by BA Tortuga
As soon as she was done, he had her moving, tucked her under his arm. She was soft, warm, and she smelled good, and this was crazy, how much she affected him. It wasn’t the magick, though. It was just her: infuriating, beautiful, stubborn-as-a-bull Lily.
Damn. He eased her into his truck, kissing her softly as she murmured, fingers on his ink. “My lion.”
Oh, fuck. That hit him, balls deep. “Sleep.”
Things would be easier to deal with if she just rested.
Grinning, Marc started the truck, heading back to the hotel. He’d be a hell of a lot less likely to molest her if she was asleep, too. He probably shouldn’t be so disappointed by that.
* * * *
Lily dreamed about flying, about running, about Granny whispering in her ear.
Then, at some point she started dreaming about belly dancing while trying to stir a pot of chili and talk on the phone. That was when things got a little weird.
She woke up just as she started spinning plates on a pole, like the guy at the carnival. She woke up slowly, like swimming up out of deep water.
Someone was holding her, their bodies warm, leaning together, and she blinked, rubbing.
“Mmm.” The voice matched the body, big and rough, and it sounded pretty happy.
The fingers on her belly moved, strong enough to massage. She blinked down, staring at a hand sprinkled with bright red hairs. Freckles, too. It was a hard, square, male hand. Pretty.
Of course, she was pretty sure it didn’t belong on her belly, the long fingers petting her like they had a right to.
“Where else would it go when we’re spooning?” Marc asked, pushing against her a little.
“Hmm? Why are we spooning?” Why wasn’t she jumping up and hollering?
“Because you looked adorable when I got back from the grocery store, and I didn’t want to wake you.” He shifted, his whole body rubbing against hers. He was warm, heavy, and she felt like a cat, stretching against him.
“What time is it?” She shouldn’t be here. She should be with Granny or working or…something.
“Maybe two in the afternoon?” He didn’t seem worried about it at all. His hand slid up just under her breasts.
“I need to get up.” She didn’t want to. She wanted to push into that touch, feel it. Feel Marc.
Okay, Lilith, stop being stupid. She’d known him what, a day? Two? She didn’t even like him, did she? So why was she letting him touch her nipples, even if it was through her bra and shirt?
“They’re sweet and hard; I remember how they feel on my tongue.” His voice tickled, brushed against the back of her neck.
She flushed from the roots of her hair all the way down to said nipples. She could feel it under her skin, the blood rushing. God, he was something; he had to be magical.
“You’re magical, lady. Made from it.”
“Hush.”
“Why? It’s true.” He rolled her to her back, looming over her. He grabbed her hands, pulling them up over her head.
“What are you doing?” She blinked as her body stretched out under him.
“If you have to ask, honey, I’m doing something wrong.” He smiled just before he kissed her, his chest pressing her down into the mattress.
It was like lightning sliding down her spine, making her burn. Her hands flexed, her wrists turning against his hold. She couldn’t get loose, and her chest hitched, her legs squeezing together.
Marc groaned, and he ground down against her, letting her feel his prick, how hard he was, how thick he was. His body fascinated her.
Lily wanted to touch him, too, but he wouldn’t let up. He kissed her hard, his tongue pushing between her lips. The tiny bit of control he was keeping made her crazy. Her fingers curled, and she wrapped her legs around him, holding him right back.
“That’s it, honey.” He moved against her, his hips between her legs, his body rocking up and down, giving her friction.
“We can’t do this. We have work to do…” She moaned and her toes curled.
“We do. As long as you’re not in there, though, that ghost will stay calm.” He sounded so…reasonable. Especially for someone who was humping her like a naughty puppy.
“Like it’s my fault.” She bit his bottom lip.
“You’re a live wire, honey.” He pushed her hands down harder, which arched her back. They weren’t anywhere near naked, but she felt like she was on the verge of orgasm, his heat and need pushing her toward the edge.
“You let me up.” Oh, fuck. Hot. He made her ache.
