by BA Tortuga
Jesus, he was an asshole of mammoth proportions. He grabbed his phone and the local phone book, and looked up the restaurant.
“Hi. Yes, I was in earlier with a young lady with black hair. Lily…Yes. She did? Thanks.”
Fuck. She’d left almost a half hour ago. Way to go St. Marc, now she’ll never call. You’re a dick.
Lady and light, he’d never met a woman so perfectly frustrating. He just wanted to put her over his knee and…
His cock lurched, hardened.
Marc actually looked down, staring at his traitorous prick. Seriously? She was a harpy, right?
A harpy with a bow-shaped mouth and curves that went on and on. Lush, his father would have called them. And her hair was this wild mass of curls…
His cock gave another happy little twitch, and Marc gave up trying to ignore it. He opened his jeans, sliding his hand down into the opening. Clearly, he’d been without a friendly touch in too long. It had to be that, because she was a spoiled brat, obviously babied along by Brigit, let to do as she willed.
If she were his, he’d pop her butt occasionally, just to remind her that she had a lot to learn. Not hard, really, just enough to sting and make her jump and flush and… Oh, God. Just the thought had him sliding back to lie on the bed, both of his hands moving on his cock now.
She needed a lesson in control, in using all that power that was wild inside her. Marc groaned--he could so be inside her, her hands bound, her breasts under his chest, his mouth.
His hips started rocking, his breath coming in harsh gasps. His belly felt like a board, hard and tight. His balls drew up and his toes curled. Oh, the things he could do to Lily. He wanted to make her moan, make her arch under him and beg to come…
Shit. He could damn near smell her.
He closed his eyes, his body arching up hard, his hips pumping. He came, coating his hand and splattering his belly. God, that felt good.
Marc relaxed, melting back onto the mattress, the air heavy, a little sparkly. Yeah. She had the magick, that was for sure.
Now, how in hell did he get her to believe it and work with him before something really nasty got loose?
Before she got hurt or hurt someone else.
Marc sighed, rolling off the bed and padding to the tiny bathroom. He needed to clean up, and then he had to do some research. If he could find out anything about Brigit, maybe he could figure out how to approach her granddaughter.
Maybe this time without her bleeding or without him deserting her at a restaurant.
Chapter Six
Lily sighed and shifted, clicking through some e-book on her phone. It was too uncomfortable to sleep, too late to watch TV, and she was hyped as hell.
“Granny, I swear, it’s been such a long day.” She’d spent the evening with Mikey here, her brother talking about her new lion, like she had a new cat or something. “I know, I know, nothing like yours, huh? I hope you’re not hurting, that you’re just asleep…”
Her eyelids drooped, and she nodded a little, dozing. God, she was tired.
“Lily? Baby girl? I need you to wake up.”
Her eyes flew open. “Granny?”
Granny was there, standing, right by the window.
Lily blinked. When she looked at the bed, Granny was there, tied down with tubes, machines beeping and booping. But she was also standing there, by the window.
“You’re not dead are you? The machines would say.”
“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. Listen to me, okay? Did Ben come?”
She shook her head. “No. No, a Marc. Marc Marc? Marky Mark? Something. A big, redhead asshole. Pardon my French.”
Granny laughed, loud and hard, like she always did. Dad would say she sounded like a braying donkey. “St. Marc, huh? Well, you listen to him. He’ll help you at the shop.”
“He’s mean, Granny. He thinks I’m stupid.” Listen to him? Fuck.
“Is he? Is he pretty? His granddaddy was.”
“Yes. Big and buff and hot.” She sighed, feeling her cheeks heat.
“Yeah. That sounds like Ben.” Granny shook her head. “I need you to let him help, Lily. It’s the only way I’ll get well. Ben’s people are so strong in the magick. I would have married him but he shipped out before I could. You let this boy help you.”
“Okay. Okay, Granny. I’ll try. You promise you’ll get better?” She teared up. “I’m so sorry I made you mad.”
