by J. Morgan
As much as I hated to do it, I ignored the swelling orgasm I felt at my core. Instead of giving in to it, I cursed my stupid luck and focused a portion of myself into the cheap plastic under my hand. A jolt of energy rocked through my arm. I recognized the groundswell and gathered the magic into myself. My arm burned from the intensity, but I held it, waiting for him to monkey-face. I didn't have to wait long. My senses blurred as I sensed Gregory stiffen inside me. Within seconds, his release filled me and I let the magic flow.
My own orgasm came seconds behind his. The combination of magic and sex exploded like a circuit blowing in my brain. A tidal wave of power coursed through my body, but it didn't stop with me. I looked down to see the necklace acting as a breaker between Gregory and me. Crackles of purple light sizzled, the air snapping and popping across our flesh.
I think I may have umphed a little more into the dang thing than I should have. Oops, my bad. Too late to worry about it now. Like I could if I wanted to! My third climax, in as many seconds, went rolling through me, eliminating any chance of my brain focusing on anything else at the moment.
The charm burned the palm of my hand. I tried to pull away, but it held my hand rooted to the spot. Gregory stared up at me, his eyes washed with fear-tinged bliss. My eyes reflected it back at him.
I'd never felt magic this strong in my life. Somebody should have mentioned back in school never to mix Sammy Hagar's best with impractical magic. Warning labels, people! Just about the time my eyeteeth started singing show tunes, the power surged back through me. The resulting backlash sent me slumping over Gregory, spent, in more ways than one.
"Did it work?” The question was hissed in my ear.
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure my eyes will stop rolling any time now.” I felt pretty pleased with myself, until I saw the confused look on his face. “Oh, you mean the charm."
"What else did you think I meant?” He shifted under me, unceremoniously throwing me to the side of the bed.
I scrambled to keep from falling off the bed, in as dignified a manner as I could. Not easy with a pith helmet perched on top of my head, but I managed it, and was still able to answer his question. “You felt the magic. Of course it worked."
That was the bad part. Something had worked. I'm not sure what exactly, but a strong dose of magic went into the old cereal toy. For all I knew, I could be handing him an actual, true, love charm. I doubted it, but still. More than likely, I'd created a run of the mill lust charm. He might get lucky—well, luckier than he just had—but I doubted more than that would happen. If you haven't figured it out yet, for all my talk, I'm not exactly all the hype would have led you to believe.
"Thank heavens. For a second I thought we'd been too late and the world was coming to an end.” He let out a sigh of relief.
And here I thought I'd been the only one who'd felt the earth move. “It was just the mojo kicking in on the charm."
"Can I have it, or do you need to tweak it some more?"
I handed him the charm, reluctantly letting it slip from my fingers. “Nope, it's ready to go. All you have to do is throw it around your neck. When you get up in the morning, focus your thoughts on finding the woman of your dreams and the charm will do the rest."
"I know we should cuddle or something, but, since it's like you said, a business arrangement, I really should be going.” He leapt from the bed, grabbing his clothes on the way, and headed through the door before I could open my mouth.
The slamming of the front door shook me from my shock at his abrupt exit. Emptiness settled over me. I'm sure it wasn't because he was gone. Using magic always left me feeling wonky. There was no way Gregory Hamilton could be affecting me like some girl with a crush. The whole reason I'd slept with him a second time was to get him out of my brain.
Now that I'd done it, he was so out of there. I barely even remembered all the tingly, naughty things we'd done to each other. By the time I woke up in a few hours, I would be realigned with the ley lines running under my house, my body would be back to normal, and Gregory would be out of my head. The sad thing was, I could almost lie to myself and believe a small part of myself was actually convinced of that.
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Chapter 13
Mornings suck! Usually I avoid the whole AM thing like a plague of rabid monkeys, dragging my butt from bed sometime after Days of our Lives has bit the dust. This morning, notice I said morning, and not a more consumer-friendly afternoon, my stomach was doing flip flops and wouldn't let me sleep. At first I thought it must be the hummus backing up on me. I had almost convinced myself of it. My reasoning would have worked if it wasn't for Gregory's face dancing through my fitful dreams all night.
