Over Hexed

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  ‘‘Or it will demonstrate that we’re condoning his bad behavior.’’

  ‘‘Maybe, but I think it’s worth a shot. Anyway, enough about George.’’ She curled her fingers around her own personal phallic treasure. ‘‘Have you noticed that Big Knob looks a lot like this?’’

  Ambrose lifted his head and looked down the length of his body. ‘‘Big Knob looks like my penis?’’

  ‘‘Not yours, specifically, but like a generic version.’’

  ‘‘That must be why there are all the rumors about this place. Somehow that granite outcropping radiates sexual potency.’’

  ‘‘That would explain Sean.’’ She stroked him gently and was encouraged by the firmness of his response.

  ‘‘Sean could be the tip of the iceberg. I’m betting this is one lusty town.’’

  ‘‘Could be. Right now I’m only interested in one lusty wizard.’’ Satisfied that he was prepped for another adventure, she levered herself to a sitting position and climbed aboard. Ah, that was good.

  Ambrose cupped her breasts in both hands. ‘‘Wish we had our sex bench.’’

  ‘‘Me, too.’’ She began to ride him slowly. At their age, they could afford to take their time. ‘‘But Sean has other things on his mind right now.’’

  Maggie closed the side door into the garage and started toward the small house. About that time something darted across her path. She noticed a streak of white, but the rest of the creature melted into the darkness.

  Without being a wildlife expert, she could only guess, but she’d probably seen her first live skunk. It paused at the corner of the house, tail raised.

  She didn’t think a raised tail was a good sign. ‘‘Nice skunk,’’ she said. ‘‘Good little skunk. I’m not going to hurt you, sweet little skunk.’’ Calling a skunk sweet might be going a bit far, but she wasn’t above flattery if it saved her from being sprayed with some noxious liquid.

  Keeping an eye on the mostly invisible creature, she edged toward the bungalow’s back door. What in hell was she doing out here, anyway? She was a city girl, out of her element in the woods with skunks and a small-town loverboy who probably wouldn’t live up to his press.

  Yeah, right. He was guaranteed to be good in bed, and she knew it. She’d never been kissed like that, even by sophisticated guys who drove Jags and flashed their no-limit American Express cards. Well, so she’d only dated one of those, and he’d been a self-important jerk. Sean could kiss rings around him.

  As a result of Sean’s talented mouth, she was currently dodging a skunk and climbing the steps to his back door so she could set up a homey little meal for the two of them. It wasn’t exactly in line with the image she’d tried to cultivate for the past six months at the corporate offices of SaveALot.

  In spite of that, she was having a good time. Helping Sean rescue a family of skunks from being poisoned felt right to her, even though she’d never met a skunk in the flesh, or in the fur, until a minute ago. Maybe this experience in Big Knob would provide her with anecdotes she could tell at the SaveALot Christmas party.

  Or not. She’d been in this town less than a day, and she was already feeling protective of its backward ways and colorful residents. Edith Mae Hoogstraten and her old Buick might make a good watercooler story back in Houston, but Maggie didn’t think she’d be telling it.

  When the SaveALot corporate machine moved in, they wouldn’t take any notice of people like Edith Mae, anyway. They’d be looking for cheap labor and cooperative building inspectors. Once the store was in place, the Edith Maes of the town would be categorized as potential customers, not individuals who had lived a lifetime in this area.

  And that was as it should be. A company couldn’t offer the kinds of bargains that SaveALot provided unless they dealt in volume sales. The people of Big Knob would have more choices at a lower cost. Most of them would be pleased about that.

  Maggie opened the back door and stepped into Sean’s dark kitchen. After fumbling around on the wall beside the door, she located a light switch and flipped it on. Then she let out a sigh of pleasure.

  The kitchen was small, but every nook and cranny had been lovingly utilized for storage. Maggie had never met a man who understood the need for storage, and here was one who not only understood it, he’d created it with his bare hands. Or his gloved hands, which was even sexier.

  In any case, she was positive he’d built the handsome birch cabinets lining the kitchen walls. To her surprise, she liked knowing a guy was handy with tools. She’d had no clue that cabinetry could get her hot.

