Over Hexed

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He opened his door. ‘‘Then let me get the Tupperware so you can—’’

  ‘‘But I don’t want to go back to Madeline’s.’’

  He glanced back in her direction, his eyes shining in the overhead light in the truck’s cab. ‘‘You don’t?’’

  ‘‘Nope.’’ The triumph of going for it gave her a jolt of adrenaline. ‘‘But I have to let her know I’m okay. How do I accomplish that?’’

  ‘‘I’ll take care of it. But are you sure you want to—’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’ Her blood pumped heat through her veins. ‘‘Yes to whatever you have in mind.’’

  Sean flipped open his phone and punched in a number. ‘‘Madeline? It’s Sean. Yes, she’s fine. We didn’t want you to worry, but . . . she’ll be staying with me tonight.’’ He paused. ‘‘Uh, okay. Talk to you later.’’ He closed the phone.

  ‘‘Was she scandalized?’’

  He clipped the phone back onto his jeans and looked over at her. ‘‘No.’’

  ‘‘But you said she was superconservative.’’

  ‘‘She is. It’s the darnedest thing. I thought she’d ream me out for keeping you here and corrupting you with my wild ways, but she didn’t.’’

  ‘‘Then what did she say?’’

  ‘‘Just one word. Good.’’

  Chapter 20

  Once Sean knew Maggie was back in the game, he didn’t waste any time hustling her inside and getting her naked. Although he’d considered the idea of outside sex, it was way too cold to be fun. Besides, having a naked woman in his bed was novelty enough. He’d never allowed that to happen before.

  Maybe that explained Madeline’s reaction to the news that Maggie was sleeping over. Madeline might have figured this situation was different from his other sexual escapades. Either that or she’d do anything to keep him from going blind.

  As he tumbled to the mattress with a very warm and willing Maggie, he realized he might be crossing into commitment territory. He might be able to forget that he’d had sex with her on his kitchen table, but he’d never forget this picture of her lying beneath him in the glow of the bedside table lamp, her head resting on his pillow.

  A condom lay ready on the table and Maggie had wrapped both hands around his eager penis. Knowing it was long enough to require two hands reassured him that the herbs were no longer messing with his appearance. She was doing wonderful things down there in his southern hemisphere, stroking his cock and fondling his balls.

  He ached from wanting her and was almost ready to use that condom. Almost.

  She rubbed her thumb over the moistened tip of his penis. ‘‘Let’s get you into your party clothes.’’

  ‘‘In a minute.’’ Her caresses were heaven, but if she kept them up, he wouldn’t be able to ignore the pressure building in his groin. He didn’t want to hurry this time.

  Sitting back on his haunches, he gently took her hands in his. Leaning forward, he raised them over her head and pressed them into the pillow. ‘‘Let me look at you.’’

  She blushed. ‘‘I’m just an ordinary girl.’’

  ‘‘Not even close to ordinary.’’ He’d never appreciated twenty-twenty eyesight more than now, when he could use it to gaze at Maggie. Everything about her fascinated him—her milky skin dusted with pale freckles, her wide blue eyes and up-tilted nose, her breasts tipped with taffy-colored nipples, her slender waist and the inviting flare of her hips.

  As he studied her, she began to squirm on the mattress. ‘‘You’re making me self-conscious.’’

  ‘‘A woman who looks like you should never be self-conscious.’’ Soon he would be rocked in the cradle of those hips. Soon he would thrust past the soft curls guarding the entrance to his own personal paradise. Soon their passion-slick bodies would writhe on this mattress and send the headboard banging against the wall.

  He’d never had the luxury of anticipation before, and it was sweeter than he could have imagined. He allowed his glance to roam slowly back up to her face. ‘‘You’re beautiful,’’ he said.

  ‘‘I’m not, but thank you.’’

  ‘‘You are, and thank you.’’ He kissed her mouth, her throat, her breasts. He could spend forever on her breasts. They were the nicest size—not too large and not too small. Perfect for nuzzling, licking, sucking. He took his time, savored the feel of her nipple rolling between his tongue and teeth.

  She began to breathe faster and struggled half-heartedly, as if to break free of the grip he had on her wrists.