Let's face facts. I had it bad for the guy. No fricking doubt about it. I slapped my legs to the floor, thoroughly disgusted by the current turn of events. My eyes weren't even open yet and today already looked like another shitty day. The tequila hangover didn't help one little bit.
"You aren't suffering from a hangover, my dear,” a decidedly feminine voice sliced into my brain.
Who the fuck was that, and what the hell were they doing in my bedroom at—I cracked one eye open to peek at my alarm clock—6:37. I could only assume it was in the AM. Morloque, who wakes up this damn early and isn't trying to open fire on someone?
I cracked the other eye open looking for my intruder. Once the room stopped blurring into shadows, I made out a shape sitting in my grandmother's chair against the wall. I hoped when the shape stopped spinning, I'd be able to tell who had the guts to invade my boudoir, but it would be nice if they'd just tell me themselves.
"Not to sound rude, but mind introducing yourself—or killing me and getting it over with?” I grumbled on my way to the bathroom. If mystery bitch thought she could barge in here, and find me to be a civil host, she had made a big-ass mistake. If she was lucky, I could manage a passable surly only after I'd had my morning pee, and not a minute before.
"I can see expending so much magic has affected you far worse than I feared, if you cannot even recognize me, the Vesperex of your domain."
I nearly slipped off the commode, and I'd barely gotten my butt down good enough to unclench. Melina was in my freaking bedroom. Here I was, taking a leak, and the woman trying to ruin my life sat in the next room. Maybe I should just crawl in and flush myself before I tinkled.
"Uh, Melina. Sorry, I had a rough night last night,” I yelled while trying to maintain some shred of dignity, the entire time wondering why I kept forgetting to buy toilet paper.
"The entire region knows what kind of night you had, silly girl.” The woman's laughter mocked me. It almost made me feel like my mother sat in the next room. “Any witch worth her salt knows to set up wards before mixing magic and sex. I had reports of spontaneous orgasms from as far away as Biloxi. Do you know the amount of paperwork something of that nature entails? Poor Elsbeth hasn't walked that funny in five hundred years. My poor Gabaroon had to be sedated this morning after the last one; otherwise he'd be the one here instead of me."
My heart broke for me. Not! Now where was that damn toilet paper? Sure, I wanted to hide in here until she left, but I didn't think she'd let me get away with it. Then I saw a dust bunny infected roll tucked under the edge of the vanity. I inched my big toe toward the cabinet until it was close enough to drag the squished roll over to me, while she ranted on about how much I needed to refrain from being a twit.
Blah, blah, blah.
I was on the damn pot! You'd think she'd have the common courtesy to wait until I finished before ripping me a new one. She was still going strong as I flushed, washed my hands and brushed my teeth. I figured I'd leave my hair natty, but drew the line at funk mouth. I took a last minute check for eye boogers before walking back into the bedroom to finish facing the music.
"And really dear, what would your mother say, if she found out you were up to the sexual mambo with a client when you're supposed to be making it so he's turned off the entire process?” I n
odded blankly, and sat on the edge of the bed across from her.
"I'm sure she'd say exactly what you've been telling me, Melina,” I answered demurely.
"Correct you are, because your mother and I are of the same school.” Yeah, old school. “Nichole, you are of an age to know that the mortal world is a harsh place, and to know how precarious our position is in it. The things you do reflect not only on you, but on us all."
"Then why do we go around being assholes?” She'd used my first name, which I hate and it really set me off. She would just have to deal with me being a smartass as a result.
"Because we have a reputation to think about. Cousin Frankie tried to make that good witch crap fly with that ridiculous book of his, but it doesn't, no matter how many times Ted Turner tries to make us watch the damn movie. My Aunt Glenda is still trying to live down the shame. The Baum name is ruined for all eternity, and now you're well on the way to making the Smythe name just as bad. Morloque knows we would all like to be daisies and butterflies, but the reality is witches are snakes, spiders and things that make your skin crawl. The minute you get that through your perky little head, the better off you'll be. Your Mitch of a father is to blame for your present condition. I told your mother she should have never let him within ten feet of you, but love has blinded many a bad witch to the truth staring them in their one good eye."
