by Cathryn Fox
This year, she’d decided to be a fortune-teller. That choice had been adapted from belly dancer to accommodate her shyness. A belly dancer had to walk around and dance in her revealing costume. A fortune-teller could dress similarly but spend most of the night behind a table.
So Abby hopped into her Range Rover and drove across town to Conjure, the specialty store where her friend Kayla worked. Apparently they sold all sorts of things—gag gifts, magic stuff, costumes. She pulled into a spot across the street, then dodged the light traffic of their small downtown to reach the entrance. The door chimed as she entered, and she was immediately struck with the soothing scents of incense and spices, which made the shop feel homey and welcoming.
“Abby!” Kayla called out. “We were just talking about you.”
“You were?” Abby smiled at the pretty blonde who stood next to her friend, noting the name tag that said BRIANNA—OWNER. “What’s up?”
“I was just telling Brianna that she should come to your party.”
“She absolutely should.” Reaching into her bag, Abby withdrew a flyer. She set it on the counter, and paused a moment to rub behind the ears of the handsome black cat who sat by the register. “I’d actually be grateful if you came.”
“Oh?”
Abby wrinkled her nose and glanced at Kayla. “Shane’s coming. With a date.”
“Ugh.” Kayla shook her head. “The man’s blind. Seriously. You’re better off without him.” She glanced at her boss and explained, “Shane Markham’s her neighbor.”
Brianna’s eyebrows rose. “Lucky. He’s hot.”
The cat growled an ominous warning. Abby yanked her hand back quickly. “Yikes. Sorry.” She turned back to Kayla. “Maybe you should show me those costumes you were talking about.”
While following her friend to the rear corner of the store, Abby perused the many offerings on the shelves. She caught up a small handbasket set at the end of the aisle for customer use and picked up a crystal ball and some pretty beaded bracelets.
“I set this one aside for you,” Kayla said, turning to reveal a purple gypsy costume. “I figured you’d like it because it’s your favorite color, but now I think it’s even more perfect because it’s the most revealing one we’ve got!”
“Jeez. I can’t wear that.” Abby eyed the sheer voluminous pants with the splits down the sides and the teeny tiny halter top with its dangling gold coin decorative trim. “It’s indecent!”
“Exactly! Show Shane what he’s missing.”
“Yeah, my lack of breasts?” Snorting, Abby gestured at her less-than-ample chest. “The man dates women who look like Carmen Elektra. Why the hell would I want to point out my deficiencies?”
“Whatever. You’ve got a great athletic figure. Flaunt it!”
“It’s cold!”
“So turn the heater up. It’s your house.” Kayla handed over the costume and moved back to the counter.
Abby stared at the plum-colored confection in her hand. Despite how much skin the outfit revealed, she really loved the hue, and a quick glance at the others on the rack told her she wouldn’t like any of them near as much. She had a couple shrug sweaters. One of them might work as a cover-up…
“Just buy it!” Kayla yelled from the counter.
So Abby did. Then she collected her purchases and waved bye before crossing the street back to her car. She set the bag on the passenger seat beside her and paused, noting the flyer that stuck out of one of the handle holes. It was yellowed and torn, reminding her of an Old West wanted poster. Curious, she pulled it out while she waited for the heater to kick in.
Mystical, magical, mayhem, and more
Bring me a lover with the stamina of four.
A lover to awaken my darkest desires
And last through one night stoking the fires.
Mystical, magical, mayhem, and more
Let the lover of my dreams walk through the door.
“The stamina of four, huh?” Abby shoved the handwritten advertisement back into the bag. “I wish.”
Putting the Rover into reverse, she looked over her shoulder and backed up.
Time to get ready.
Chapter 2
ABBY HEAVED OUT HER BREATH AND TWISTED FROM SIDE TO SIDE, trying to see if the rear of her costume was as revealing as the front. She was pretty sure it was.
The sheer leggings of the low-slung pants were even more shocking when worn. From what she could tell from the mirror, the lower curves of her butt cheeks were clearly visible. And the tiny tube top was smaller than it had looked in the store. It certainly couldn’t have been worn by a woman with a larger bust. Abby’s B-cup breasts were nearly too much for it.
She’d been debating whether or not to wear one of her older costumes for at least thirty minutes. Her shyness urged her to cover up. The frustrated sex kitten inside her knew she looked pretty damn hot and wanted Shane to see it. She’d pulled her brown hair up into a thick ponytail at the top of her head and her blue eyes—which she considered to be her only laudable feature—were heavily rimmed in black eyeliner and framed by thick mascara-coated lashes.
The doorbell rang, and Abby looked at her alarm clock on the nightstand. Six o’clock. The party didn’t start for another hour yet. Curious as to who her visitor could be, she hurried down the hall. The bell chimed again, and she jogged the rest of the way.
“I’m coming!” she yelled, skidding to a halt on the tiled entryway and pulling open the door. “Whoa.”
Shane Markham stood on her porch, looking like an exotic fantasy. Wearing black-and-silver harem pants and a tiny silver vest, he was dressed like a genie or a sultan. The broad expanse of his beautifully defined chest and abs were mouthwateringly exposed, as were his delicious biceps and forearms.
