Jasper clenched his jaw. “What do you mean to do, Father?”
“As you know, the succession must skip a generation, leaving you and your sister unable to inherit my role as head.”
Cassandra sat up straighter. Everyone knew what was going to happen. This was hers. She had been training for it her entire life. And now she was about to watch all that training pay off.
Julia leaned back, knowing she wouldn’t be the star of this show. And feeling just fine about that.
“You’re going to name your successor today?” Cassandra asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“I am,” Grandfather said. “And I want it to be Julia.”
Julia opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. This was insane. She just got back. She hadn’t even been around for the last year and a half and had no idea what the political landscape was like. She didn’t have the training, and what was more, she didn’t care.
This whole ‘us vs them’ thing with the Blackwoods had always struck her as more than a little petty. The way she saw it, she hadn’t started this feud, and she didn’t want any part of it. Especially when it meant going against Roman.
Turned out she didn’t need to speak though, because before she could form a coherent sentence, Cassandra was expressing opinions of her own.
She stood, scowling, her face far from the mask of composure Julia was used to. “You can’t be serious!”
This sort of insolence didn’t sit well with Grandfather. Julia could tell from the look on his face and the fact that the table began turning a tick or two quicker.
“Does this strike you as the sort of thing I might be inclined to joke about, Cassandra?” he asked with fervent eyes.
One might think her reaction would be hurtful. She was, after all, insinuating that Julia wasn’t good enough to take the reins of the family business.
But she wasn’t wrong.
Cassandra had lived her entire life in pursuit of this goal. Sleepless nights, long evenings, more practice than Julia had ever dreamed imaginable; it all added up to one thing: Cassandra was the right person for this job.
Julia stood, though her posture was far less confrontational than Cassandra’s. Gently, she offered, “Under normal circumstances, I would never question your decision making, Grandfather. But we’re in a tumultuous time. You said so yourself. Why would you choose me, a witch with less training and, frankly, less focus than your other option?”
“Precisely because we live in such a time, Julia,” he answered. “The Blackwoods are mobilizing their forces. Word on the street is that their eldest son is even training in the dark magic of their ancestors.”
“What?” Her heart dropped, but she bit back the pain, trying not to betray how much she really cared about this. “Roman is practicing dark magic?”
Grandfather glared at her. She shouldn’t have used his given name. That implied at least some level of intimacy. Still, what could she do? Dark magic was the most dangerous energy in the entire world. Even those practiced in it could find themselves killed by the smallest misuse.
The idea that Roman was putting himself at that sort of risk was enough to make her sick.
“I mean, is he the oldest?” she added, trying to cover her tracks.
“I believe so,” Grandfather said, eyes still narrowed. “And it’s more than a little troubling. The Blackwoods earned their name on death, destruction, and the anguish of others, primarily through the use of dark magic. If that is successfully reintroduced into their lineage, then we’ll need an equally potent rebuttal.” He looked at Julia. “You’ve always been a natural, Julia. The ancestors themselves even think so.”
“The ancestors mumble. They could be saying anything. They could be telling me to tell you to pick Cassandra. Hell, they probably are. She’s infinitely more qualified than me.”
“Qualifications aren’t the only things that matter,” he shot back, his face tight.
“What about me?” Julia asked, her voice breaking. “What about what I want? Does that matter?” She took a deep breath. “When I was a little girl, you told me that I could be whatever I wanted. You said that I was born to be happy. What’s the use in having these abilities if you can’t use them to live the life you want? That’s what you told me.”
“I remember what I said, Julia. But times are different now.”
“I don’t want this, Grandfather.” Julia’s throat pinched with tears. “I know you think I’m strong enough, and maybe the ancestors do, too. But I’m not. You saw what happened to me last year. You watched me…fall apart.” She blinked away the stinging in her eyes. “I never thought I would be happy again after that, but I was. It took a while, but I finally came to be at peace with who I was, with what I had done. I know this might be disappointing to hear, and goddess knows it’s certainly disappointing to say. But I’m not right for this. And I don’t want to be.”
He looked at her for a long moment before finally sitting back down. “If that is your wish, then I will comply with it.”
Julia looked over at Cassandra, who was still scowling now, but had resigned back to sitting. At least there would be a person at the helm who wouldn’t drive the entire coven into the ground.
“But you will stay here long enough to ensure the transition of power goes smoothly after my death,” Grandfather continued. “Personal wants aside, family business must be taken care of of above all things. It is our way, and we must abide by that.”
“Yes, sir,” Julia answered, sitting herself.
The rest of the meeting went on about property lines, magical supplies, and various importing. But Julia couldn’t focus on any of that.
All she could think about was Roman. If he really was putting himself in danger, she needed to see him. And she needed to do it now.
4
Roman
Roman splashed his face with cold water and, when that didn’t work, finally just ran his whole damn head under the sink.