"Huh?” She'd caught me at a vulnerable moment, and it slipped out before I could stop myself.
"True love. For all the hype, it is the evilest magic ever conceived. Your mother could have been one of the greatest witches of our time if she hadn't fallen for your father. Now look at her. She is exiled to the wilds of the Bahamas, her daughter is a wastrel, and her husband is by all accounts a burgeoning golf pro at the local country club. Does any of that scream ‘witch’ to you?"
Now she thought she could get away with dissing my dad. It was too much to take before noon. “When you put it like that, I guess not."
"Exactly. Nichole, this is your last chance. Fail at this, and I see very little in your future that does not revolve around the use of a paper hat and a deep fryer.” A hint of glee shone in the old cow's eyes at the prospect.
"Melina, what do you want me to do?” The best thing to do was agree to whatever she wanted, and get her the hell out of my house before I went psycho on her ass for talking about my family.
"Stop having sex with this mortal for one thing. It will only lead to misery.” She pointed a gnarled finger at me. “Namely yours."
Okay, I can deal with that. I'd already come to the same conclusion myself.
"And, make sure he is a broken man by the end of tomorrow, or it's goodbye freedom, hello ‘Biggie Size that?’ I don't want Mr. Hamilton to ever, I repeat, ever, consider love with a mortal woman. Do we understand each other?"
Ouch! “What if I need more time?"
"This is a time-delicate situation. I think it's only fair to tell you Ms. Bonet's has a new crop of girls about to graduate. In the event you don't succeed, I need to be prepared to place one of them here, no later than Friday. With so many promising girls coming up, proper placement is vital,” Melina dismissed me with a flip of her wrist. “I even have one in mind, should you prove inadequate for the job."
Not only did she plan to ship me home, she already had my replacement lined up to kick me to the curb. How could my life be in any worse shape?
"By the way, did you know there is a family of pixies living in your microwave?” Melina rose from the chair, positively floating toward my bedroom door.
I was so relieved to see her leaving; it took everything I had not to grin from ear to ear as she sauntered through the door, in spite of her news that I'd somehow acquired new houseguests overnight. I waited for the swish of air marking her exit before moving from the bed. She must have been right about the magic hangover. My entire body ached, not my usual Cabo morning-after feeling, though even after brushing my teeth I could taste the worm in the bottle. With it, only my head hurt and my tongue itched. This morning the only thing that didn't itch was my tongue.
Running my hand through my hair, I let out a sigh of relief. At least she had left. My day could only get better from here. Catching my reflection in the full length mirror, it dawned on me that I'd just had an entire conversation with my de facto boss totally naked. Okay, consider my shame now complete. I might as well go greet the pixies and let the day go to total hell in a hand-basket.
I left the bedroom, throwing on my dressing gown as I did. Letting Melina see me in the all together was one thing, an appliance full of pixies was a totally different matter. They were all perverts down to their little glow-in-the-dark butts. Squeaky cat calls before my coffee did not sit well with my digestion, which wasn't working all that well to begin with this morning.
I stumbled past the microwave, hitting auto-defrost for the pure hell of it. I tuned out the screams, and went in search of something sugar-coated. Throwing open my pantry door, I discovered that, before taking up residence in my microwave, the pixies had replaced all my junk food with South Beach Diet alternatives. I was glad I nuked the bastards. My taste buds were yelling for Fruity Peebles and Frosted Flakes, not this junk.
Breakfast was out. Soy-flavored cardboard did not equate to my idea of food, if you hadn't guessed from the end of the last paragraph. I checked the coffee canister. They'd hit it too. The little snot heads. Now I had enough Tang to last me until the end of time. I debated on an early trip to Starbucks. Deciding that, from the way my day had started, the Apocalypse could well result from me stepping foot through my front door. I made for my couch instead.