  He’d never held a woman prisoner like this, and his heart hammered with the excitement of it. He lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. His voice was thick with lust. ‘‘Do you want me to let you go?’’

  She gulped and shook her head.

  ‘‘Good.’’ He lowered his head to her breasts again.

  She continued to struggle, and her breathing grew ragged. As he sucked rhythmically on her breast, she tensed. He used his teeth, just a little.

  ‘‘I’m coming!’’ Arching her back, she gasped and trembled beneath him.

  He waited until she sank back to the mattress before he released her and scooped the condom off the table. Trembling himself, he had to concentrate to get it on. Finally he managed it.

  Her skin was flushed from her orgasm, her channel hot and wet as he slid deep inside her. Instantly she began to tighten around his cock, and he rocked forward, making her come again.

  As she shuddered in his arms, he began to thrust, first slowly, and then faster until the headboard slammed against the wall exactly as he’d imagined it would. What a beautiful sound. When they climaxed together, his surge of joy told him what he already suspected. It might be inconvenient, but there it was. Maggie was the one.

  ‘‘I’m too old to be pulling an all-nighter,’’ Ambrose grumbled as they sailed over the leafless trees on Dorcas’s Kama Sutra broom.

  ‘‘It’s not my fault dragons sleep during the day.’’ Personally, Dorcas was thrilled with that particular behavior. She was loving this nighttime ride.

  She didn’t dare fire up her broom in broad daylight, so visiting George in the dead of night was the perfect excuse to fly. Steering was a little trickier with Ambrose adding extra weight on the tail section, and she couldn’t do any barrel rolls or he was liable to puke. Even with those disadvantages, it was great to be back on her broom again.

  Sabrina had wanted to come, but Dorcas had made her stay home. George didn’t need an extra distraction like Sabrina around when focusing was already a problem for him. Dorcas had promised to give Sabrina a ride another night. That kitty loved feeling the wind through her fur. She could hold on like nobody’s business during the barrel rolls, too.

  This particular flight was over way too soon. Dorcas took a spin around Big Knob for the hell of it before setting the broom down in a small clearing in the trees.

  Climbing off, she glanced back at Ambrose, who was holding the gift-wrapped iPod. ‘‘Good. You didn’t lose the present.’’

  ‘‘It’s a wonder you didn’t lose me. When you buzzed Big Knob I almost fell off.’’

  ‘‘Sorry about that. It’s just that I miss flying so much.’’

  Ambrose’s expression softened. ‘‘I know. We need to convince George to assume his duties so we can move back to Sedona and get on with our normal lives.’’

  ‘‘Let’s hope tonight is the beginning of that.’’ Dorcas leaned her broom up against a tree. Then she pulled a recharged fairy light out of one pocket and a small wooden flute out of the other. She set the fairy light on a stump.

  ‘‘I’m still not sure about the iPod, Dorcas. We have no way of knowing if the Perpetually Charged spell worked or not. What if the thing has to be charged on a regular basis? That could cause more problems.’’

  Dorcas glanced at him. ‘‘It’s the thought that counts.’’

  ‘‘It feels like a bribe.’’

  ‘‘Well, it’s not. It’s a gesture of friendship and goodwill.’’ Dorcas lifted the flute
to her lips and played the summoning tune that would bring George out of his lair deep under Big Knob.

  Drawing him out of the lair was no problem. George was always up for a distraction. Dorcas knew he might not even be in his lair. He could be off somewhere playing poker with the raccoons. The flute would bring him, though. Dragons were powerless to resist the lure of this type of flute.

  For a dragon weighing two thousand pounds, George was amazingly light on his feet. She didn’t realize he was approaching until she saw his red eyes hovering about eight feet off the ground. The wind must have been blowing away from him, because she didn’t smell smoke yet.

  For the second time tonight, he’d decided to pull his invisibility trick, so that all anyone could see were his eyes. He’d done that earlier and scared poor Maggie half to death. Dorcas was used to it.

  She lowered the flute. ‘‘Hello, George.’’

  ‘‘Good evening, George,’’ Ambrose said. ‘‘How’s it going?’’