“Now you listen to me, Lillith Streigha. I wasn’t mad at you like you think. I was sick. Sick-sick. If you and St. Marc can figure it, I can get where I need to go, for sure.”
“You swear?”
Granny wavered, just a bit. “I need you to help me, baby.”
“Okay. Okay. I promise. I will figure it. I swear.” She started crying. “I’m so sorry about Hedda.”
“Yes, well, that’s not on your shoulders. Focus on what you can do, now. Dry it up. You go to that Marc.” Granny stared at her hard, and the beeping behind her got louder.
“Okay. Okay, please.” She reached out, her hand slamming against the glass, waking her up as the machines around Granny went crazy. Suddenly swarms of nurses were in the room, pushing her out.
“Granny?” She found herself standing outside, staring, tears running down her face, her fucking phone still in her hand, that bastard’s card stuck in the damned rubber case. What the hell?
She took the phone, typed in the number, and listened to it ring. As soon as she heard the “Hello?” she started in. “Look, you son of a bitch, I don’t know what you know, but Granny says you can help me make her well, so you tell me where the fuck to meet you. Right now.”
* * * *
Marc waited for Lily to show up at the hotel. They couldn’t go to the store at this time of night, not in a town this small. He’d been damned glad she called because if Grandpere Ben didn’t leave him the hell alone, he was going to damage something. Possibly himself.
The old bastard had been absolutely relentless, poking him, calling him names, driving him out of his fucking mind.
“I told you she’d call,” he muttered, trying not to feel like a sulky five year old. Ben didn’t really answer, but Marc could hear him laughing.
The knock on his door was sharp, Lily’s anger obvious in the short sound.
He took a deep breath, determined not to yell this time. He was the soul of calm. Efficient. Unaffected. He opened the door, took one look at her, and got a hard-on.
“I brought coffees.” A Styrofoam cup was pushed into his hand.
“Oh, thank God.” That would help a lot. He stepped back to let her in.
She looked around, then sat primly on the one chair, her legs tucked beneath her. She looked like living sex, with her low-slung jeans and black and white layered tank tops. There was the hint of a belly ring, just barely visible under her shirt.
He really needed to be thinking of work. Magick. Not her hips and thighs.
“So. What do we have to do to help Granny?”
“Well, first we have to get rid of the poltergeist. We can’t get a thing done with it tossing shit at you.”
“Okay. What do I have to do? Glue the pot back together? Find a priest?” She looked so determined. “I know the basics about things, and there’s Granny’s book, but I can’t get in there to read it.”
“No. I mean, I can do it. In theory.” He’d only ever dealt with one poltergeist, and he’d had Katrina and Mom to back him.
“Okay.” She sat there, staring at him, eyes like holes in a blanket.
“I’ll need to help. We’ll need a new vessel. Something similar to what it was in before. I also have a list of herbs.”
“So, do you need a pot made, or can I go to Target?”
“I’d rather get something with some age or something with some intent built in if it’s new.” He grinned; she was just so flat. She didn’t believe any of this, but something had made her come to him. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.” She met his e
yes.
“What changed your mind?”
“Granny.” Her chin lifted, eyes flashing. “She said we have to work together to make her better.”
“She woke up?” That would be great. Better than great.
“No.” Marc felt the flash of energy that shot from her.
“Oh.” Oops. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” He paused, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry I left you with no ride. It didn’t occur to me until you were gone.”
“I managed. I should have known better than not to take my car. I won’t make that mistake again.” She grabbed her phone. “So, an old pot. What herbs? If Granny doesn’t have them, I’ll run into Austin. The big Whole Foods.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Don’t make fun of me. I’m trying to get what you need. I even offered to make you a pot.” She rolled her eyes. “Asshole.”
“I wasn’t making fun. I happen to think food is good, and a man can only eat so much barbecue.” Asshole, huh? Wow.
“I guess. There’s good Mexican around here.”
