Sins of Long Ago

by Naomi Bellina

  “Do you talk to them, see them at all now?”

  “Some. Your turn. Do witches celebrate Thanksgiving?”

  “Most do. My family…not so much. Since we don’t have traditional marriages, the women would bring their boyfriends to dinner at one house or another. The partners changed every year. If someone wanted to cook, they did; sometimes we got Chinese takeout or pizza. As I got older, we had fewer of those meals. We moved to different areas of the country, and of course there were the women who ended up…badly. Now, the few relatives I have left, we call each other, sometimes. Thanksgiving, Christmas, not a big deal.”

  As a child, she remembered watching the holiday specials on television and longing for a real family. She couldn’t understand why hers was so different. After her mother told her about the curse, it made more sense, but it didn’t make it any easier to know she would never have that special feeling of being surrounded by the warmth of loved ones.

  “As soon as I was a little older, Mom started her Screw the Holiday trips with the other women in the family. I went once, but it’s not especially festive hanging out with a bunch of drunk women in a casino or bar.”

  This was the first time in a long while she’d told anyone details about her family. When the subject came up, she usually said she didn’t have any people in the area and left it at that. Her fellow witch friends knew about the curse. She had an open invitation to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with several of them, but she always declined. Nowadays, she didn’t celebrate the two winter holidays. It was nice to have the extra business, fun to listen to the joyful music, and look at the colorful light displays, but other than performing a quiet Solstice ritual, she didn’t engage in any special activities.

  Watching Vincent over the rim of her mug, she remembered why she didn’t share her family story with others and almost regretted doing so now.

  “You can wipe that look off your face. I don’t need sympathy. My life has been fine the way it is, and there are a whole lot of people out there with worse stories than mine. Like yours maybe? Care to elaborate on the uncle biting incident?”

  “I wasn’t giving you sympathy. I just…”

  Anna set their food on the table and hurried off. The restaurant had filled up.

  “We’ll take our check whenever you can get it to us,” Vincent called after her. “We’re going to have to eat and run if we want to get on those back roads and get out of here.”

  More tapping on the phone. Gen dug in to her dinner. Stress really didn’t affect her appetite, and it had been a while since breakfast. Vincent ate and viewed his phone at the same time. So much for pleasant dinner conversation.

  “We got a problem. Bad weather headed our way. In fact—” He looked out the window. “—it’s already here.”

  Gen peered out at the parking lot, now slick with rain becoming more solid as she watched.

  “Snow, ice. Shit. Those back roads are going to be a mess anyway with the extra traffic. Add some slickness to them, no way we’re getting anywhere fast. I’m going to book us a hotel for the night.” Fingers on the phone again.

  “Wait. We’re going to stay here? I thought you said Kern would be after us.”

  “He won’t find us this quick, especially not with the roads jammed. I’ll use one of my alias names for the room and hide the Jeep.”

  “I can’t stay here.”

  “Why not? You afraid to be alone in a hotel room with me? I’ll get two beds.”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  Vincent bent his head to his phone. “Then what is it?”

  “I’ve got to be at work tomorrow.”

  “We’ll get up early, get you back on time. It will take us hours to get home tonight, and it’s too dangerous to travel if we don’t have to. You said you weren’t opening early, and you have an assistant, right? Have her open for you if you’re not there on time.”

  “Stop telling me what to do.”

  Vincent paused and looked at her. “I’m not telling you what to do. I am telling you, the roads are dangerous, and we could very likely get into a serious accident, with all these crazy people sliding around, on the ice, in the dark. There’s absolutely no reason for us to leave until the highway is reopened, and I don’t intend to spend the night in Denny’s. I’m tired and so are you, judging by those circles under your eyes.”

  “I do not have circles under my eyes.”

  “Whatever. Listen, we’ve both just been through a pretty rough time. I need to rest. We don’t have to stay all night. As soon as the road is clear, we’ll go. You planned to spend the night with me anyway. Didn’t I see you put a suitcase in the back of my Jeep?”

