Sean hopped up into the vehicle, shoving at Josh’s legs with a growl. “Move up.”
I turned back to face Marianne with a smile. “Well, this has been fun …hasn’t it?” I took a step closer to the garden wall. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
She gave no verbal response. Only fury coated her otherwise attractive features, and I found myself hoping I’d left no part of me in her house. Visions of voodoo dolls with pins stuck in their brains sprung to mind.
Unable to help myself, I mouthed, ‘Loser’ at her and climbed into the truck.
• • •
The second we left the witches’ house, Nathan wound down the truck windows, but no amount of fresh air could eliminate the smell.
Ethan faced forward in his seat, long, shallow breaths seeping past his lips. Nathan’s hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Sean sat with his free hand braced against the seat in front, his jeans in danger of ripping at the seams of his crotch. To his right, Josh made no effort whatsoever to hide his ever-increasing arousal, and he constantly peered over Sean’s well-placed arm until he practically hung off him like a chimp from a branch.
Nostrils twitched and flared. I thought the insufferable journey would never end, but the gates came into sight, and I unclipped my seat belt, hand on the door catch as Nathan swung onto the driveway. Before the pickup had even come to a standstill, I opened my door, hopped down and strode to the house.
Sean and Josh reached my back before I’d barely twisted the lock open on the front door. I shoved into the hallway, tossed the key to the table and leaped straight for the stairs.
Sean’s feet hit each step as mine left it.
“Jem!” Nathan shouted.
I’d only made it halfway, but I turned to look down at him.
From amidst the rest of the pack, all of them with their gazes lifted to me, Nathan stood with his hands on his hips. “I need to speak to you.”
I indicated with my head. “Come up.”
“No. Not the bedroom.” He stared hard, his jaw clenched. “In the living room.”
A small bubble of panic formed at the six huge men I just tried to escape, blocking my path. With a jerked nod, I descended—past Sean whose eyes followed me, past Ethan whose hands covered his nose as he turned away.
Two down, four to go.
Jaw tight, I lifted my arms to encompass my head and barged past the rest of them without stopping, ignoring the nose which attached itself to my shoulder.
I made it into the living room and walked to the farthest corner.
“Stay out!” Nathan boomed.
The door slammed shut. Nathan leaned against it for a few seconds, stiff arms braced. His loud inhalations came deep, shallow, deep again as though he attempted to regulate the amount of the scent he absorbed but failed.
I’d never seen Nathan so uncomposed.
He pushed up and moved to the other side of the room. When he turned, sweat coated his brow. The muscles of his tensed biceps strained against the sleeves of his shirt. With glistening eyes, he stared at me. “What did you do, Jem?” His voice, scarcely more than a growl, sounded even less controlled than he looked.
The second I opened my mouth, I’d be in big trouble. I remained mute.
Nathan growled as he rubbed his hands over his hair, across his face. He moved to the sofa and started to sit but straightened. He stared down at his crotch, back up to me. “What did you do, Jem?” He crossed to the window, chest rumbling as he fumbled with the catch. When he eventually got it open, he shoved the glass wide and stuck out his head.
“Shall I start at the beginning?”
“I don’t really care where you start as long as I get answers.”
“Okay …when I was outside, talking to Jess on the phone, one of witches placed red brick dust across the door . . .”
He twisted and grimaced over his shoulder. “What the hell for?”
“Because, according to Jess, if you sprinkle it at entrances, anybody who wishes to hurt you is restricted and can’t enter.”
Nathan’s expression remained unchanged.
“Jess was right. I couldn’t get in.”
“But …the door was wide open.”
I stared hard at him. “Yes, I know.”
He turned toward the outside, falling quiet for a moment. With a rub at his hair, he peered back. “So they didn’t want you in there with us?”
My head gave a single shake.
“But you got in.”
I shrugged. “I outwitted Marianne, managed to shift the dust so I could enter.”
He nodded. “Okay.” Another gulp of air from outside and he said, “So, why didn’t they want you in there?”
“We both know they never wanted me there from the start. I think they had plans for you.”
He turned back and fully faced the room. As soon as he did, his nose scrunched up, eyes darkening. He groaned, his clenched hand pointed at me. “You did something, didn’t you? You did something to us?”
“I—”
“Why do I have an almost uncontrollable urge to have sex with my son’s mate? Can you tell me that?”
“Well, I—”
“Tell me.” The rise and fall of his chest deepened as did his voice.
I took a step back. “Maybe you should move back to the window.”
“I don’t want to.” He let out a low snarl, tugging at his hair. “And I don’t know why.” As though at odds with what he wanted to do, he made his way back to the window in a two steps forward, one step back kind of fashion. At any other time, I’d have found it hilarious.
I waited until he’d reached his goal. “Listen, Nate. When I came into the dining room, it was clear the witches were up to something.”