“I have a little fridge.” He was just going to beat her with a stick. That was the only option. “I’ll make a list.”
“Okay.” Her phone beeped and she pushed a button, chuckling softly and texting back.
Marc waited impatiently. She just didn’t seem to be taking this seriously. Still. Texting? Sheesh.
“Sorry, BJ wanted to check on Granny.”
“BJ?” He had a little flare of something that might be jealousy in his chest, which he squashed. Why should he be jealous over her? He barely knew her.
“Yeah. An old friend that came to pick me up today.”
“Well, I’m glad you got a ride.” He wasn’t gritting his teeth. He wasn’t.
“Yeah, me too. That’s one hell of a walk in broken flip flops and scabbed up knees.”
“I said I was sorry. You had my cell.” What did she want? A healing spell for her poor little knobby fucking knees?
“I heard. What else do you want tonight?”
“I want you to tell me what you did, step by step. What happened the day Brigit fell ill, what happened today?”
“I was cleaning, we were talking about cleaning the front window display and Granny wanted me to leave this ugly squirrel thing. I helped this little girl with a protection spell when Hedda came in with this stupid mirror. After the girls left, I broke this glass mirror thing and made Granny mad and…and Hedda died.”
Shit. That sounded bad. “What did the mirror look like?”
“Little, dusty. Black. It was just glass; it didn’t have anything pretty on it.”
“Just a plain black circle? Do you still have the pieces?”
She shrugged. “Probably? I cleaned up this morning. Between that and Granny breaking things and the EMTs, it was all a wreck. I was scared someone would get hurt.”
“Well, someone else will, so poltergeist first.” He sighed, rolling his head on his neck. “This is a pure-D mess. I can’t believe you were left in charge of a repository of…”
“Sorry.” She stood up and even someone who wasn’t sensitive could read her upset. It poured from her. “Are we done?”
“Yes.” He stood, too, and grabbed her arm as gently as he could. This was important. “I need you to promise me, though, that you won’t go into the shop without me.”
“I won’t fuck anything else up. I won’t touch anything in there again.”
“Quit being such a baby. You’re so used to banking on your looks that you haven’t done your research.”
Her hand whipped out, the slap tingling his cheek. “You don’t know anything about me! I work hard. Twelve hours a day at the shop and then nights at the pottery studio. I’m not…I don’t use people!”
She tried to slap him again and he caught her hand, spinning her around so her tight ass was snuggled up to his crotch. Soft, perfect—she made him stupid with how beautiful she was, how amazing. “I never said you were a user. I said you needed training. Control.”
“Fucking typical man. Wanting control.” Her energy pushed him away, shoved at him like a physical being. Marc staggered, trying to keep his balance. He kept his hold on her, but not his feet. He stumbled into her, knocking her down on the bed, both of them bouncing.
“Hey!” She squeaked, pushing at him this time with her hands. “What are you doing?”
“Falling down.” He put a hand down on the mattress, trying to lever himself up, which pushed his crotch (which was still too erect for his own good) right into her. He groaned, she gasped, and the bed rocked. That, of course, was when her knee hit dangerously close to his nuts. “God damn it, woman! Would you hold still?”
“Leave me alone!” She shoved him hard. “You asshole!”
Marc cracked his head on the night table when he went sideways, seeing stars. He roared and pushed himself back up which slapped their chests together. “Fuck!” He pinned her down, defending himself from her flailing. She could hurt something important.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She screamed like a banshee.
“You!”
"Are you a moron? Let go of me!" Her hips rolled up against him, and her eyes went wide.
"Are you sure you want me to?" He could hear her, cursing him, admiring him, then, clear as a bell, he heard her mind moan, No, don't stop. Shocked and caught in the arousal she was feeding him, Marc stared down at her, with her tousled black hair and flushed face and her teary eyes and he did the only thing he could do with all the sexual need that was twining between them.
He kissed her.