  “Yeah, but that was before…”

  “Before what?”

  “Before I knew a lunatic lurked nearby, doing experiments on people.”

  “That lunatic is likely stuck somewhere, just like us, with his pissed-off wife. Can we get a to-go box? And throw in an extra piece of pumpkin pie,” he called to Anna as she flew past their table. “Looks like there’s only one hotel in this area. I’m calling now to get a room. These other travelers might get the same idea.”

  “Fine. I’m going to the bathroom.” Gen slid out of the booth.

  “Make it fast. I’ll be at the register. One bed or two?”

  “Whatever.”

  A hotel room with Vincent. Gen looked in the mirror as she washed her hands. Sally’s glamour had totally faded. Only her face looked back. Maybe a little smudge of tired under her eyes but not circles. What was that bossy butthead talking about? She should have listened to Morgan when her friend warned her how overbearing werewolves could be.

  Shit! Morgan. She was supposed to check in. A quick text would have to do.

  All is fine here. Very strange, but we are ok. Going to stay in hotel, roads bad. Happy Thanksgiving.

  Vincent stood at the front door, a plastic to-go bag in one hand and her coat in the other. She shrugged into it, and they walked out the door, a blast of frigid air greeting them. Gen took two steps and slipped, saved from going down to the ground by Vincent grabbing her.

  “See? It’s icy. No way we want to be on these roads. I got the last room at the hotel. It’s right across the street.”

  Probably a good idea, she had to admit, but not out loud to Vincent. And, she realized as she sat down in the Jeep, she was exhausted. He must be too, after what he’d been through today. She waited in the vehicle at the hotel, rubbing her hands together to warm them, while Vincent went inside to register. He didn’t look happy when he came out, and when she turned on the light in the room she saw why.

  “This is, uh, different.” Gen plunked her purse and overnight bag on a chair and looked around.

  A heart-shaped bed with a hot-pink spread dominated the center. Mirrors made up the headboard, and when she looked upward she saw they covered the ceiling too. Hearts and flowers adorned the wallpaper.

  “What is that thing?” Gen pointed to an object in the corner of the room. Vincent walked in further and turned on another light.

  “It’s a hot tub.”

  More like a giant red-and-white bathtub, also shaped like a heart, with swirls of red and pink marbling the exterior. Mirrors surrounded this garish apparition also, and for a moment Gen feared they had accidently wandered into a carnival funhouse.

  “This is the honeymoon suite. It’s the only room they had left.” Vincent averted his gaze and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m calling the front desk to see if they have another room.”

  “No, no, this is fine. Don’t worry about it. We’re not going to be here long anyway, right? We’ll just watch a couple of movies or something until they clear and salt the roads.”

  Or something. Looking at the bed again, a flicker of heat flared between her thighs.

  He tossed his suitcase on the couch and dug through it. “Right. I’m going to take a shower, grab a nap. Put those leftovers in the refrigerator, would you?”

  “Okay. I’m goi
ng to text Carly, make sure she can open the store, then see if the bed vibrates.”

  It didn’t, but to her delight she found a bottle of wine and a small container of bubble bath in a basket by the tub. The thought of soaking in hot water was suddenly terribly appealing. Not sure what would happen to Vincent’s water pressure, she filled the tub anyway and added some of her essential oils along with the bubbles. There. Now it smelled heavenly. In a short while she was immersed, only her head and toes peeking out of the froth.

  “Are you running water out here?”

  Vincent walked from the bathroom, a towel around his waist. Gen turned her head and caught her breath. His skin glistened, slightly damp and a five-o’clock shadow covered his cheeks and jaw. Damn, the man was hot. He rubbed his hair with a towel but stopped when he saw her. His mouth curved in a slow smile, and a bulge formed in the towel covering his torso.

  “You like that bathtub?”