He leaned his head out farther and twisted to peer at me through the glass to his right.
“Did you even notice how you all stared at them with hungry eyes? I figured out it was how they smelled that had you all interested,” I said. “So, when I went up to use the bathroom, I called Jess. She told me it was a kind of seduction potion used to make them irresistible. Her advice was for me to put some—”
“This is witch magic?” Nathan’s brows bunched to meet in the middle as his eyes narrowed.
I nodded.
“This—the way we’re all being toward you …this is witch magic?”
Another nod.
“But the witches didn’t have this effect on us.”
“That’s because I …kind of put too much on.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “A lot too much. I didn’t think I’d get this strong a reaction.”
“Didn’t Jess tell you how much to use, for goodness sake?”
“Yes …after I’d already painted myself in it.”
“If you wash it off, will it go away?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.”
“Then do it …before we decide we can’t contain ourselves any longer.” When I didn’t move fast enough, he snapped, “Shower, Jem! Now!”
• • •
A backward kick of my foot sent the bathroom door swinging, and I’d lifted the hem of my soiled T-shirt before it even slammed shut. Next, off came my jeans—underwear, too. I carried them all like something diseased, opened the bathroom window, and dropped them outside for later disposal.
Feet hit the stairs.
My head tilted.
The steps reached the landing.
I made the assumption that whoever had come up would head into one of the bedrooms.
One long stride became two. Three.
I spun.
According to Sean, there hadn’t been a lock on the door in years.
Four more strides and I’d be too late.
A fourth step—three to go.
“Shit!”
Two left.
I dived for the door.
As my hand grasped the inner handle, an invisible downward tug dragged it farther.
The door burst open.
I stumbled back.
Sean barged his way in. An echoing thunk filled the space on the door’s collision with the wall. One final step and Sean’s fingers folded around my wrist.
His arm snatched back, hauling me upright.
I expected him to check me over, ensure he hadn’t hurt me.
Instead, his hands gripped my hips.
My body flew through the air, too fast for my mind to register, and my back smacked against the tiled wall.
A small grunt burst out as Sean’s body crushed mine.
He ducked his head to my neck, attached his nose to where my increased pulse pumped the erotic scent to him in waves. “What the hell did you do?” The nearness of my flesh to his mouth distorted his mumbled words.
“It’s just a perfume. All I need to do is wash it off, and this will stop.”
His eyes bordered on black as he lifted his face and emitted a low growl. “No.” His hips pinning me, he leaned his shoulders far enough back to tug off his T-shirt.
When he pressed back against my nakedness, my pulse soared. “What you’re feeling right now isn’t real.” I took his face in my hands, lifting it to mine. “It’s a spell, Sean.”
His eyes closed. He swayed. His lids lifted as though in slow motion, and a smile spread across his lips.
My breath caught. He could not have looked hornier. The steady drum of my heart missed a few beats.
With a whispered, “Jem,” his mouth melded to mine.
I shouldn’t have responded, knew I shouldn’t, but couldn’t help myself. Sean’s lazy busses were excellent—his snogs awesome. Notch those up to his lust-induced, frantic, tongue-teasing kisses, and they rocketed way out into orbit. Add in his air of frustration with his mussed up hair, his glistening eyes, and I was his.
My lips parted. The dart of my tongue offered me a taste. I raised my legs and circled his hips, my pelvis pressing into his eagerness.
His chest pounded against my breasts. “A spell?”
I nodded—incapable of cohesive speech.
His lips linked back with mine.
A low groan of pleasure left me. I grasped onto his shoulders as my body arched into him, his sweat-coated flesh slick beneath my palms.
He pulled back. “What kind of spell?” His ragged voice matched the heave of his chest.
“A seduction spell,” I said. “It makes men lust after you, but I put too much on. That’s why I need to shower.”
My back skidded along the wall as Sean shuffled us toward the corner cubicle.
His gaze stayed on me, remained locked even as he reached out a hand to grope for the tap. He managed two whole seconds before his face reburied into my collarbone.
No longer only taking a sniff, his teeth scraped across my flesh, inducing quiet gasps from my lips.
As my fingers weaved into his hair, his oral visit evolved to small bites along the length of my shoulder; each sent a surge of heat to my groin, and a tilt of my head offered him more.
The music of water on glass told me Sean had turned on the shower—I’d been too lost in the pleasure of his teeth to notice—and he deposited me inside the cubicle.
I stepped back until beneath the spray.
As I reached for the door, Sean urged past it and joined me, both of us naked, both breathless.
“This—” He pointed at no particular part, but rather at all of my body. “This is powerful.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
A step forward brought him closer. His hands pressed to the glass above my shoulders, his body pushed mine back until the cold surface greeted my rear, and his mouth revisited my shoulder.
His teeth made bigger demands of my flesh.
I closed my eyes.
Deep feral grunts filled my ears.
My arousal added to the swirling aromas.
