She fell into a rhythm, stroking his shaft, circling the velvety head, and then moving back down. Liquid dribbled onto her thighs, and she wondered how much hotter she could get. Though far from a virgin, she was in uncharted waters.
“If you’d known—” he laughed breathlessly and thrust his hips upward as she milked him with her hand “—you might not have appreciated my stellar mind.”
“You never know,” she murmured. Cassie offered him the softest of smiles. “Tell me what you’d like. Anything, dearest. Just tell me.”
“You on top.”
“Sounds wonderful.” She grinned. Anticipation of how he’d feel inside made her heart beat double-time. “Let me find a condom.”
“Darling.” He laid a hand on either side of her face. “I gave you my blood to save your life. Quite aside from that, I wouldn’t mind at all if we made a child.” He kissed her tenderly. “You told me a long time ago you had an IUD. Maybe, once things feel a bit more normal, you’ll decide you don’t need it anymore.”
She scooted back so she could focus on him. What she saw melted her heart. “Jeremy Winslow, are you asking me to marry you?”
His green eyes danced merrily, “Why, yes, I suppose I am.”
“I accept. Be warned! I’ll hold you to it, even after we’re out of bed.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Never doubted it for a moment. Come here, wench. Where were we?”
“Didn’t you say something about me on top?” Grinning mischievously, she moved so her leg draped over his body. He placed his hands on her hips and helped her straddle him, being careful of her injured arm.
Cassie sank onto his shaft, her body closing around him. Scarcely recognizing the wild sounds filling the room as her own, she took him as deeply as she could, wriggling for good measure when he bottomed out inside her. The sensations were incredible, as if his cock was ablaze with tiny streamers that delighted her insides almost unbearably. She rocked against him, moving up and down. He placed his hands on her hips to set a rhythm. Back bowed with desire that shot liquid fire through her, she rubbed her nipples, tweaking them hard as she got closer and closer to another climax.
His breathing grew ragged. Jeremy moaned and then gasped some words in the Celtic tongue she recognized from her mother’s spells. His cock swelled, growing harder and harder within her. She opened her eyes to a swirling vortex in her familiar room. Everything was awash in iridescent light. She felt him spasm once, and then again. Her own peak rushed in on the heels of his, all heat and fire and stars.
When her body stopped thrumming like a well-tuned harp, she collapsed on top of him, panting. A disembodied part of her brain wondered if there was enough air in the room for her to ever catch her breath again.
“Cassie, mo croi, my heart, my love.” He half sang to her, English mingled with Gaelic. She wondered just what kind of spell he’d cast—and then hoped it would bind them forever. He tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her face and neck in between words.
Daylight streamed into the room. Something irrevocable shifted. Jeremy hadn’t been kidding when he said this was the first day of a whole new life for them. Feeling silly and giddy and sticky, she finally pushed away from him.
“I’m up for that coffee now.” She couldn’t stop smiling. “After a shower.”
“Whatever milady wants,” he quipped. Jeremy swung his long, well-muscled legs over the side of the bed and stood. “You’ve made me a very happy man. Do I get to wash all of you?”
“You’re leering at me.” She chuckled. “The odd thing is I think I like it. Uh-uh, no mutual washing. I’ll wash me, and you can wash you. I need to keep my bandage dry. Any more sex and I’ll be sore.”
He smiled at her. “We can’t have that. Although,” he paused for effect, “magic’s good for patching most anything up.”
“Look at us.” She led the way into the bathroom. “We’re grinning like a couple of fools.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re happy.” A serious note entered his voice.
She ducked beneath the curtain of water from the handheld shower. “We deserve to be.” She wetted, soaped, and rinsed as she traded soap, water, and the washcloth back and forth with him.
He shook water out of his blond hair, stepped out of the tub, and reached for a towel. “Yes.” He still sounded somber. “That we do. This has been one of the longest years of my life. I was gearing up to, ah, declare myself about the time Tyler inveigled his way into your life—”
“Why’d it take you so long to make up your mind?” she interrupted, curious, as she finished rinsing shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water.
“I had to get permission from the Druid Council.” He looked uncomfortable. “They don’t often allow us to bond with mortals.” Shrugging, he added, “You’re not even supposed to know the Council exists, but under the current circumstances—”
She thought about her mother’s long period of celibacy once Fran left and finally understood. Not everything, but more than she had. “So their rules apply to all Celtic magic wielders?” At his nod, she asked, “Will I be part of the Council?”