“Hi,” he greeted in that low rumble she loved. “Wow. You look great.”
“Hi. You, too.”
“We match.” He gestured down the length of her.
“Must be fate.” Oh jeez. I did not just say that.
“Must be.” He smiled. “I thought I’d come over and help you get things ready.”
Yikes! An hour alone with a half-naked Shane?
She blinked. “Uh…You don’t have to do that.”
His smile widened into a devastating grin, and her heart stopped. Then began racing. “I know I don’t have to. Can I come in? It’s cold out here.”
“Uh, yes. Of course. Sorry.” Abby backed into the house and pulled the door with her.
“I love your place,” he said, striding in with the innate confidence she found so appealing.
His gaze swept across her living room, with its hardwood floors, deep red rugs, and oversized chairs in shades of taupe and brown. It was a space that was neither too feminine nor too masculine. She’d picked everything out with comfort and relaxation in mind, because she worked long hours and liked her downtime to be restful.
“I may have to start hanging out here when I want some peace and quiet.”
Abby laughed to hide the way her tummy flipped at the thought of curling up on her big couch with him. He’d be dressed in sweats, and her hand would slide up beneath his shirt to feel those amazing abs before dipping beneath his waistband and gripping his thick cock. She would stroke him, making him hard and panting for her. Then she’d straddle him right there in the living room and ride him.
Yum.
She shivered, her body aching for his. God, I’ve wanted him for so long.
“So”—he looked at her—“what do you need done?”
Abby led him to the kitchen where she kept her to-do list. He stood behind her, able to see the items clearly over her shoulder.
“I’m impressed,” he murmured, the rich texture of his voice and the smell of his cologne driving her crazy. “You sure know how to plan one hell of a party.”
She shrugged. “I enjoy it.”
“I like that about you.” His dark eyes met hers when she looked at him. “Work hard. Play hard.”
She sta
red at his lips, wondering what it would be like for him to kiss her. If she rose to her tiptoes she would only reach his chin. He’d have to bend a little to kiss a woman her height.
Or save himself the trouble and date tall models like the ones she’d seen leaving his house in the mornings.
She’d be climbing into her Rover to head to work and there they were, rushing to start their day. Willowy, beautiful women with kiss-swollen lips, dazed eyes, and big grins. They’d wave and call out a cheerful greeting as they practically danced to their cars. Abby always wondered what it would be like to wake up next to Shane. Was he amorous in the mornings? Would he reach for her, make love to her, ride her deep and slow with lazy expertise until she began her day with a wondrous orgasm?
“Where’s your friend?” she asked, wincing inwardly at the breathlessness of her query.
“Tony’s girlfriend works until closing tonight, so they’ll be over a little after ten.”
“Your friend’s a guy?”
Shane’s brows lifted. “Yeah. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Relief flooded her, quickly followed by anxiety. She didn’t know which was worse—Shane arriving with a date or hooking up with someone at the party. Lord knew the female guests would be all over him. “I just thought you were bringing a date.”
“I’m not seeing anyone right now.”
“Oh.” She looked away to hide her pleasure at the news, then busied herself with ripping open candy bags. She dumped the contents into various Halloween-themed serving bowls, and Shane stood beside her, helping. Together they managed the task within moments, then moved on to setting up the spiked punch with a big block of dry ice tossed in to create an atmospheric fog.
“I bet you’re great to have around for the holidays,” he said with an indulgent smile. “My idea of decorating is tying a red bow to the doorknocker.”
“No lights?”
He raised a finger to his lips in a gesture for secrecy. “Don’t tell anyone, but I keep the lights up all year long. They’re clear rope lights, so no one notices them until they’re pointed out.”
Abby laughed. “That’s cheating!”
“Hey! Some of my buddies only hang one string around their living room windows, if that. I should get some points.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m a guy. I need help with this stuff.” He bumped shoulders with her. “Maybe I can convince you to help me out?”
She shook her head. “You won’t need my help then.”
“Trust me,” he said dryly. “I’ll still be a guy in December.”
She bumped him right back. “Yeah, but you won’t be a single guy. Your new girl can domesticate you.”
“I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So what’s next on the list?”
“My table.” At his curious look, she explained, “I’m a fortune-teller, so I have a table and crystal ball as part of my costume.”
“Ah, props. Again, I’m impressed.”
The doorbell rang, and they both froze, then they turned their gazes in unison to look at the wall clock.
“Wow, time flies,” he said with a wink, setting his hand at the small of her back and escorting her to the door. The familiarity was agonizing for Abby. The feel of Shane’s palm against her bare skin made sharp needles of awareness spread along every nerve ending.
They reached the foyer and he turned the knob, startling Kayla and her date, who waited on the porch. “Well, don’t you two look cute? I love it when couples wear matching costumes.”
Narrowing her eyes in warning, Abby showed her guests to the living room, where the stereo played a repeating selection of Halloween CDs. Various entertainments were set up in the corners, like bobbing for apples and a box where guests had to stick their hand inside and guess the contents. She hurried back to the entryway as the bell rang again, and found the next hour of her evening spent shuttling partygoers from the door to wherever the largest congregation happened to be.
