I opened my eyes and found Cris’ eyes mere inches from my own. We gazed at each other for a moment and then I raised a hand to the back of her head and pulled her gently toward me. Her lips were as soft and warm as a dream. This time I knew when she pulled back.
“That was nice,” she said.
“Yes.”
“As I said, I’m good at healing, but maybe later I can get down to seducing you.”
I chuckled. “If you can heal as well as you kiss…” I let the statement fade away.
Cris stood and reached out a hand. I took it and she pulled me to my feet. We stood together for a moment so close that her breasts pressed lightly against my chest. Then without another word, she took my hand and led me out of the living room, down a long hallway, through a master bedroom and into a large bath with an open shower to one side and a big beautiful claw-foot tub to the other.
She released my hand and started the water running in the tub. When tendrils of steam rose from the water, she poured something scented from three different bottles near the tub then came back to where I stood in the middle of the room. She set our glasses on the sink counter and turned to face me.
Cris pushed my leather jacket off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then, starting at the top, she unbuttoned my shirt, taking deliberation with each button. My shirt fell to the floor on my jacket.
Her eyes widen at the scars and bruises on my torso.
“Poor baby,” she said as she kissed two of the more prominent bruises. She loosened my belt and then unsnapped my jeans.
I foolishly tried to protest. She placed a finger against my lips and said, “Hush, let Doctor Ronue take care of you.”
She slid my jeans and shorts past my knees and for the first time in memory, I was glad I was too exhausted to even support an erection. Cris moved me to the edge of the tub, where I sat; my bare cheeks against the cold of the cast iron tub. She knelt at my feet and slipped off my boots; she set them aside and finished removing my clothes.
For the second time that day, I was naked in front of a beautiful woman. She took a step back, gave my torn and bruised body a careful analytical examination, and then helped me into the tub.
As I sank into the rising bubbles, Cris said, “I’ll get you another drink and put these things in the washer. Maybe the blood will come out, maybe not. Don’t fall asleep and drown while I’m gone.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
I leaned back against the end of the tub, closed my eyes, and invoked my own healing spell. I wasn’t as good as some of the Wiccan witches I’d come across over the years, but I could speed up my healing.
I was still concentrating on healing when Cris’ footsteps on the tile floor distracted me. She fairly marched across the bath and stopped beside the tub.
I was already reaching for my fresh glass of bourbon when I felt her hand touch the top of my head. The next instant she forced my head under the water. She pressed down for a couple of seconds before I could grab the tub edges and pull my head above the water.
I spat water and bubbles from my mouth and glared upwards.
Cynthia stared down at me.
CHAPTER 20
There was a moment of silence and then I heard ice clinking against glass. Behind Cynthia, Cris stood in the open doorway, a glass of bourbon in each hand.
“Cynthia – I hadn’t expected you home this early,” Cris said.
Cynthia didn’t turn her gaze from me, as she responded, “Obviously not. What do you think you’re doing?”
I wiped foam from my face. “Taking a bath. Did you want to join me?”
From the tightening of the skin around her eyes and lips, I guessed no.
“I was talking to Cris,” Cynthia said.
A second later, I was under the water again. Sure, I could have resisted, but that would have only pissed her off more. I let her hold me under the water for a few seconds without attempting to rise. Then the pressure eased and I surfaced.
I wiped my face clean again and found Cris holding Cynthia’s wrist. She now held both glasses in her left hand. The women stared at each other like boxers before the first round.
I held out my hand and said, “About that drink, I would certainly appreciate it.”
Both women looked at me with varying degrees of astonishment. Not that I don’t appreciate a good cat fight, I was just too tired to endure the screaming and hair pulling that it’d bring with it. Besides, there was a real threat that some of the hair might be mine.
“Look, Cynthia, nothing happened. Cris was kind enough to let me use the bath and fix me a drink. That’s all,” I said.
“Bullshit. I know Cris. She has a very liberal attitude when it comes to my boyfriends.”
“Boyfriends?” I asked.
“Don’t get smug,” she snapped. “You want me. You’ve been obvious about it. Now I find you soaking in the tub while Cris fetches you a drink. I expect she would have been climbing in with you in a few more minutes.”
Cris hadn’t let go of Cynthia’s wrist, a point I noted with some thanks. I reached out, took the glasses from Cris’s hand, and sipped from one.
“Cuz, I don’t see what you’re so upset about. We’ve shared lovers before.”
I spit bourbon across the tub.
I never knew alcohol breaks down the surface tension of bubbles. Far too many bubbles burst under the onslaught of the whiskey. I quickly slid more bubbles into the appropriate place.
Cynthia glared at Cris. “Did you have to bring that up in front of Rafe?”
“No, no, please, tell me more,” I said.
“It wasn’t what you’re thinking,” Cynthia said.
“No? Well, explain it to me.” I passed one of the glasses back to Cris and then leaned back against the tub.
Cris and I sipped whiskey and watched Cynthia.
“Damn it, it was just the one guy and it wasn’t at the same time,” Cynthia said.
I remained silent, both amused and suddenly not as tired as I had been. What can I say? I’m a guy.