  “I couldn’t resist.” She slowly extended a leg out of the bubbles, thankful she’d shaved before this trip.

  The bulge grew larger and waves of desire radiated from him, so strong she could almost touch them. All thoughts of sleep were forgotten. A more immediate need took precedence.

  “Hand me a glass of wine, would you?”

  He poured one for himself, brought them both over, and sat on the edge of the tub.

  “How about washing my back?” She turned and knelt, sitting on her feet, elevating her torso slightly. He trailed his fingertip down her spine, and hard as she tried to stay still, she couldn’t suppress a shiver.

  He laughed, a low sexy sound, like he knew his touch made her ache with need. And it did. Just like that, she wanted him.

  “Hand me the soap.”

  Sparks zinged as their hands made contact. The scent of him reached her, combining with the oil she’d put in the water. Clean but slightly musky, Vincent’s own personal pheromones, causing her pulse to pound. Her breathing quickened as he ran his soapy hands along her back, then reached around to the front and caressed her breasts. He moved torturously slowly, like she knew he would, to build up her desire to the highest peak. He already knew just how she liked to have her nipples gently thumbed, then pinched firmly.

  A moan escaped her and she turned her head. “I think there’s room for two in here.”

  Those eyes. Gone from hazel to obsidian, dark with lust. He dropped the towel and climbed in, and reached for her again.

  “No, no, let me wash you. Lean back, shut your eyes, and lie still.”

  He did, closing his eyes. She started at his chest, rubbing the soap in slow circles, paying extra attention to his nipples. He squirmed slightly and groaned, but kept his eyes closed. Now she moved her hands down, down, scrubbing his muscular abdomen, down further to the patch of wiry hair at his lower belly.

  With featherlight fingers she stroked his swollen cock, watching as a look almost of pain crossed his face. Should she make him beg a little? For those cable ties on her wrists, at least.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes.” A guttural moan, barely intelligible.

  “Want me to squeeze harder?” She did, just a little.

  He moaned again and pushed his pelvis up. His cock jumped in her hand and with the other one she fondled his balls.

  “Not going to take much more of this.”

  “Oh really? What are you going to do?” Like she didn’t know.

  He moved fast but still gracefully, grabbing her before she could escape and pulling her out of the water to stand.

  “This.”

  He knelt and parted her thighs slightly, then ran his tongue along her pussy lips, finding her engorged clit and flicking it with his tongue.

  “And this.”

  Now he inserted two fingers inside, and it was her turn to moan. Heat shot through her, and she thrust against his tongue and hand, wanting more. Wanting his cock inside her, his skin on hers. She sank her fingers into his damp hair and pulled him away. He looked up at her with an intensity that seared into her soul, then stood. Turning her around, he positioned her against the wall and lifted her leg to rest on the side of the tub.

  “You still got those condoms in your purse?”

  “I think there’s a few left.”

  “Don’t move.”

  He stepped from the tub, and she watched him cross the room, dump her purse out on a table, and then grab a foil packet. Back in the tub he grasped her hips and slid his cock into her throbbing pussy, moaning as he did. She pressed her ass against his stomach, wanting to touch as much of his skin as possible. He leaned in close, wrapping his arms around her torso. She felt his strong chest against her back, the crinkly hairs tickling ever so slightly. As she returned his embrace and hugged him to her wet body, she snuggled her head back and kissed his neck.

  Sweet Lord, nothing on this Earth felt as good as Vincent inside her. He held himself there for a moment, his body trembling, stroking the wet, lightly oiled skin of her back, then slid his hands down over her sensitive buttocks. He thrust into her again, hard, only his hands on her ass keeping her upright. Thrusting over and over, he came with a shout, his body shuddering. He clutched her tightly until his breath came normally once again, and leaned his head to kiss her neck.

  “Love you,” he murmured, then slid down to his knees, kneeling in the water. “Turn around.”