  George blew a smoke ring in the shape of a heart. ‘‘Pocket aces, that’s how it’s going, and then, bam! you do the flute thing. Those raccoons cheat, so I go, ‘Don’t you dare switch those cards, because I’ll be right back.’ But I know them. They’ll switch ’em. This better not take long, because they’ll steal my chips, too.’’

  Dorcas vowed to stay calm. ‘‘So you must have already made your rounds tonight.’’

  ‘‘Making rounds is lame, man.’’ His next smoke ring was in the shape of a diamond. ‘‘Nothing ever happens in this freakin’ forest. Total waste of time to go around checking it out like a dweeb. Besides, I’m ADD.’’

  ‘‘That’s never been ascertained medically,’’ Dorcas said.

  ‘‘Who cares? I totally fit the profile, dude, ’cause I can’t concentrate.’’ He blew a club-shaped smoke ring at them. ‘‘If I can’t concentrate, I’m, like, crappy at doing rounds, so why bother?’’

  Ambrose cleared his throat. ‘‘Because it’s your job. Because it’s the only way you’ll earn your gold scales.’’

  ‘‘Gold scales are for losers. Brownish-green is camouflage, man. It’s cool.’’ He finished his playing card smoke rings with a spade. ‘‘So what’s that on the stump? Looks like a present.’’ His eyes lowered until they were even with the wrapped box. ‘‘Or a bomb. A bomb would be cool.’’

  Dorcas picked up the package. ‘‘It’s a present. But before I give it to you, I want your word that you’ll start making rounds every night.’’

  ‘‘What is it?’’

  She wrapped her hands around it. ‘‘You won’t find out unless you give me your word about making your rounds.’’

  ‘‘Sheesh! Okay, okay, I’ll do the dumb-ass rounds! Give me the present.’’

  ‘‘Reveal yourself first,’’ Ambrose said.

  ‘‘Or . . . I could just take the present.’’ George’s eyes hovered closer.

  Dorcas stepped back. ‘‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’re dealing with a fully functioning witch and wizard.’’

  ‘‘Blah, blah, blah. Oh, all right, don’t have a coronary.’’ Suddenly George stood before them in all his scaliness. He had a horn in the middle of his snout, ears that flopped sideways and wicked-looking teeth. Because he was still young, only about three hundred years old, those teeth were razor sharp. ‘‘Now give me the present.’’

  ‘‘And you will do rounds?’’ Dorcas asked.

  ‘‘Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll do the rounds. Give it here.’’

  Dorcas handed over the package with more than a few misgivings. She had no real confidence that George would keep his promise, but she had to start somewhere.

  He tore into the package and had the iPod out in about two seconds. ‘‘Word! Perfectamundo!’’ In another two seconds he had the earplugs in and was gyrating in time to the music only he could hear. ‘‘Oh yeah. I’m bad.’’

  Ambrose glanced at Dorcas. ‘‘Great. Now we can’t talk to him.’’

  ‘‘I have to admit I didn’t think of that. But I did get him to say he’d do his rounds.’’

  ‘‘Uh-huh. And you believe him?’’

  Dorcas took a deep breath. ‘‘Yes, I’m going to choose to believe him.’’

  ‘‘Dreamer.’’

  About that time George became invisible again, so all they could see were his eyes and the iPod jiggling around. ‘‘Catch you later, dudes. Rock on.’’ He blew a smoke ring in the shape of a guitar. Then the eyes and the iPod bobbed off through the trees.

  Ambrose sighed. ‘‘That went well.’’

  ‘‘One night at a time, Ambrose. One night at a time.’’

  Maggie woke up to sunshine coming through a completely unfamiliar window. Besides that, she was naked, and she never slept naked. As memory returned like a slap to the head, she rolled over and confronted an equally naked Sean lying next to her, his green eyes filled with welcome and his smile promising immediate seduction.

  There was a reason why she couldn’t give in to the lust that washed over her as she looked at him, but what was it? She had to do something today, something very important. But as Sean pulled her close, damned if she could remember what it was.

  From across the room, her BlackBerry played ‘‘The Yellow Rose of Texas’’ and she remembered. She wiggled away from Sean and climbed out of bed. ‘‘Sorry. I have to get that.’’

  ‘‘Are you sure?’’ His voice was deep and sensual, his gaze hot. ‘‘Doesn’t that thing take messages?’’

