lights were on. I realized she must be having one of her game nights with her co-workers. That should be entertaining. I smiled in spite of myself. Turning to Christian, I decided to lighten his mood or darken it with desire whichever worked. I didn’t want him worrying all night. I grabbed his arms and yanked him against me, twining one leg around one of his.

  “Mmm… I wish I could spend the night with you,” I said as provocatively as I could.

  His arms wrapped around me but the look in his eyes was incredulous. Like he couldn’t believe I was taunting him.

  “You are just asking for trouble. No, you’re begging for it,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly.

  He really was lovely and perfect. Deciding not to push my luck, I swiftly kissed him on the lips and ran into the house. I could feel him watching my retreat like he couldn’t decide whether to pick me up and carry me back to his house or let me escape for the night. I kind of hoped he would pick the former. But that was my wicked side talking. Mom looked at me suspiciously as I rushed into the house, but no doubt seeing nothing of concern she turned back to the poker game with her friends. I waved to everyone at the table and made my way to the kitchen. My mom followed soon after.