She was finally taking a break and downing a glass of punch when Shane joined her in the kitchen.
“Having fun yet?” he asked with a mischievous smile.
“Are you?”
“Why don’t you tell me my fortune and find out?”
Abby laughed. She knew he was enjoying himself. The female guests flocked to him like flies on honey, and his deep rich laughter followed her wherever she went.
“Come on.” He took her empty paper cup with its black cats in witches’ hats and tossed it in the trash before linking fingers with hers and tugging her into the living room. There, in the corner, waited her small, scarf-draped table and two chairs. Shane pulled her seat out and saw her settled, then he rounded the table and sat, waiting expectantly.
“You’re kidding,” she said.
“Nope.”
“Okay.” She rubbed the crystal ball with both hands. “I see lots of home sales and a life-size plastic snowman in your yard at Christmas.”
“Now who’s cheating?” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms, displaying his scrumptious arms to perfection. “I want to know,” he murmured in a low, provocative voice, “what does my future hold?”
Startled by the tone of the request, and thrown off-balance by the way he was watching her with those heavy-lidded eyes, Abby blurted out the first mystical-sounding thing that popped into her head. It wasn’t until he froze, unblinking, staring at her with brooding intensity that she wondered what she’d said.
“A lover to awaken your darkest desires?”
She recoiled into the seat with a hand clapped over her mouth. “Uh…” Oh jeez!
“Are we talking about your desires or mine?”
“Gah…”
Shane unfolded, leaning against the table in a way that opened his vest and revealed the beauty of his powerful chest. “Are you, by chance, hitting on me, Abby?”
Swallowing hard, she shook her head violently. “Of course not.”
He arched a dark brow.
“Seriously,” she insisted. “You’re not my type.”
His other brow rose to match the first. “How would you know?” he challenged.
“How does anyone know? You just…know.”
“That’s not very scientific.”
“Huh?” Her brain couldn’t seem to catch up with the conversation. She was supposed to be reading his damn fortune. “You’ll become very rich and live happily ever after.”
Pushing her chair back, Abby rose and skirted the table. Shane was right there with her.
“Oh no,” he rumbled, sidestepping into her path. “We’re not done yet.”
She swallowed hard and tilted her head back to look up at him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Just forget I said anything.”
His slow smile made her shiver. “No.” Lifting his hand, his fingertips brushed from her shoulder to the hollow of her throat in a featherlight caress. Goose bumps flared across her skin. “You say I’m not your type. I say I might be.”
Her mouth fell open. “You?”
“Honey, you’re hell on a man’s ego.” He cupped the back of her neck, wrapped an arm around her waist, and tugged her closer.
Abby was so shocked by his advance she didn’t know what to say. Then he brushed his lips across hers, and she melted. The subtle scent of his cologne teased her nostrils, making her breasts swell and ache with longing.
“You only date beautiful women,” she whispered against his mouth, her hands moving without volition to his lean hips.
“You’re a beautiful woman.” He tilted his head and deepened his kiss, his tongue gliding along hers in a lush, warm lick. She moaned, helpless to the realization of her fantasy.
“Get a room!” someone shouted with a laugh. The effect was the same as a bucket of ice water. Abby yanked away, hazarding a glance at Shane before turning quickly and fleeing down the hall.
“Abby.”
She didn’t look back, she couldn’t. The way he was looking at her…
&nb
sp; Heat swept across her skin. They’d been neighbors for five long months, and he’d never looked at her like that. She’d seriously consider that he was inebriated except she’d tasted his mouth and knew that wasn’t the case.
She lifted shaking fingertips to her tingling lips. Lord, the man knows how to kiss.
“Abby.” Warm arms caught her about the waist, and she flailed a moment in surprise. “Wait.”
Shane’s breath gusted across her ear. The feel of his bare chest pressing against the nearly naked length of her back was both heaven and hell. “We’re not done yet.”
Chapter 3
AS SHANE’S LARGE HAND SLIPPED BENEATH ABBY’S TOP AND cupped her breast, she whimpered softly. The party was behind them, just a few feet away, and Shane Markham was fondling her intimately. His fingers tugged at her hard nipple in a rhythmic milking motion that made her pussy slick with desire.
“Shane,” she breathed, her head falling back against his shoulder. His firm lips pressed to the side of her neck, his tongue flicking rapidly over her fluttering pulse. “What are you doing?”
He rolled his hips into her, revealing the hard swell of his erection. “You say I’m not your type, Abby?” Shane’s voice was a rough rumble of sound. “You want a lover who can fuck you all night, in all the ways you want, and all the ways you didn’t know to want.” His fingers tightened on her tormented nipple and his teeth sank gently into the tender flesh of her neck. “I’m your man, baby.”
Writhing in his embrace, Abby was torn between finding out what caused the drastic change in Shane and just going along for the ride. In the end, her deep craving for him won out.
“The party,” she reminded softly, gasping when he cupped her pussy through her costume.
“We both need to take the edge off. You know we can’t go back in there like this.”
“You mean a Quickie?”