Witchful Thinking (Jolie Wilkins #3)

by H. P. Mallory

  I screamed out in pleasure at the same time that I ground my heels into the bed and shot upward. Rand chuckled as he pulled me back toward him, holding my pelvis down to keep me in place.

  “Rand,” I whimpered. “I don’t know … how much more I can take.”

  He made a throaty sound and raised himself up, watching me with a smile of amusement as his fingers danced over me, teasing me ruthlessly. He continued holding my panties to the side as he ran his index finger down the length of me. I clamped my eyes shut.

  “When we bonded before,” he began and then slipped a finger inside me as I bucked up. He pulled his finger out of me again and chuckled.

  “You are evil,” I groaned out.

  He chuckled more deeply and buried his finger in me again. “At what point did you know it was happening?”

  I tried to remember, to force myself to focus when all I wanted to do was lose myself in the feeling of his fingers.

  “Jolie?”

  “Oh my God,” I muttered. “I really can’t think right now.”

  With another chuckle, he removed his fingers and slid my panties off, spreading my legs again as he settled himself between them. The head of his erection perched at my opening.

  “Are you able to think now?”

  I leaned on my elbows and glanced up at him. “Are you sure you aren’t a demon whose sole intention is to drive me to insanity?”

  “Quite sure,” he answered with the epitome of a demonic smile. “Answer the question.”

  I thought back, remembering the feel of Rand inside me, and the memory of our bonding rained down on me as if it had happened only yesterday. “We started bonding once you were …” I cleared my throat and felt myself blush. “Um, once you were in me. It happened right as we were both coming.”

  He didn’t respond right away so I glanced up at him to find him staring down at me, lovingly.

  “Don’t look away,” he said. Before I could question him he drove himself into me. Gasping at the feel of his invasion, I arched up and clenched my eyes shut.

  “No, look at me, Jolie.”

  I opened my eyes and focused on him. He was watching me like a hawk as he pulled out, only to push back into me again. I wrapped my legs around him and he pushed harder.

  And suddenly it was as if I’d been transported back in time, as if my Rand of 1878 was making love to me. That was when the beauty of the moment dawned on me. Rand loved me and I loved him—today, in the here and now. We were destined for each other and in a few moments’ time, we would be bonded again. I finally had the man I’d wanted for so long. Rand was mine, body and soul, and I’d kept my promise.

  I was surprised when something inside my throat constricted and tears started in my eyes. I couldn’t even control myself as they fell onto my pillow.

  “Jolie, am I hurting you?” Rand said and immediately stilled within me.

  I shook my head and held him to me, embraced him like I’d never held him before.

  “No,” I said. “I’m just so incredibly happy. I love you so much and now you’re actually mine.”

  Rand chuckled but lifted me into his arms, holding me tightly as he began pushing into me again. I gasped beneath him.

  “Yes, I am yours,” he whispered. “I love you, Jolie, and I promise to protect you forever.”

  I could feel myself growing wetter, hotter. I was going to come soon, I could feel it.

  “I’m close, Rand.”

  “That’s right,” he said between clenched teeth, and pushed into me with renewed zest.

  I arched up and threw my head back, screaming out as bliss captured me, transporting me to a place that defied words. Rand’s grasp on my shoulders tightened and I opened my eyes to find his firmly shut. With a groan, Rand thrust inside me once more and then collapsed against me, his chest rising and falling in time with my heart.

  I swallowed hard and wondered which one of us would bring up the obvious first.

  “I didn’t feel it,” Rand said as he kissed the side of my face. There was something in his eyes—surprise warring with disappointment and concern.

  I sighed. “I didn’t feel it either.”

  And then I was left wondering—wondering why we’d just had the best sex of my life, and yet we hadn’t bonded.

  JOURNAL ENTRY

  Wow, Diary, I don’t even really know what to say or where to begin. I guess I’m still reeling over the fact that for the first time in the last two years, well, really, for the first time since I met Rand, I don’t have this insatiable need burning inside me—this question constantly plaguing me about whether or not Rand loves me, whether or not we will be together—a plague of questions that used to drive me insane.