  In her imagination she watched Sean building these cabinets, his gloved hands steady on the power saw, his eyes focused on the whirring blade. No doubt about it, he had a sexy job, far sexier than the corporate hotshots she’d spent the past six months with.

  She wasn’t here to admire the cabinets, though. She’d offered to get dinner on the table, and even a kitchen klutz like her should be able to reheat food and serve it up on a plate. Taking off her coat, she draped it over one of the chairs surrounding the oak table. Then she pulled out all the Tupperware containers and got to work.

  Ten minutes later, she had places set and food steaming. She’d never felt so domestic in her life. It wasn’t a realistic perception, because someone else had cooked the food and this wasn’t even her kitchen. If she was feeling all Little House on the Prairie, she needed to realize it was an illusion.

  Everything about Big Knob seemed surreal, now that she thought about it. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall in with their time-warp mentality and start imagining that closing up all businesses except the local tavern at six on a Friday night was perfectly normal.

  The back door opened. ‘‘Sure smells good,’’ Sean said as he hung his coat on a peg by the door.

  Maggie blinked. His comment was straight out of a suburban sitcom, ranking right up there with Honey, I’m home! Except no guy in any sitcom she’d ever watched kissed like Sean.

  They didn’t do passionate lip-locks in family shows. No matter what illusion she was working with here, it was definitely R-rated, maybe even bordering on X. Instead of sitting down at the oak table with Sean, she wanted him to shove her onto its smooth surface and unzip her jeans.

  ‘‘Your timing’s good.’’ She kept her tone light, as if she weren’t having thoughts of wild sex on the kitchen table. ‘‘Everything’s ready.’’ Me, too, in case you were wondering.

  ‘‘Great.’’ He moved to the sink and turned on the water to wash his hands. ‘‘I set the trap. In an hour or so I’ll go check and see if it worked.’’

  ‘‘Good. By the way, I really love your cabinets.’’

  ‘‘Thanks. Me, too.’’ He lathered up.

  Judging from their sedate conversation, they might as well be an old married couple who shared the evening meal every day of their lives. She prepared the food and he trapped the skunks and built the cabinets, a neat division of labor. She should be horrified to find herself in such a clichéd situation. Instead the pit of her stomach grew warm with happiness, and her sexual needs simmered below the surface, ready to burst into flame at the slightest provocation.

  Maybe this was how life was for those who were well matched. But other than the obvious sexual attraction, she and Sean were polar opposites. He would hate living in her world and she’d have to give up all her ambitious dreams to live in his. Giving up dreams was never a good idea.

  But giving up the potential for great sex didn’t seem too brilliant, either. As Sean grabbed a towel and dried his hands, she found herself watching those hands and imagining them stroking her naked body.

  He turned and caught her staring. ‘‘What’s up?’’

  ‘‘I want to make sure we understand each other.’’ She wondered how she’d ever thought he was homely. For some reason he’d left his glasses in the garage, and without them, he was looking superhot again.

  ‘‘Understand each other about what?’’

  ‘‘I’m here to buy that p
roperty for SaveALot.’’ She thought of him naked and almost forgot to breathe. ‘‘Once I do, I’m heading back to my life in Houston.’’

  ‘‘Yeah, you keep saying that.’’

  ‘‘Because I mean it.’’ She tried not to look at the crotch of his jeans, but her glance kept straying there. ‘‘Sex between us would change nothing.’’ But discussing it made her quiver so much she could barely stand.

  ‘‘Okay.’’ Holding her gaze, he reached behind him and laid the towel on the counter.

  ‘‘So I don’t see what’s in it for you.’’

  He studied her, as if hesitant to say. Finally he took a deep breath. ‘‘Look, I haven’t had sex in almost a year. Until you showed up today, I had no interest in it. I was beginning to wonder if that was the end of my dream of having a wife and kids. If so, then I sure as hell wouldn’t need that big old house.’’

  ‘‘Whoa.’’ She backed up a step and clamped down on her libido. Going to bed with a guy who was wife hunting would be cruel and unfair. ‘‘If you’re thinking that I might—’’

  ‘‘No way. I’m not a complete idiot. But if sex with you is good, then I’ll know I’m not dead inside.’’