Tapping into that dark stuff always took it out of him, ever since the first time Dad forced it on him. The vodka probably didn’t help things, either.
His head was spinning, his body hurt, and more than that, his heart felt like it was about to pack up and move out.
And he knew why. It had nothing to do with dark magic and dry liquor and everything to do with a girl.
God, that sounded pathetic, like he was some lovesick high school freshman and not one of the most sought after adult men in whole freaking state.
He was Roman Blackwood. He was the badass warlock of Savannah. And even if he hadn’t been, he was still rich, sexy as hell, and better in bed than Egyptian cotton. So why the hell was he thinking about her so much?
His phone rang. He didn’t even need to look at it to know who it was. It was 2:30 in the morning on a Saturday. It could only be one person.
“Meredith,” he said, answering the phone and taking another swig of vodka. If he was gonna feel like crap, at least he could be drunk for it. “What’s up, sexy?”
She purred on the other end, and he could practically see her there. She was sitting in her room, red hair and black lace as she had been roughly once a month for the last year or so.
His mortal booty call. What could he say? He was a weak man.
Like every weekend for the last two months, she hemmed and hawed her way into asking him to come over.
More times than not, he said yes. After all, what did he have to lose?
But tonight was different. He didn’t feel like the drive across town. He didn’t feel like making small talk long enough for Meredith to pretend that what they were doing was more than sex. And, as crazy as it sounded, he didn’t feel like sex. At least not with her.
“Maybe next time, babe,” he said and hung up before she could answer.
Tossing his phone on the counter, he thought about the night, and all the nights that had led up to it.
He should have been living in the Blackwood mansion. That’s where Adam and t
he rest of the family were. But he had never been like the rest of the family and, more than that, he wanted his own space.
This damn apartment was supposed to be a new beginning. After all, he bought it for her, because she liked the view.
But she left, it ended, and now this place was a prison—a reminder of what he didn’t have, of what he would never have.
The doorbell rang, and he bristled.
“Who the hell?” he asked, killing the last of the vodka and walking to answer the door, not bothering to put a shirt on.
“If this is pizza, I’m not interested,” he said, pulling the door open.
His jaw tensed when he saw her. For the second time in a day, after a year and half of no contact, he was looking at Julia Fairweather. He wanted to scoop her into his arms. That feeling never really went away. Of course, he knew better than that.
“What the hell do you want?” he asked before he could stop myself.
She pushed him away before. It wouldn’t happen again.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she said, looking up at me with those eyes…those eyes that he had never been able to look at without having his defenses wilt like a goddamn flower.
But not tonight. Not anymore.
“It’s a big city, Fairweather. None of us have to be alone unless we want to.” He winked. “Trust me on that.”
All right. That was mean, but fuck it. Like a coward, she had left him. And when she finally came back, without so much as a call, she treated him like he didn’t matter.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe that was the thing. He was her Meredith.
She blinked and looked down. “I just wanted to see you,” she said in a small voice.
“That’s rich,” he said, leaning back against the wall. “Am I wrong, or did you not just tell me to stay the hell away from you?”
She looked back up at him, and he wanted so much to grab her again, to kiss her and tell her how hard it had been not knowing where she was or if she was okay. But more than that, he didn’t want to be the pathetic person he felt like for wanting that. And he sure as hell didn’t want her to know he wanted it.
“It’s been a hard night,” she answered.
“It’s been a hard year,” he said. “But I’ve been getting through it.”
“About that,” she answered. “There’s a reason I’m here.”
“I bet,” he answered, moving closer to her. If he was her Meredith, he might as well get the perks out of it. “Why don’t you come inside?”
“I can’t.” She looked down again. “Actually, maybe I should come in. This is probably better done away from prying eyes.”
“That depends on your kink, I guess,” he answered, intentionally being crude.
She didn’t answer. Following him into the living room, she said, “The place looks nice.”
“Yeah… I made some changes.” He turned to her. “Got rid of some stuff.”
“I figured you’d have moved back home after I left. You know, for your safety.”
“I can take care of myself, Juju,” he answered, moving closer to her. “Besides, this whole place is lined with Himalayan salt and lilac petal. No magic works here.” He wiggled his fingers. “Except my own.” He put his palm against her stomach, mimicking the way she shocked him away from kissing her.
“Yeah,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Is that what you wanted to do, Juju?” he asked, looping his fingers into the belt loops of her jeans and pulling her against his bare chest. “Did you come here to talk?”
“Don’t call me that.” She looked up at me with those eyes again.
“You never used to mind before,” he said, staring down at her with parted lips. “In fact, if I remember correctly, you used to like it.” He moved his fingers from her belt loops and slid his right hand under the bottom of her shirt, tracing the area above her hip. “I remember you liking a lot of stuff.”
“Roman, we can’t,” she said, but there was no mistaking the want in her voice. It was as familiar as it was enticing, as intoxicating as it was mutual.