He nodded. “Not on the Council per se, but you’ll be expected to attend general meetings. I’m certain your mother will want to introduce you.
“The other thing I suppose I ought to tell you is I only got permission to wed you day before yesterday. Even though I was planning to court you a year ago, I would’ve been breaking Druid law.” He favored her with a rakish grin. “Just so you know what you’re getting into here. I have principles, but I stand up for what I want too, even if it flies in the face of what’s expected.”
“I’ll risk it.” She grinned back. “Always did like my men with a dash of sedition.”
“I didn’t figure your infatuation with Tyler would last.” Jeremy handed her a towel. “Then your mother collapsed and embroiled us in fae-spawned enchantment.”
“Why didn’t you say something about Tyler sooner?” she asked, moving back into her room to root around in her closet for something semi-clean.
“What was I going to say?” He spread his hands in a self-deprecating gesture. “‘Hey, Cass. Your boyfriend’s a fraud.’ At the front end of things, you wouldn’t have believed me.” He scooped up his shirt and pants from the floor and proceeded to get back into them. “I did say something when things got so bad I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“What about me thinking he was a demon? Was he?”
“Some of the fae did join forces with them. If the energy in this house was any indicator, Tyler was probably involved.” Jeremy exhaled sharply. “It’s a long story, and not a very pretty one. Let’s not sully today with darkness.”
In her secret heart, she agreed. They’d dealt with enough evil. Now was a time to heal. She unwrapped the towel from around her hair and tossed it over a chair. Then she wriggled into some jeans and a flowered sweat top and held out her arms. “None of that matters. We can’t do any of it over. All we can do is move on from now. I have Mom back. And we have each other.”
“Yes.” He moved into the circle of her arms and returned her embrace. “We do, and we always will.”
“Blood to blood,” she murmured against his shoulder.
“Uh-huh.” He kissed her lazily, taking his time. When her hips moved against his of their own volition, she pulled away.
“Coffee,” she said firmly and tugged her long, wet hair into a scrunchie. “And breakfast. Would you rather cook or go out?”
“Let’s see what Eleanora wants,” he suggested as he pushed open the door into the hall.
Cassie crowded close on his heels.
Coincidentally, or perhaps not—after all, Eleanora was psychic—the door to her room cracked open, and she strode through it. A colorful scarf spanned her waist, breaking up the black of her clothing. Her dark hair gleamed in sunlight pouring into the upstairs hall.
“Good morning, children.” Eleanora walked toward them, Murietta perched on her should
er and Hector bringing up the rear. “I couldn’t help but hear you talking about breakfast. Going out would be simply lovely. I’ve been trapped in this house for close to a year.”
“There’s that little omelet place you used to like,” Cassie suggested.
“Perfect, darling.” Eleanora headed for the stairs. “Grab your coats and I’ll meet you in the garage.” She turned and looked meaningfully over her shoulder at Jeremy. “We can plot our strategy over that amazing Yogi tea they make.”
“I suppose I’m the object of that strategy.” Cassie took Jeremy’s hand, and they followed Eleanora down the stairs. “After all, I’ll need lots of magic lessons. Then there’s the whole Druid society thing. If that wasn’t enough, Father should be here shortly to add his two cents’ worth to the mix.”
Jeremy quirked an eyebrow and laughed. “See,” he managed when he could talk again. “Psychic already and we haven’t even begun to train you yet. Be sure to keep hold of my hand while we’re at the restaurant. I’ll redirect all that energy, so it doesn’t leak out.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Good thing you thought about it, because I sure didn’t. Right after breakfast I'll need a crash course in how to control it myself.”
“Done.” He stopped in front of the library, bent his head, and kissed the tip of her nose.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head until he closed his mouth over hers. He teased, nipped, and licked. She clung to him, kissing him with an intensity that stole her breath—and her intentions not to make love again quite so soon.
He caressed her shoulders and back before drawing her body tight against his growing erection.
The insistent blat of a car horn filled the air, and she drew away, laughing. “Guess Mom’s anxious to get out of here.”
He brushed his thumb over her lower lip and kissed her lightly. “Probably shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
Cassie laughed. “Yeah, she might turn us into toads.”
“Or parrots.”