  The blowtorch of lust fired up again and her panties grew damp. ‘‘So I’m like therapy?’’

  He smiled. ‘‘I think we’d have more fun than that. But I don’t want you feeling upset about it afterward.’’

  She began to tremble. ‘‘I won’t if we’re clear about our motivation.’’

  His voice softened. ‘‘I just gave you mine. What’s yours, Maggie?’’

  She knew it, but she wasn’t sure she could say it. She gathered her courage. ‘‘I want you. I’m going crazy from wanting you.’’

  His green eyes glowed with heat. ‘‘I like that motivation.’’

  ‘‘But we’re supposed to have dinner.’’

  He reached for her, pulling her tight against his hard body. Gently he took off her glasses and laid them behind him on the counter. ‘‘Dinner can wait.’’

  Chapter 16

  He could have her. Here, in the kitchen, exactly as he’d fantasized. And it was his fantasy for a change. In the hundreds of times he’d had sex with a woman, he’d always been a part of her fantasy. Now Maggie was giving him a chance to act out his own.

  Cradling her cheek in one hand, he gazed down at her, savoring the picture of what would happen between them very soon. The kitchen smelled of meat loaf now, but soon it would smell of meat loaf and sex. He couldn’t think of a better combination than that. Down-home cooking mingled with down-home loving.

  Leaning toward her, he touched his mouth to hers, putting all his gratitude and anticipation into that kiss. Then he released her and stepped away. ‘‘Stay right there. Don’t move.’’ He hated to leave and take a chance on breaking the mood, but if he wanted condoms, he had no choice.

  She gazed up at him, her blue eyes bright. ‘‘We’re not going to the bedroom, then?’’

  ‘‘Maybe next time.’’

  Her mouth curved in a secret smile. ‘‘Okay.’’

  ‘‘But I have to get something.’’ Hurrying down the hall, he ducked into the bathroom and wrenched open the cabinet. Ah. The box was where he’d remembered. He opened it, pocketed one foil packet and headed back down the hall.

  God, he hoped she hadn’t changed her mind in that short time. When he walked into the kitchen and found her topless, he decided she hadn’t. If anything, her mind was completely made up.

  But her mind wasn’t the focus of his attention right now. He gulped as she cupped her breasts in both hands.

  ‘‘Earlier today you asked me if there was anything wrong with these,’’ she said.

  His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. ‘‘Mmph.’’ He’d never seen such beautiful breasts in his life— so pale, so perfectly formed, so sweetly dusted with cinnamon freckles. Her rosy nipples puckered as if begging for a kiss.

  ‘‘As you can see, there’s nothing wrong with them.’’

  He shook his head.

  She let her hands fall to her sides as she walked toward him. ‘‘Touch me, Sean. I’ve been wanting you to ever since this afternoon.’’

  His hands trembled as he came in contact with her silky skin. A groan slipped out. She was so soft, so very warm. And his fantasy was about to come true.

  Sliding both hands to her waist, he lifted her and turned, positioning her in front of him on the granite counter. Then he lowered his head and proceeded to enjoy the bounty she’d offered him.

  She seemed happy about that. Bracing her hands behind her on the counter, she leaned back, lifting her breasts in an erotic move that drove him wild. The kitchen filled with the sounds of his mouth and tongue, blended with her soft moans of delight.

  He licked and sucked until her skin gleamed with moisture. He gave thanks for the return of his eyesight, which allowed him to trace each freckle with the tip of his tongue until she began to writhe against the granite counter.

  Her breathing became labored. ‘‘Sean . . . I need . . .’’

  Filling in the blanks took no imagination at all. He knew exactly what she needed. He slipped off her shoes but didn’t bother with her socks. Her jeans and panties took more effort, but she helped, lifting herself off the counter so he could pull them off.

  ‘‘You, too,’’ she murmured, her gaze hot as it swept over him.

  He had one uneasy moment as he worried about whether his body would be less than studly. He’d never had to think about that before, and it was a little unnerving. His eyesight was better, though, and so was his hair. Maybe his dick was its usual size, too.