  Now my emotional seas are no longer turbulent—instead, they’re calm and peaceful.

  The man I’ve loved since the moment he first walked into my store loves me. The man I’ve dreamed about, the man I’ve lusted after, the man who has owned my heart … wants to be with me … forever. It’s a feeling that’s difficult to explain, a sense of absolute bliss, of complete and total happiness.

  Well, I guess I can’t go that far. There is one little thing that is bothering me and I know it bothers Rand too—that whole little sticking point about why we didn’t bond when we had sex last night. And I do have to admit, ahem, that after that first mind-blowing session, we stayed up for the rest of the night and did it five more times. Five more times! Can you even believe that? I guess I can’t call myself the Virgin Queen any longer …

  And as to Rand and his sex drive … I never really had any idea how completely insatiable my warlock is. He’s so funny, Diary, because he said he was just as sexually frustrated as I’d been over these last two years. Well, even more so, because at least I had that little session in 1878 to relieve me. Well, granted, Rand did too, but he couldn’t remember it and it had been over one hundred years ago for him. Of course, I’m not about to believe that poor Rand hasn’t gotten any in over one hundred years, but that’s not a thought that pleases me so I’ll move on …

  So back to this whole bonding deal (or not-bonding deal in our case …). As I mentioned earlier, we had sex a total of six times and still nothing. No fireworks, no blinding lights, no sudden unexplainable feelings, no random thoughts or words in my head … nothing. And I’ve been sitting here, at my desk in my room at Kinloch, wondering why. In fact, I can’t get any of this out of my head.

  I wonder if traveling out of 1878 and Rand nearly dying and Mathilda having to wipe me clear out of his brain somehow messed things up, somehow un-bonded us. And if it did un-bond us, could that bond ever exist again?

  I mean, really, not being able to bond shouldn’t matter that much. It’s not like Rand and I would stop loving each other just because we can’t bond. And furthermore, Rand said there wasn’t a requirement for witches to bond in order to be together forever and he was insistent on the fact that he and I were meant to be together and that he’d “be damned if not bonding would keep me away from the woman I love.”

  I have to admit I’m gushing over his words right now, gushing over the memories of last night. I’m like a silly girl with a high school crush. Hmmm … Jolie Balfour. That looks pretty freaking awesome …

  So I’ve decided to shelve the whole bonding issue for now. One of the life lessons I’ve learned is that when things defy explanation, it’s sometimes better just to set them aside and move on rather than dwell on them and drive yourself crazy. So, bonding situation, I’m leaving you and I’m moving on. I will not let you get in the way of my complete and total happiness regarding the fact that Rand Balfour is really mine. Finally.

  In other Jolie Wilkins thoughts of late, I’m nervous about Sinjin. That is to say, I know I have to tell him I’m with Rand—I simply won’t put up with his apparent jealousies or his constant flirty attentions. It wouldn’t be right or fair to Rand. Yes, there was a part of me and there still is a part of me that cares about Sinjin, and probably always will, but I’m not in lo
ve with him and I never have been. I wonder if I might have loved Sinjin if Rand had never been in the picture … but I’m not sure. Maybe I would have. Of course, that really doesn’t matter now.

  Nope, now I’m attached, spoken for, and I have to tell Sinjin as much. I just hope he takes it well, that it doesn’t completely destroy him. Regardless of his reaction, I absolutely have to tell him. In fact, when the sun sets, that will be my mission. I’ll tell Sinjin and then I’ll return to Pelham Manor this evening for bonding attempt number two. Ha ha ha.

  So, moving on to other topics, namely, my position as monarch of the Underworld, things seem to be at a standstill as far as the Lurkers go. Mercedes reported just this morning that our Lurker task force was still attempting to Lurker-nap one of them and that so far they’ve been unsuccessful. There also haven’t been any other attacks to report, thankfully.