“It...It’s none of your damned business anyway. It happened and that’s it. That has nothing to do with finding Cris here with you.”
“About that, how did you happen to find us here?” I asked.
“She didn’t tell you this is my house?” Cynthia asked.
I stared at Cris.
She shrugged. “Where else would I stay when I’m in Huntsville? Besides, her parents gave us an equal share of the house when they moved to Key Largo. I lived with them since I was twelve. We were raised as sisters in this house.”
“But you haven’t been back in two years. You could have at least told him.”
“I figured you must have already brought him back here, if not, what difference would it make? You’ve had every opportunity to bed him; what were you waiting for?” Cris asked.
“Not every Wiccan jumps in the sack on the first date,” Cynthia hissed.
“That self-righteous crap doesn’t impress me Cuz. If you want him take him, otherwise I’m going to.”
Cynthia inhaled deeply for what was certain to be a blast of vitriol.
I jumped in. “Excuse me, ladies, but before you fight over me, couldn’t we get back to that share and share alike concept. I must admit I’m intrigued.”
Cynthia yanked her wrist free from Cris’s grip and in another second, I was spitting bubbles for the third time. I managed to keep my drink above water; I don’t like my bourbon diluted.
When I got my eyes clear of the suds again, it was just Cris and me in the bathroom.
“Did you have to say that?” Cris asked.
“Not really, but she was mad at you and it’s really my fault. I just wanted to redirect her ire. Do you think it worked?”
“Oh, I’d say so. Luckily for you she doesn’t hold a grudge,” Cris said.
“She’s a novice, there’s not a lot of threat there.”
“Not her. Men, must you always be this conceited?”
“I
guess I’m missing something,” I said.
“If she were really mad she’d be calling Abigail right now. Cynthia may not be able to do much more than muss your hair with her magic, but Abigail could give you trouble. You know that.”
I felt an urge to deny that anyone in Huntsville could take down a Wanderer, but Cris knew me. She knew I could best Abigail in a fair fight, not that I ever fight fair. She also knew that the last thing I wanted was for the killer or killers of those young women to complete their plans. If I had to fight Abigail too, I couldn’t be sure I’d still be strong enough to handle the killers.
“Okay, you got me. What are we going to do about this mess?” I asked.
“I promised you a healing. I’ll leave you to your bath while I prepare a few things.”
“I thought you were going to join me.”
She smile and bent to give me a light kiss on the cheek. “That was before Cynthia made such a scene. Look, you’re cute and all, and I’d like nothing more than to take you to bed, but Cynthia appears to have real feelings for you. I can’t interfere with that.”
“I’m not what Cynthia is looking for. I won’t be here long and then I’m back on the road. If she’s looking for something real, I’m not it.”
Cris smiled. “Then maybe you can swing by Atlanta when you leave. I could give you a reason to stay awhile.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Cris. I rarely get to pick my next city. I get the calling one day and I’m on the road again.”
“You never get a vacation? Have you no free will?”
“Free will? What’s that? I didn’t choose this life, but I don’t seem to be able to leave it either. I’ll be a Wanderer until the day I die whether it’s a hundred years from now or tomorrow. I control my actions, but not the direction my life takes. I can’t refuse Fate’s summoning anymore than I can stop the sun from rising in the east.”
Cris smiled again, but it was a sad, pitying smile and I should have been insulted, but I wasn’t. “You poor thing, all that power and yet a slave to fate. The offer holds.” She ran her fingers through my hair and her smiled turned coy. “I’ve always liked mature men. They have so much to teach.”
I had to laugh. “You are something else.”
“I know. Go on now, finish your bath. You should rinse off in the shower and wrap a towel around yourself before you come out. I don’t want you setting Cynthia off again.”
“And where should I come?”
“Just into this bedroom, we only have three. Cynthia and I each have our own, but we leave the master bedroom for her parents when they’re in town. It’s the guest room when they’re not here.”
“Oh? And will you be joining me?”
She smiled and her eyes lit with a suggestive glow. “We’ll see, Raphael, we’ll see.”
Cris left. I finished my drink while the water cooled and wondered if I’d be spending the night alone. It would probably be for the best. I needed rest and healing far more than I needed a warm body in the bed. I took a quick shower to wash off the soap, and then dried with the towel Cris left, wrapping it around my waist before leaving the bathroom.
Cris sat on the bed. A small case sat beside her. Her gaze wandered across me and I decided that maybe I did need a warm body.
“That for me?” I asked indicating her case.
“Yes and I guess that’s for me?”
“What?”
I followed her gaze to the front of my towel. “Oh.”
She chuckled softly and stood. Pulling the top covers back, Cris indicated the bed. “Lie down, between the sheets.”
“Ah, the towel’s wet,” I said.
“Then take it off. I’ve already seen everything.”
It was my time to chuckle. “Yes, Doctor Ma’am.”
I dropped the towel with as little fanfare as possible and stretched out on the sheet. To my surprise, she pulled the top sheet up to my navel. I stared at her quizzically.
“I can’t work with distractions,” Cris said.
“And I’m distracting?”
“You bet your sweet tush.”
“I have a sweet tush?” I asked surprised.
She laughed. “Just hush and let me work before I forget why I came in here.”