“We can,” he said, his hands settling on her hips and tugging at the line of her panties. “And we’re going to.”
He pulled higher closer and pressed his lips against hers. Like before, the world lit up. She rose against my chest, her breasts pressing against his bare skin, her nipples stiffening under her shirt. Even with all the alchol pumping through his system, his cock still stirred.
Damn, he had missed this. Missed the taste of her. The feel of her, as though she was sculpted just for his pleasure.
She pulled away opened her mouth, but she wasn’t going to use it for talking. He was going to make sure of that.
I lifted her into my arms, bracing her ass and pushing her up against the wall. She arched her back and moaned, making me instantly hard.
Her feet knotted together behind his back, and he pushed at her harder, his cock rubbing between her legs, over her pants.
“Stay right there,” he muttered, backing away from her.
Magic was great. Magic during sex was the best.
His spell kept her in place, pressed against the wall, lifted into the air, and completely helpless to whatever he wanted to do to her. And more than anything, he wanted to punish her for pushing him away. For leaving him earlier today, for leaving him all those years ago.
She would beg for him now.
She breathed hard, her perfect breasts lifting and falling in rhythmic delight.
Roman twitched his finger, and the top button of her shirt flew off. She gasped at first, but when she looked down at what had happened, she couldn’t hide that fiery blush. She wanted this every bit as much as he did. And he was going to make sure she knew it.
He twitched my finger again, and the bottom button flew off. Another twitch for the top, and then again for the bottom. The last twitch opened her shirt fully, revealing her delicate breasts.
He thought he was going to burst as he looked at her, helpless, panting, and soaking wet with anticipation. Those lips, those breasts, that gorgeous mound between her legs…he could do whatever he wanted with them. She wouldn’t stop him this time. Earlier she’d pushed him away because she knew she could not resist, but this time…it was too late. He already had her at the edge, and Julia never stepped back from the edge.
He twitched his finger again, and every stich she was still wearing ripped off and fell in tattered shreds to the floor.
He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down and revealing himself to her. He grinned as her blush deepened, as her breathing shifter heavier, as her gaze settled on his shaft.
With another twitch of his finger, the magic forced her legs apart. He moved his fingers in the air, making her moan. He was connected with her now, so connected that he could make her feel him from where he stood.
“Not like this,” she said, pleading.
He grinned, remembering how much she “hated” when he teased her this way. “It’s embarrassing,” she would say.
“Not like this?” he repeated, continuing to tease her. “I thought you liked the distance between us.”
“Roman—”
“Sorry, love. My house, my magic, my rules.”
His fingers moved in the air, pushing the sensation deep inside of her. Three fingers worth—almost enough to mimic the width of his cock. Enough to remind her of what he could do to her in the bedroom.
Her wet walls squeezed around his fingers, clenching even tighter as she trembled with pleasure.
Enough to remind him of what she could to him as well. But he wasn’t going to let her know that.
She mumbled something under her breath.
“What did you say?” he asked, glaring up at her. “Juju.”
“Take me,” she repeated. “Take me right now.”
Her body glistened with sweat in the moonlight. Her breast, her pussy, her lips, her legs… He wanted them all, and he wanted them forever. But he would settle for toni
ght.
“Take you how, Juju?”
“Roman, please.”
“Please what?”
Her bottom lip trembled. He knew she hated this, which was exactly why she fucking loved it. “Fuck me,” she whispered.
Good girl.
He strolled over to her, letting his cock rub against the opening of her pussy. He pressed against her enough for his head to create pressure against that tight little entrance. “What do you want, Juju?”
She whimpered.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her earlobe, his voice a low growl when he whispered. “Say it. Now, Julia. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you…inside of me.”
Perfect. Then they wanted the same thing—but as long as she’d been the one to beg for it, he wouldn’t have to feel bad about giving a pounding that she’d had coming to her for over a year and a half now.
He nudged himself deeper, grinning as her body resisted it. She was tight. The way she got when it’d been too long. Which could only mean one thing: she hadn’t been with another man since she left.
She still loved him.
Roman went easy on her only for a moment, but then he drove his cock into her, freeing her from the magic and letting her weight fall against him. He wanted to feel her. All of her. And he wanted her to know that what she was feeling was one hundred perfect.
As she wrapped herself around him again, a sweat covered and glistening mess of passion and panting, he turned. Moving toward the bedroom, he forced the door open. He kissed, then bit her lip just hard enough to let her know he meant business.
And then he tossed her onto the mattress, flipped her over, and spanked her hard, kissing the back of her neck before working himself back inside of her. She was as tight and eager as ever as she arched against his thrusting. The mattress muffled her moans as he held her still by her hair, grinding into her from behind, his hips slapping against her perfect ass.
There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he wasn’t sure she wanted that. And he wasn’t about to put himself out there, to risk his heart saying how he felt. So instead, I gave her what she did want.
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 4