  If not, he’d keep her too busy to notice. Vowing not to let that kind of nonsense affect his enjoyment of the moment, he shucked his clothes. As he tossed them aside, he noticed a stick of butter sitting on a saucer on the counter nearby.

  Normally he wasn’t inventive when it came to sex. He’d left that to the women who worked so hard to seduce him. But this time when he saw that butter, he became inspired. It had been placed too close to the stove and was losing its shape. Perfect.

  Plunging his fingers into it, he turned back to Maggie. All along he’d planned to butter her up, but until this moment, he hadn’t thought he’d be doing it literally.

  Her gaze traveled over him, pausing when it reached his erect penis. He fought the urge to look down and see if it measured up. When her mouth curved in a smile of appreciation, the small knot of anxiety in his chest relaxed. The getting naked part would be okay.

  Then she glanced at the butter on his fingers and sucked in a breath.

  ‘‘Hold still,’’ he murmured. Moving between her thighs, he began smearing the butter on her breasts.

  ‘‘Ahhhhh.’’ Leaning back, she closed her eyes and ran her tongue over her mouth. ‘‘Incredible.’’

  The sensation of rubbing the creamy butter over her warm skin nearly sent him over the edge. If her rapid breathing was any indication, the buttery massage was having the same effect on her. His oiled hands slid over her breasts in long, sensuous strokes, as if he were molding her, shaping her for the sex they would soon have. In the light spilling from the overhead fixture, she began to gleam like polished marble.

  Scooping more butter from the dish, he extended his range, covering her rib cage and moving down over her flat tummy. Skirting his ultimate goal, he rubbed the butter over her thighs.

  He paused when he saw the faint bruise where he’d rammed into her with the skunk trap. ‘‘I did hurt you, after all.’’

  Her voice was low and throaty. ‘‘Kiss it and make it better.’’

  Falling to his knees, he kissed her there, gently, with a slow sweep of his tongue at the end. From the way she caught her breath, he imagined he could read her mind. Slowly he began massaging butter onto her inner thighs, making circles that brought him ever closer to his final destination.

  The scent of her drew him, made his cock throb with wanting her. But first . . . his oiled
fingers thrust deep, sliding effortlessly inside her wet channel as she arched upward and groaned. Leaning forward, he used his tongue in rhythm with his fingers, while his senses filled with the aroma of warm butter and hot woman.

  She whimpered and braced her feet on his shoulders. As she began to thrash about on the slippery counter, he grasped her hips with both hands and pressed his mouth fully against her heat. With a strangled cry, she came, her body quaking in his grip.

  He nearly came himself, but managed to control the pounding need in his groin. As the urge to climax ebbed, he held her, kissing her damp curls until she grew still and her breathing slowed. Still on his knees, he dragged his jeans over with one hand and found the condom in his pocket. He put it on while kneeling there, afraid if he stood, his legs might not hold him. He’d never been so dizzy with lust.

  Using the support of the counter, he pulled himself to his feet. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, her oiled breasts quivering with every breath. Her sexy vulnerability gave him new strength.

  She was perched a little too high for him to take her while she sat on the counter. ‘‘Wrap your legs around my hips,’’ he murmured.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and they were darkened by the same needs flowing through him. Wordlessly, holding his gaze, she clutched his shoulders and circled his hips with her legs.

  Sliding her slick body off the counter, he lowered her just enough. . . . Right there. With a guttural sound of satisfaction, he pushed home.

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted. The flame flickering in her blue eyes ignited as his fingers dug into her soft bottom, holding them both steady. If he came now, they would collapse onto the floor. And he was so close.

  Thank God for a small kitchen. Turning away from the counter, he eased her to the table. Silverware clattered to the floor as he swept it aside. Then he lowered her to the smooth surface. Keeping his feet on the floor, he leaned forward, rubbing his chest against her gleaming skin.

  The sensual friction, made even more erotic by the slickness of the melted butter, wiped out what was left of his control. Easing his hips back, he began pumping hard and fast, sliding back and forth across her belly and her breasts with each rapid movement of his hips.