  So, like that old Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald song, things are looking up. It is a great little world we live in, and that part about four-leaf clovers? Yep, that’s true too.

  I’m in love with a man who loves me, really, a man who adores me. I’m Queen of the Underworld and even though I was really never happy with my destiny, I can say I’m happy now. In fact I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

  Six hours later, the sun was saying its last goodbye before it retired for the evening and handed over the reins to the dark cloak of night. And my heartbeat increased as I prepared myself for the fact that I was going to have to do something that I knew would hurt Sinjin. I wasn’t sure at what level it would hurt him but I hated the idea nonetheless.

  Feeling like I had the weight of the Underworld on my shoulders, I left the safety of my bedroom and ventured downstairs, to the basement. I wasn’t sure if Sinjin was in his room or already out and about, but I figured his bedroom was a good place to start.

  I swallowed hard as I arrived at his door and taking a deep breath, knocked. There wasn’t an answer, so after another three seconds, I knocked again.

  “Looking for someone?”

  I turned around and faced Sinjin, who was leaning against the wall and regarding me with amusement—a raised brow and half smile. But even though he seemed his usual, flirty self, there seemed to be a harder edge just beneath the surface—a reminder that our last run-in had been less than friendly.

  “Uh, yeah, I’m looking for you actually,” I said with what I hoped was a warm smile, a smile that said our past argument was forgiven and forgotten.

  Sinjin nodded, but continued lounging casually against the wall as his gaze traveled down my body from my bust to my hips.

  “Why are you dressed up?” he asked.

  Due to the fact that I’d planned to see Rand this evening, I was wearing tight black pants and a fitted white angora sweater that ended just at my waist.

  “Um, I, uh, I’m going somewhere later,” I responded shakily.

  Sinjin’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. “I see.”

  I felt my heartbeat increase and I was sure it had everything to do with the fact that Sinjin was looking at me like I was a piece of prime rib.

  “Um, Sinjin, I … wanted to talk with you,” I started.

  He shrugged, his eyes still razor sharp. “Then talk.”

  I swallowed, glancing around myself. “Um, can we talk somewhere else? Somewhere a little more private?” I definitely didn’t want spectators if this whole situation erupted into something ugly.

  “We can discuss your concerns in my bedroom,” Sinjin said before a wicked smile overtook his lips. “Perhaps in my bed?” He stood up straight and took a few steps toward me. “Or perchance you would like to have this conversation while my face is buried in your lovely breasts?”

  I backed up. “Sinjin, stop talking like that.”

  He smiled but it was acidic. It suddenly dawned on me that he knew why I was here—he had to know. He’d never treated me so callously before. It was as if he’d given up on whatever hopes he’d harbored for us.

  “Like what, love?” he asked and strode past me, opening his bedroom door and disappearing inside. I looked down the hallway and, figuring that I didn’t want to get into an unpleasant conversation in the middle of my house, followed him, closing the door behind me.

  “As your Queen, I demand you treat me with respect,” I finished angrily.

  Sinjin chuckled, but the sound was icy. “As you wish, my monarch.”

  So he was going to play the game of “Sinjin’s being an asshole,” was he? Whatever. I had one thing to say and dammit all, I was going to get it out.

  “I came to tell you …,” I started.

  Sinjin suddenly closed his eyes and opened his mouth, lifting his nose into the air as if he’d caught a whiff of something and, judging by the expression on his face, it was a whiff of something incredibly … good.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as I witnessed the expression of ecstasy that was in the process of pasting itself all over his face. I wrapped my arms around myself.

  He opened his eyes and their usual ice blue had deepened into something darker, something passionate. “I can smell your desire, your need.”

  “Oh my God,” I said but the rest of the sentence fell off my tongue when he stood up and inhaled deeply again.

  “I have smelled you before, love, but never anything as heady as this, as intoxicating.” He took another four steps, erasing any distance between us, and I found myself instinctively retreating until my back and calves met the wall. But Sinjin continued coming and when he was directly in front me, he braced his palms against the wall, trapping me between them.