I kept quiet, but I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
Cris lit a green candle the old fashion way, she used a match. She opened a jar, dipped two fingers into it, and they emerged with a thin, cream-colored gel. Seeing my curiosity, she held the gel close to my nose. I caught scents of sandalwood, rosemary, lilac, and...hemlock?
My curiosity grew and she answered my unasked question. “The hemlock is to kill infections, the concentration isn’t enough to hurt you.”
I concentrated on her aura and found no ill intent or deception. I nodded and relaxed.
Cris spread the gel on my open wounds, rubbing it gently into each spot until it was absorbed into my flesh. As she worked, she chanted a spell. It was old, a primary healing spell that crossed the boundaries between the forms of magic. After all, even the darkest of creatures needs to be healed so why would healing be limited to earth or white magic?
When she finished my front, she gave me a nudge, and I rolled over. She kept chanting as she finished with the open wounds. I turned my head to face her and opened my eyes a slit as she set that jar aside and picked up another. The new salve she rubbed across my bruised areas, stopping only once to have me turn back over.
She hadn’t finished when exhaustion overtook me and I slept.
I awoke to a dark room. Something had triggered my personal ward and woke me. I lay still, listening for who or what was in the room with me. I felt the sheet lift and someone slid into the bed beside me. “What?”
A soft whisper hushed me. A soft feminine hand pushed lightly against my shoulder and I rolled away from my guest. Warm, softer, and even more feminine flesh pressed up against my bare backside.
I guessed that Cris had changed her mind, unless this was part of her healing process. She shifted against me, moving her body until every square inch of her molded into me. Her arm slid under mine and her hand came to rest directly above my heart. First her hand and then the rest of her body grew warm. I relaxed and gave myself into this earth witch’s healing magic.
I awoke again to a room that wasn’t as dark as before, but either the sun had yet to rise or someone had invested heavily in room-darkening shades. Flesh moved against mine. Feminine fingers played with the thin hair on my chest and brushed lightly against each of my nipples. Butterfly kisses caressed my nape while her fingers drifted down across my belly, softly circled my innie, and then surrounded my member. I gave a little moan as she squeezed ever so gently. I reached behind me and my hand found the sweetest, roundest buttocks I’d ever had the pleasure of caressing. A soft sound came from her throat and hot lips touched my shoulder leaving a craving wherever they touched.
This oddly reversed foreplay went on for a time until I tried to roll toward her. She slid away and let me roll onto my back, then her right leg was over me and in an instant, she was atop me. Her hands cupped my face and her lips found mine. Her knees pressed against my sides as she leaned into the kiss. There was something familiar about the kiss, but not exactly what I’d expected, and then she eased herself back onto me. We both gasped at the sensation and I became lost in the blissfulness of the moment. Her long hair flowed around my face caressing me as softly as fog. Then her mouth devoured mine.
Later, she lay atop me, her forehead against my cheek, her lips lightly brushing my neck, her breath a scintillating exhaust of pleasure against my skin. I stroked the small of her back with one hand and gently caressed her cheek with the other. It was a fantastic end to an eventful night.
“Now wasn’t that worth waiting for?” Cynthia asked.
Okay, it was even more amazing than I thought it was. I had a moment’s hesitation during which I racked my mind to remember if I had called out Cris’s name during intercourse. God save me, I co
uldn’t remember. I managed, “Worth every minute of waiting, every hour of anticipation.”
“Yeah, but I bet you didn’t know which one of us crawled into your bed until just now.”
“What? Ridiculous. Outlandish. I am insulted by the implication.”
She giggled like a teenager. “I was only partially serious. Cris told me how injured you were after she’d finished working on you last night. She’s good, but she didn’t think you’d be completely healed for at least twenty-four hours. We determined one of us needed to complete the process and since I had first claim on you, it was my choice as to who was going to climb in with you.”
“And this was part of your cure?” I asked.
She yanked out a chest hair. I winced but didn’t complain.
“No, doofus. This was a fantastic way to start the day. It had nothing to do with your healing. I couldn’t have bounced up and down on you in the condition you were in last night.”
“Speaking of last night. I got the impression that you were thoroughly upset because you thought Cris and I were getting too friendly,” I said.
“Too friendly is right. It’s not that you were physically attracted to her and vice versa. That’s to be expected with Cris and you’re a guy; what chance would you have resisting her if she decided she wanted you?”
“Hey, I have willpower.”
She placed a finger against my lips. “Hush, lover. You’re all ruled by your penises. You’ve only known me a few days and can’t have developed an unswerving loyalty to me in such a brief time. I don’t know if any man ever does. If a woman really wants a man, she’ll get him; it’s just a matter of time.”
“I don’t understand. Then why were you so upset?”
“Because, lover, you were too friendly with her. You revealed things to her that you kept from me. I don’t know anything about your background other than the bullshit you’ve been shoveling out since you got here. Abigail knows you’re not everything you claim to be and I think Cris saw your soul. She knows everything there is to know about you and yet you haven’t been willing to share any of it with me.” She paused and her voice sounded strained when she added. “That hurts.”
Wanderers: Ragnarök Page 19