“No, honey. Someone needs to teach you about control. Might as well be me.” He turned his head and nipped at her upper arm.
“Might as well be?” She grumbled, tugged at his hands. “Might as well be?”
Fucker. She arched and pushed with all she was, surprised when he moved, just a little bit. Her eyes went wide. There was no way she’d moved his big old self with her body. Right?
“That was pure power. Good girl.”
“What?”
He bit her throat, and she pushed again, a wave of pure need hitting her.
“God.” He rose up on his knees, using his free hand to pull at her shirt.
“We can’t do this.” Her belly sucked in, which pushed her breasts out like she was offering them to Marc, which she so wasn’t.
“Why not? I bought condoms at the store.” He was staring at her breasts like he was mesmerized.
“Pay attention!”
She gasped as he leaned down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples, the suction sudden and strong. Oh. Oh, he was paying attention. He was paying such good attention that she started to pant, her breath coming in hard gasps.
He worked her just a little harder than she was used to, pushing her higher than she let boys do. His lips tugged at her nipple, and his teeth closed around it, too, the sting almost too much to bear.
Not a boy. It was almost like he’d said it out loud. Almost.
She cried out, hands tugging at Marc’s grip, her body aching for more.
“So damned pretty. So hot. You’re burning me up.” He pushed between her legs, and they were both still wearing their jeans. But she could feel him, so hard.
“This is crazy…” She tried to find a place to rub where her clit got the friction it needed, but he kept shifting just as she found it.
“Definitely, but you’re going to learn to harness all this. To work with me. I’ll make you fly.” He finally just reached down between them and popped her jeans open, his fingers sliding against her skin.
“Please.” She needed a touch, something. Anything, as long as it made things better.
“I got you, honey.” He never let her hands go, though. He just used his free hand to push under her panties, his fingers rough and firm on her clit when he found it.
“Oh.” Oh, she forgot how to breathe, how to think. All she could do was pant and rock into that touch. Her thighs shook, as he touched her, tugging her until she couldn’t bear it, then circling over and over.
“Come on, honey. Come for me.”
Her heels dug into the mattress, her legs caught in her jeans. She burned, pure electricity crashing through her as he flicked her, pushing her over the edge.
“Fuck, yes.” Marc finally let her hands go, rising up on his knees to tear his jeans open.
Lily reached for him, as soon as his cock pushed free, filling her hands. Hot and thick, heavy and fat—she couldn’t help her moan. She held him tight, stroking him with long pulls, and she swore she could feel the pressure building in his body.
“Lady.” His eyes burned down at her, his face looking almost pained. “Oh, my lady.”
“Yours?” She pushed her thumbs across the slit of his cock, rubbing in the hot drops she found there. She wasn’t his, was she?
He growled deep in his chest, one hand going to work her too sensitive nipples, each tug making the rushing thoughts inside her so clear. “Mine. Mine, Lily.”
“Bullshit. I don’t…” No
way.
His fingers covered her lips. “Fuck. I swear, if I ever get inside you, I might just die.”
He gritted his teeth, fucking her hand until he cried out, his come spilling on her wrist.
Lily thought, as her lips parted, that if she ever let him in, she might be ruined for life, and that wasn’t going to happen.
She was already fucked.
Chapter Eight
Marc stared at the storefront, where the windows were breathing in the rapidly fading light. Literally breathing.
In. Out. In, out. The poltergeist was definitely waiting for them. Well, whatever it was that was acting as the disturbance was. The poltergeist agent, or emotional root of the problem, was clearly Lily.
The thing from the jar, though, had to be dealt with, even if Lily was egging it on. He eyed her sideways. She looked calm, which he chose to take as a good sign right now.
“Did you happen to notice the whole window thing, Marc?” Her eyes were twinkling, almost like she was amused instead of scared.
“I did. It’s kind of fun.” Usually, when he was working alone, he kind of enjoyed this stuff. He just needed to get his head back on.