  “Keep away from me,” I whispered as fear began to snake through me.

  Sinjin smiled, his fangs cresting his lower lip. “Your blood is calling to me, poppet.”

  And then I suddenly wondered if he was picking up on my desire for Rand. I’d always known that vampires had an uncanny sense when it came to reading the emotions of their prey, and it appeared Sinjin was now reading my … lustful needs. What he hadn’t realized was that they weren’t intended for him.

  “Sinjin,” I started and pushed him away from me.

  “Let your fears go, love, I will not hurt you.” And he pushed his face into my neck, slamming his body into mine as I struggled to release myself.

  “Get away from me, Sinjin,” I spat out, but it was as if he hadn’t even heard me. “I’m in love with Rand, dammit!” I yelled finally, thinking it might be the only way to get him off me.

  In an instant Sinjin pulled away from me. He seemed to study me, almost as if he were debating over whether or not I was being truthful. His eyes were livid, riddled with angst, and his fangs were longer than I ever remembered them.

  “I … I came to tell you as much,” I said much more softly, my sentence an apology in itself. I dropped my gaze to the lush carpet so I wouldn’t have to witness the pain evident in Sinjin’s eyes.

  He pulled away from me. I glanced up to find that his fangs had retracted.

  “This is not news.”

  I nodded and smoothed my sweater and pants down even though they really didn’t need it. “Yes, I’m aware of that but if you’d allowed me to finish, I would have told you that …” I took a deep breath and raised my chin. “I would have told you that Rand loves me as well and that we are … now … together.”

  Sinjin merely nodded. There was no sign that my words had, in any way, upset him. Instead he just seemed casual—detached and indifferent.

  “Then your lust is for him?” he asked and swallowed hard, his eyes suddenly boring into mine.

  I didn’t say anything; simply nodded. Sinjin responded by raising a brow before turning away from me and starting for the door.

  “If that is all you came to tell me, please feel free to leave.”

  “Sinjin,” I said and started toward him. “I didn’t want to …”

  “No,” he answered and shook his head as if he didn’t want to hear any more. But he was
going to hear more. There was one more thing I had to tell him, one more subject I had to get out in the open.

  “I care about you, Sinjin, I’ve always cared about you.” I paused and glanced at the floor again, summoning up my courage, forcing the words to my tongue. I looked up at him again. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?” he asked and threw his head back, laughing as if I’d just told him the best joke he’d ever heard.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice betraying my confusion over his bizarre response.

  He stopped laughing and narrowed his gaze on mine. “You have not been paying attention, poppet.”

  “Paying attention?” I repeated. “Paying attention to what?”

  He shook his head like the joke was on me, like he’d just not only turned the tables but turned them upside down. “How many times did I tell you not to paint me with your ideals of who and what I should be?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand, Sinjin.”

  “That is quite apparent. It appears you never did.”

  I swallowed hard. “Sinjin, what the hell are you talking about?”

  His jaw tightened and he was quiet for a few seconds before he turned the full extent of his blazing eyes on me. “I am not hurt nor was I ever hurt by any of your actions.”

  I felt relief bubble up inside me. “Oh, I … I’m happy to hear that. I was just concerned that maybe I …”

  He chuckled and shook his head, as if to say he wasn’t finished. “You misunderstood me all along, it seems.”

  “Misunderstood what?” I asked again, starting to get irritated by his attitude.

  Sinjin glared at me. “In order for me to be hurt by your admission, that would require me to care about you—to have invested feelings and emotions into you, poppet. But what I have been alluding to all along, and what you have seemingly never understood, is that I do not form attachments to women, not even you.”

  I felt my stomach drop. Granted, I’d hoped not to hurt Sinjin, but I hadn’t considered the fact that he might hurt me. And the truth of the matter was that his words stung me to my core because I had cared about him and still did.