After ten minutes of tossing and turning, I knew I couldn't even enjoy being lazy. The smell of Gregory covered the cushions, bringing memories of last night flooding back. Even though I knew I was crazy for doing it, I breathed in the richness of his scent, relishing the closeness to him it represented. I quickly pulled my head back, realizing how pathetic I'd truly become.
Sitting here pining for him had to be the worst idea in the world. Of course, sleeping with him a second time had been the ultimate bad idea. You didn't get men out of your head by sleeping with them. I should have known that. Stupid ideas like that didn't even work in the movies.
I was through deluding myself. Some part of me had formed some perverted attachment for Gregory. Not love! Witches did not fall in love willy nilly, thank you very much. A carnal lust thing was happening, nothing more. Okay, maybe I cared a little about him. I did care and that just made it worse. He was a great guy, and didn't deserve to be a pawn in Melina's game of wicked bitch of the South.
I could just stand up to the wench and tell her I wasn't doing her dirty work anymore. Yeah, like that shit was going to happen. I'd been spoiled by my own laziness. Quite frankly, I was ashamed of myself, so don't feel bad if you do, too. My first bout of guilt still didn't change the fact the end result would be that, no matter what I did, I would end up ruining Gregory's chances for ever believing in love.
If only I wasn't a witch. Things would be so much simpler if I'd been born a mere human. Witches weren't supposed to fall in lust. Yet here I was, doing exactly that. Humans never seemed to have this type of trouble. They were free to lust after whoever they wanted, and frequently did. Strange how being a member of a superior species didn't make things any easier.
Well, I could sit here all day wishing for a dream that could never be, or I could get proactive and do something constructive about the situation. I needed to forget my troubles, not dwell on them. No, I wasn't going to get drunk and pole dance at the local strip club. I'm not even sure we have a local strip club. I began to lose track of what's important. I needed to get the hell of my house before I went bonkers.
Instead of entertaining the male population, I was going with my earlier idea. Starbucks here I come! A day away from the house, a Green Tea Latte and, perhaps, a cheesecake lunch, sounded like just the ticket I needed to put some distance between me and this mess. As good as all this s
ounded I knew it was just sugar coating the harsh reality I wasn't ready to face.
For the first time in my life, I didn't want to feel wicked.
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Chapter 14
The last drag of my iced latte always tasted the best. I let all the whipped cream ooze down to the bottom of the cup so, with the last sip, I'm mainlining the good shit straight, with a hint of green tea to flavor it. Let me tell you, perfection every time. One day I'm going to find out what's in this stuff, and circumvent the thirty minute drive to sustain my habit.
I swished my straw around, trapping a stray glob or two of goodie before abandoning the cup for the second one I had stashed in the cooler sitting beside me on the park bench. Yes, before you get all nosy, there was a third one for the drive home. The cheesecake sitting beside it, though, begged to be devoured now. Putting the second Starbucks of the day down, I took out the plastic triangle holding my heaven.
Cracking the lid, the smell of caramel, nuts and chocolate sent my taste buds to watering. I'm sure there must be an actual piece of cheesecake under the mound of topping. My spork had been dying to discover just where it was to be found. I dug into the tip and dragged a healthy slab of the cheesecake away, making sure the chocolate-to-cake ratio was just right. Finally, sure the spork wouldn't collapse under the weight, I leaned back on the park bench, savoring the first bite.
Before you ask, the park had never been my normal hangout, but today, I wanted to be outside, well away from anything that might remind me of him. You know who I mean, so I'm not saying his name. To that end I ignored all the young lovers, smooching as they walked along the paths that twirled their way throughout the park. All I needed was my tea and this cheesecake to make me deliriously happy. I didn't believe that either.
By the last bite, I had almost convinced myself of the validity of my little white lie. Nothing helped a girl's outlook like cheesecake and chocolate. I was nearly back to my unnaturally perky self and ready to tackle a trip to the local gateway to Hell, i.e. department store, insert your favorite company logo here, for the essentials. Yes, I remembered the toilet paper. I made a list and everything. See, it's stuck to the bottom of my Starbucks cup.