“Fun. Okay, so we’re going to go in, capture a ghost, and not break anything else, right?”
“Absolute…” Her words trailed off as a teenager ran up to her, wrapped her in a hug. “Lily. Oh, thank you. It’s so much better now. I feel better. He’s leaving me alone. Your spell worked.”
Lily hugged the girl back, grinned. “Oh, Amy. Excellent.”
“Are…are you closed? I was going to buy some books. About Wicca. I need to learn stuff, so I can be like you.”
“Oh, I… Amy, I’m.” She started to flutter, that calm shattering.
Marc stepped in with a grin, trying to be charming. He’d been told he could be, even if Lily never brought it out in him. “We’re doing inventory tonight. Can you come back tomorrow? We’ll be open for business then.”
He let himself push her, just the littlest bit. Go on, little girl. This isn’t a game.
Thankfully, Amy just nodded, grinned. “I’ll bring Roxy, too. She’s off tomorrow.”
“I. Wow. We have to fix this, people are coming. Granny’s clients,” Lily said once the little girl had trotted off.
Marc met her eyes. “She sounded like your client, baby.”
“My…No, I. No…” Her eyes were on the window suddenly, curious, and her head tilted like a puppy’s. “Mikey? Mikey, are you in there? Are you okay?”
“Mikey?” Shit, if there was another person in there, they might have to change plans. It could really throw a wrench in.
“Don’t you see him? Right there?” She pointed into the store. The empty store.
“No, honey.” He pulled his sunglasses off and squinted harder. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Marc, he’s right there! Mikey!” She reached for her keys. “Bubba, what are you doing here? You should be at work.”
“No.” He grabbed her wrist in a hard grip. “No, it’s trying to trick you.”
“Marc, Mikey could get hurt in there.” She met his eyes. “He’s got Down’s Syndrome. He’s a good man.”
“I won’t let anyone get hurt.” He squeezed her hand before letting her go. “Just stay put. Trust me.”
He unlocked the door, headed in, the air unnaturally still. There wasn’t a single person in the place—not Lily’s brother, nothing.
He was relieved, actually. Now all he had to do was perform the ritual. If he could convince Lily that the ghost was back in the jar, the hard-core poltergeist activity that was really her budding psychic abilities ought to shut down. There was no way that ghost was causing this much damage on its own without feeding off her.
Marc cast a quick circle—silver, salt, and sage—it wouldn’t stop anything major, but it would stop this…
“Marc? Marc, are you okay?” Lily’s head peeked around the door.
A plate flew across the room and damned near hit her in the face. Marc whirled around, roaring. “He’s not here, goddamn it. Get your ass outside!”
“You’re in here, though!” She stepped in, ducking as a glass squirrel smashed against the wall. “Behind you, Marc! It’s behind you.”
“Lily! Stop.” He put as much compulsion behind the word as he could. She just needed to be still.
Her feet stopped, and she blinked. “It’s behind you.”
Marc turned, his hand clutched around the pot he’d grabbed on the way in the door.
The black fuzz was right there, like it had picked up the dust from the floor. It wasn’t looking at him at all, it was looking at Lily.
He did the only thing he could do. He started the ritual. Herbs. Words. Jar. It could be a little salsa dance. One, two, cha cha cha.
The ghost growled, headed for Lily, who was standing there, eyes wide.
Shit, that thing was huge. It was like it was gaining power every second, gathering itself. Salt. He got the salt bag open, tossing some on his shoes.
“Lily, come to the back. Let me tell you about all the jars, about your family.”
Wait. Poltergeists spirits didn’t talk. This thing was much more dangerous.
Lily took a step closer.
“That’s right.”
He grabbed a handful of angelica and fennel seeds, tossed them toward Lily, between her and the ghost. Lily shook her head, blinked like she’d been asleep. “Marc?”
“Get out of the shop, Lily. Through the front. Now.” He didn’t shout, and it seemed to help get through to her.