At a sharp pain, I cried out, my eyes shot open, and the unmistakable metallic tint of my blood united with those already present.
Sean lifted his head, sought my eyes with his.
I caught the crimson coating his lips before he slammed his lips against mine hard enough to bruise, and his fingers dug into my hips with enough force to mark.
As the release of his pheromones intermingled with the atmosphere, my own nostrils flared in greed to drink in his aroma of excitement.
With the urgent tugs of Sean’s hands, my body bowed, and my throat expelled his name on a whisper.
His teeth caught hold of my lip, cut through the delicate tissue.
Releasing a mewled cry, I clutched at his shoulders.
His face drew back. His wild eyes reconnected with my shoulder and the slow trickle that made its way down my arm.
Low rumbles resonated inside his chest as his face lowered. He licked over my bicep, one long fluid journey to the wound.
My fingers weaved into his hair. Shudders ran through his body, matching my own.
From my shoulder, he skimmed across to my neck. His mouth suckled and nibbled on the tender spot below my ear.
I tightened my hold, giving a long moan as my writhing body pushed into him.
The rumble in Sean’s chest built into a growl, the vibrations throbbing through me. With a snarl that echoed in my ear, his teeth circled the flesh coating my pulse.
I stiffened, bracing for the bite.
With my neck in his jaws, he stood rigid. His chest heaved. The clench of his fingers dug into me like clamps as guttural grunts escaped the corner of his mouth.
In an effort to remain still, I closed my eyes, tried to steady my chest. Sean and I stayed like that for seconds until his hands, mouth, body released me.
I opened my eyes.
Sean stood beneath the wide spray. The powerful jets pummelled his head and flattened his hair across his brow. Rivulets of water cascaded down his shoulders. His flexed arms showed every muscle, as did his legs, shoulders.
As my eyes roamed every part of him—from his intense, dark stare to his torso, powerful limbs, erection—my stomach tightened and moisture escaped to my thighs.
I took a step forward, stretching out a hand.
He shook his head, flecks of water hitting me.
Every nerve ending tingled for his touch. I reached again.
“Wash it off,” he growled through gritted teeth.
I frowned. “Sean?”
“Please, wash it off.” Each word arrived slow and measured. “I don’t feel in control of myself.”
“Baby—”
His eyes glistened. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
My mouth closed on further protest. “Pass me the soap.”
“I can’t.” The muscles worked along his jawline. “If I move, I might hurt you.”
“I have to come closer to reach the soap.”
He closed his eyes. If at all possible, his muscles strained further as though to ready himself.
I took a step forward, manoeuvred around him until my fingers found the shower gel and bath rose. “If I’m going to get this off, we need to trade places.”
I took his arm, steered him around me until the spray hit my shoulders and head. I kept my focus on him as I shampooed my hair, twice, scrubbed across every inch of flesh until my natural odour returned. The longer I washed, the less tension claimed his body.
When his eyes opened, moisture invaded them as they swept down to my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Sean, I—”
“I hurt you.” Pain consumed his eyes. He rubbed a hand acro
ss his sodden hair. “I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head, taking a step forward.
His arms came around me, and his body shuddered as his nose buried into my throat. “You smell like you again.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His hands hooked beneath my rear. A lift of my body brought my gaze to meet his. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“No,” I murmured.
As his face lowered, a tilt of my head allowed him in, and his tongue tended to the wound he’d inflicted.
My body trembled at his contact.
Once his tongue had done its job, his lips took over, their sweet caress a sharp contrast to his earlier passion. His feet shuffled until we met the tiled wall. His hands slid around to part my thighs and hook them around him. Beneath me, his arousal beat out his willingness as, eyes locked, we kissed.
His actions held only gentleness as though an attempt to eradicate his earlier lack of control. The feathering of his hands brought shivers forth whilst mine found solace in the texture of his hair, in the movement of muscle beneath my palms.
“I love you, Jem.”
“I know you do. Why else do you think I’m here?”
His deep chuckle hit my lips, and they curved in response. Enveloped within the strong hold of his arms, he lifted my body and lowered me onto him. Filled by him, my gasp arrived on a sigh. As though to prove his self-command—more to himself than me, I believed—he made sweet love to me with a tenderness that produced gasps and low cries.
14
A split second of silence followed my explanation to Sean’s dad and brother that night. “You did what?” Ethan asked.
“I doused myself in a perfume I found in one of the bedrooms,” I said for the second time. “In the hope of counteracting the effect they were having on you.”
“Counteracting?” He snarled, pushing to his feet. “Counteracting? Do you have any idea how much I wanted to—”
“Yes,” I cut in. “I picked up everyone’s feelings loud and clear.”
“Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in today?” he asked.
I flinched at his tone.
“If any of us had less control,”—he pointed from himself to me—“you would have been in serious trouble.”
Blue Moon Page 13