She gasped, eyes huge, her lips hot and open and her flavor so sweet. Marc moaned, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Might as well be hanged for a wolf…
He felt her wrapping around him, drawing him closer, her latent magick flaring like fireworks behind his eyes. This was a damned bad idea. It sure felt good, though, and Marc started moving, rocking against her, his cock so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it.
Crazy.
This woman made him out of his mind crazy. He had no idea what it was about her.
Lily pulled back, staring at him. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you. You taste damned fine.” She was like heroin or something, a drug that he would never be able to resist.
“Did I say you could?” She leaned up, kissed him right back. Little Hellion. He pressed down against her, kissing her until he couldn’t breathe, until his head spun a little. He just couldn’t make himself let her go.
His fingers were splayed out across her back, keeping her close, keeping those curves snuggled up to his body. She wasn’t fighting to get away, though. She was trying to get closer, her fingers sliding into his hair.
Fuck, yes.
One of her legs wrapped around his hip, her body rubbing along his cock, her pussy hot enough to feel through two pairs of jeans. She was just on fire, needing him as much as he needed her. Marc unzipped her jeans, trying to get to her.
Insane. This was insane.
The scent of her made him shake, though, and the feel of her soft belly made his eyes cross. Sweet witch. He stroked her lower belly, then dipped under her panties, feeling the soft curls. He wanted her so bad he was clenching his teeth, trying not to moan. He pushed her tank tops up, fingers catching on her belly ring, teasing it a little bit, wanting to see what made her ache.
Lily gasped, arching under him, and he chuckled. That was a hot spot, then.
“Laughing at me.” She pinched him, hard enough to sting, her nails digging in.
The little shock of it maddened him, and Marc bent to nip at her lower lip. “No, just at the whole thing.”
“We shouldn’t do this. I’m not the type that does.”
“Shh.” He should stop, and he knew it, but she was clinging to him, stroking the nape of his neck, and his body wanted this. So bad. He wanted to know what she tasted like, if her nipples were tiny or thick, how she sounded when she came. So he kissed her again
, before she could say anything else, drowning their good sense.
He pushed her shirt up, fingers on her belly, baring her little lacy bra. It was pretty, but not as pretty as her breasts, which were not too big, but perfectly shaped. Her nipples were surprisingly dark, small and hard to his touch. He leaned down, let his tongue trace one peak, swirling around so she really felt it.
“You shouldn’t…” She moaned.
He looked up. He could smell her desire; he knew she wanted him. Hell, she was powerful enough to toss him across the room if she wanted to. He flicked the tip of her nipple with his tongue, teasing it. “Do you want me to stop?”
Her lips parted, making a pretty ‘o’.
He’d take that as a no. As a don’t stop. He sucked her nipple hard, using his tongue to press it against the roof of his mouth.
“Oh!” She arched, her body slapping against him, the rush of pure magick like a drug.
“Want you.” Marc wanted inside her. He wanted it so bad that he didn’t dare open his jeans without her go ahead.
“I don’t even like you.” Her hand cupped his cock, the heel of her hand maddening where it pressed against him.
“Give it time. I improve a lot on further acquaintance.” His hips rocked, getting more of her touch.
“Uh-huh.” Her fingers moved, nudging his balls.
Marc’s toes curled. “I need more.” He reached down, took her hand and moved her fingers to the tab of his zipper.
“Pushy.” She unzipped his jeans, her lips parting as he pushed her bra all the way off, taking one tight little nipple between his teeth. She tasted smoky, spicy. He wanted to lick every inch. Clearly he’d lost his mind.
“I—uh.” He couldn’t think when she found the head of his cock through his briefs, squeezing. He couldn’t do anything but love on her.
Those tight jeans were a bitch to pull down; thank goodness the flip flops weren’t a problem. She got his jeans down, too, tugging and grumbling, her nails scoring his calves. That made him cuss, grab her up and roll her under him, one of his thighs pushing between hers. She yanked at his shirt, damned near scalping him when she pulled it off over his head. It didn’t matter a bit when his chest rubbed her bare breasts.