“Okay. Okay.” She turned and the ghost screamed, rushing toward her and Lily grabbed a cane from a pottery container, spun, and sliced the ghost in half. “Leave me alone!”
The dust swirled furiously, and she beat at it, wild. She looked like a dervish.
Oh, fuck a duck. Her arms were bleeding from a hundred little cuts, and the stick was damned well going to come back and hit her in the head if he didn’t stop her. Now.
The ghost was backing off, though, backing toward him. And the jar. That was it. Come to papa. Marc moved forward, the jar ready to seal, the silver ring right there.
“You back the fuck off! Come here, try and scare me!” Lily was fierce. It was the hottest thing ever. It was also dangerous as hell.
Marc didn’t even breathe when the thing hit the last line of salt he’d put out. The ghost howled and Marc slammed the jar into the mass of dust, his skin stinging, burning as the sigils he’d drawn inside the jar sucked the ghost in.
He sealed the lid as soon as the last speck of dust was sucked in, screwing down the silver ring. He’d put the wax seal in place and that would solve one problem.
Lily stared at him, power crackling around her like lightning, her hair actually sparking. Christ. She was like a Tesla coil or something. He blinked, shaking off the sudden surge of arousal. There was no time for that now.
“I think we got it.”
“Good. Good, did I help?”
“You did.” She’s also ignored a direct order, which had put her directly in the line of fire. “Let me put this away.” He wasn’t going to scream at her like a maniac. He wasn’t. He was calm. Composed.
“Okay.” She looked around. “Watch all the glass. It’s everywhere.”
Yes, including slicing at her arms, her neck, even near her face.
A single bead of blood slid down her cheek from a cut on her temple. Pressure built in his chest like an out of control tea kettle. Marc lost it.
“What were you thinking? I fucking told you to stay out of the store. You could have been sliced to ribbons!”
“That thing was coming to get you. I was helping!”
“I needed you to stay outside.” He set the jar down on the big desk and advanced on her, his hands clenching and unclenching. “I need you to listen to me or this is never going to work.”
“So I’m just supposed to let some weird monster hurt you? Bullshit. It’s tearing everything up.” The shards around her
feet started to vibrate.
“Stop it.” He grabbed her shoulders and hauled him up against his chest. “Just stop.”
“Stop what? I was worried about you, you bastard!”
“I swear to God, some day you’re going to get one of us killed.” Marc couldn’t bear the thought of this brave, crazy, beautiful woman being injured. He couldn’t stand the mixture of hurt and fury in her eyes, either, so he kissed her. Hard. Just so he wouldn’t have to see it.
She moaned, pure energy spinning around them. He was going to have to watch that, or she was going to make every magickal thing within five hundred miles come hunting her.
He picked her up, trying to decide where the hell to go with her. The back room of the shop was too damned dangerous, and he’d parked out front, which might be bad if anyone saw him hauling her out. Damn it, he wasn’t very smart.
“What are you doing?” Her leg slid up his leg, knee nudging his balls.
He jumped and almost dropped her. “I need you. Now.”
“We’re in the store.” Like he didn’t remember where they were.
“I know that.” There had to be somewhere. Maybe over in the front corner, where no one could see them through the windows.
Her knee nudged him again, and she nipped his bottom lip. “You make me crazy.”
“I know the feeling.” He walked her to the wall, figuring the little bit of blank space there made for the shape of her body. “I ought to tan your hide. Have I mentioned how frequently I have the urge?”
“Never going to happen. Never.”
He was aching, wanting to be buried deep inside her, his cock as hard as he could ever remember it being. God, they would make amazing sex magick together, if he ever had a chance to prepare for it. “You don’t know, honey. You might like it. You might fly.”
Marc got his hand on her ass; his palm covered most of it.
“No. No one beats me and lives to tell about it.” She popped his ass, the sting sharp enough to make him groan.
He pinched hers, right where her thigh met her butt. She needed to feel it, too.
“Stop it.” She pinched his nipple this time.