  As she turned to gaze at him lying in the rumpled bed where they’d made love six ways to Sunday during the night, she realized why she couldn’t get back into that bed. For all she knew, he’d be willing to keep her occupied there all day. It could be his tactic for making sure she didn’t contact the owner of the property.

  The knowledge that she was tempted to ignore H.G.’s call and climb back in bed with him scared her. Sweet as it was to have sex with him, he could be using it as his ultimate weapon. After all, that had been his goal in the beginning.

  ‘‘It takes messages,’’ she said. ‘‘But that’s my boss calling. If he’s calling, that means he hasn’t fired me yet. If I get him his location today, I might still save my job. I can’t afford to ignore him right now.’’

  Moving quickly, she located her BlackBerry in the tumble of clothes on a chair. She managed to connect with H.G. before the phone switched to voice mail. ‘‘Hello, H.G.’’ She turned her back to the bed.

  ‘‘Grady, you’re getting on my very last nerve. Why haven’t I heard a blessed word from you?’’

  ‘‘I had some difficulty locating the owner of the property yesterday. I should be able to do that today. I’ll call you this afternoon once I’ve closed the deal.’’

  ‘‘You can close the deal on a Saturday?’’

  She’d temporarily forgotten what day it was. She wasn’t surprised that H.G. was working on Saturday. He always did. But she might not find other key people available. Damn it.

  She took a breath. ‘‘I realize it’s Saturday.’’ Now. ‘‘It might take me until Monday to finalize the paperwork, but I’ll get it started this morning, and I’ll let you know before you leave the office today what kind of progress I’ve made.’’

  Sean came up behind her and slipped both arms around her waist. She was trapped between him and the chair. He began to nibble on her ear.

  H.G.’s drawl sounded in her other ear. ‘‘Tell me where you are, Grady. Maybe I can help expedite things.’’

  It took all her concentration to ignore Sean’s tongue outlining the contours of her ear. ‘‘I’ll tell you this afternoon,’’ she said. ‘‘Once everything is wrapped up. See you later, H.G. Gotta go!’’ She broke the connection.

  ‘‘Now can you come back to bed?’’ Sean murmured in her ear.

  ‘‘No.’’ She put down the BlackBerry and pried his arms away from her body. Then she grabbed her clothes and moved to the other side of the room.

  Sean followed. ‘‘Maggi
e . . .’’

  She held up one hand like a traffic cop. ‘‘Stay away. I have work to do, something you know very well. You shouldn’t have tried to interfere with that phone call, and you know it.’’

  ‘‘I was only—’’

  ‘‘You were trying to distract me so I’ll forget about Denise, forget about locating the owner of the property,forget about keeping my job.’’ She dressed quickly. ‘‘It won’t work, Sean.’’

  He found his briefs and put them on. ‘‘Stay for breakfast. Another thirty minutes won’t matter.’’

  ‘‘It might.’’ She peered at him. ‘‘Your hair’s going all funny again.’’

  ‘‘Probably slept on it wrong.’’

  ‘‘No, it’s more than that. Go look.’’

  With a sigh, he walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light over the sink. ‘‘Damn Dorcas and Ambrose!’’

  She had no idea what he was talking about and wasn’t going to take time to find out. She picked up the black glasses and grabbed her coat. ‘‘I’m off!’’ she called as she left the bedroom.

  ‘‘Wait!’’ He came after her, hopping on one foot as he tried to shove his other leg in his jeans. ‘‘Let me put some clothes on. I’ll walk you to the—’’

  ‘‘Sorry, have to leave!’’ Practically running, she made it out the kitchen door and down the steps. He was not going to derail her. No way.

  Chapter 21

  Sean was not in a good mood as he showered and dressed for the day. Everything had been going so well. Having Maggie in his bed this morning had given him a terrific idea. They could spend all day there, and maybe she’d forget about trying to buy the property. The plan was simple and elegant.

  If his conscience bothered him a little for manipulating the situation, he remembered how happy she seemed to be when she was with him. At times, when they were both naked and sweaty, she acted positively ecstatic. All he wanted was to keep that smile on her face . . . and a grip on his property.