  She faced him, one hand grasping his hair and the other holding onto a grab bar for support as he brought his tongue to her aching clit. He sucked it hard, and when he pulled it into his mouth and lightly grazed his teeth over the surface, she came. She yelled almost as loudly as he had, slightly concerned about the occupants of the next room hearing them, but not really.

  A half hour later they lay in bed, suds rinsed away, wine polished off, limbs entwined. Sleep came quickly for both.

  Chapter 11

  Friday.

  “I got a job offer.” There. Just spit it out.

  They sped down the highway, and fortunately, only a few remnants of last night’s snowfall remained, since Vincent liked to drive faster than the speed of light. They’d woken early, and though tempted to stay in bed for another round of pleasure, both agreed they should hit the road. A quick drive through a donut shop for breakfast and coffee and they were off.

  “What kind of job offer?”

  “A cosmetic company wants me to come work for them and help develop a new line of products.”

  “Where are they located?”

  “In Maryland.”

  “Maryland? You’d give up your business and work for someone else? Why would you even consider a move like that?”

  “The salary is really good. Benefits, security. Kind of nice to have. But I haven’t given them an answer. I thought I’d see what you have to say.”

  Gen studied his face, or attempted to. He wore his hat and sunglasses, and she wished she could see his expression more clearly. He stared straight ahead, and a twitch in his jaw was the only reaction she glimpsed, but she knew what he would say. After last night, after what they’d shared, she would not be going anywhere. He loved her. She heard it with her own ears. Now she would hear how much he wanted her to stay.

  “You should take it.”

  WTF? “I should?”

  “You should. For all the reasons you mentioned. And more.”

  “What more?”

  “Your personal safety.”

  “How about all the reasons I shouldn’t take it? Like last night and the other two nights we’ve been together.”

  “Exactly why you should go away. You staying here, getting involved with me, not a good idea. My life…it’s too much of a mess to have you or anyone else in it, especially right now. Shit, Gen, I put you in danger. You could have been hurt, or killed.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he still didn’t look in her direction.

  “I made my own decision to come to see you. You didn’t put me anywhere.”

  “You didn’t know what was going on.”
r />   “Well, now I do, and I’m not scared.” Small lie.

  “You should be. And how about all those other problems we’ve talked about? You joining with my pack, being a witch.”

  “I’m not joining your pack.” Oh please, were they really going to have this argument again?

  “If we get serious, if you become involved in my life, you kind of do join the pack. Then there’s the whole issue with that curse and your mental health.”

  “I already told you, I’ll figure it out. Hallmar will know. It will work. My mental health is not your concern.”

  “If we’re in a relationship, everything about you is my concern, and I don’t want more concerns. I don’t want to be in a relationship with you.”

  Gen opened her mouth to argue further, then closed it, tears welling. What the hell was wrong with this man? Making love to her like his life depended on it one minute, pushing her away the next.

  “Didn’t last night mean anything? I could swear I heard the L word come out of your mouth.”

  “We’re done talking about this subject.” He punched a button on the console, and Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’ blasted out.

  “Oh, and just what the hell is this? The song I danced to for you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything for me.”

  He turned to her, nostrils flared, eyes dark as rainclouds as he looked over his sunglasses. “I didn’t say I don’t feel anything for you. I feel too much. I don’t want that. I will not be responsible for your safety. I fucked up once with a human, let my guard down, and a woman died. Which won’t happen ever again.” He jabbed another button and changed the song. “End of discussion. Period.”

  Gen turned her head and dug through her purse to hide the tear that had escaped and rolled down her cheek. Pulling out her phone and ear buds, she scooted as close to the door and as far away from Vincent as she could. Stuck in a vehicle with this irritating man was the hellish opposite of heaven from the night before. How did things change so quickly? She found a playlist of relaxing music, designed to lull her to sleep on restless nights, and turned her head to watch the dismal landscape roll by. Snow piled on the side of the road had already turned to blackened slush. Vincent picked up the pace, well over the speed limit. Fine. The sooner they got home the better.