“Awk, magic man. Awk. Parrots good.”
Cassie ran lightly to Murietta’s perch. “Not just good.” She stroked the bird’s feathered head. “They’re the best.”
Blat. Blat. Blat.
“Gotta run,” she told Murietta and joined Jeremy in the hall.
“I don’t recall Eleanora having so little patience.” Jeremy grinned.
Cassie shrugged and led the way through the kitchen and into the garage. “We’ve got to cut her some slack, she’s had a hell of a year. Plus, if she didn’t fuss a bit, you and I would’ve ended up back in bed. And she knew it.”
“It’s going to be interesting having a psychic mother-in-law.”
“Having second thoughts?” Cassie tossed a glance over her shoulder.
“Never.”
“Good!” She trotted to the Aston Martin and got into the passenger seat. “I’d hate to sic Mother on you.”
“What exactly would I do to him?” Eleanora raised one black brow.
“Make him—”
Jeremy leaned his head in the open window and silenced her with a kiss.
“For the love of the goddess, get in the fucking car,” Eleanora sputtered. “You two have your entire lives to bed one another.”
Cassie couldn’t stop smiling as the car pulled out of the driveway. “You betcha,” she told her mother. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Music to my ears,” Jeremy chimed from the back seat. “Eleanora, let’s plan a Druid wedding. Right after the Christmas holidays.”
“Oh my goodness, yes,” she replied. “A huge one. All your people, and all mine…”
Cassie shut her eyes and listened to them chat about the future. Emotion spilled through her with hope as its leading edge. The nightmare was truly over. Now was a time to heal. A time for love and joy and family.
“I’m so glad you’re back, Mom.” Cassie broke in.
“We covered that ground last night, dear,” Eleanora met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’m delighted myself. Fran will be here in time for Christmas, and we’ll celebrate more thoroughly then.”
Cassie laughed. “Guess he’ll get to give the bride away.”
“He left before you got to know him well,” Eleanora’s tone turned serious, “but he’d like nothing better.” She turned the car into a small parking lot and brought it to a stop. “You two scoot in and get us a nice, private table. I’ll be there as soon as I maneuver this beast into one of their skimpy parking places.”
Jeremy opened Cassie’s door, and she gave him her hand. Leaning into him, she floated into the restaurant. “Just a little midnight magic,” she murmured, smiling.
“What was that?” He glanced at her.
“Last night.” She squeezed his hand. “We had ourselves some midnight magic.”
A young woman walked toward them, the corners of her mouth twitching, and a stack of menus in her arms. “Welcome,” she said. “I have a perfect corner table in the back—just in case some of that magic made it to this morning.”
“Thanks!” Jeremy nodded her way. “My mother-in-law to be will be joining us. Tends to put the kibosh on that sort of thing.”
The hostess winked broadly. “I understand completely. Follow me.”
The End
About Ann Gimpel
Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines, magazines, and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance to science fiction. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients. Now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over 40 books to date, with several more planned for 2017 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and wolf hybrids round out her family.
www.anngimpel.com
A Cleopatra Hill Christmas by Christine Pope
About A Cleopatra Hill Christmas
The Witches of Cleopatra Hill
Connor and Angela Wilcox return to Angela's hometown of Jerome, Arizona, to spend the holiday with the McAllister witch clan and attend Lucas Wilcox's and Margot Emory's wedding. But complications arise as they try to juggle new parenthood, busybody relatives, and romantic disappointments in this lighthearted holiday novella.
Chapter 1
Connor leaned up against the dresser in our bedroom and watched me, worry clear in his green eyes. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”
I kept on folding my clothes and stacking them neatly in my suitcase. “Completely sure. Besides, I already told everyone we’d be there.”
“But the twins aren’t even three weeks old — ”
After setting a pair of jeans down in the suitcase, I turned back toward him. His forehead was creased with a frown, so I abandoned the packing and went to my husband, then put my arms around his waist and pressed myself close.
“I know how old they are,” I said softly. “And both Dr. Ruiz and Eleanor say they’re fine and that taking them down to Jerome shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
Connor brushed a kiss against the top of my head. Warmth flowed through me, welcome, telling me I was almost ready to be with him again. Actually, I’d felt ready several days ago, but my ob-gyn recommended waiting at least four weeks before attempting to have sex, despite my miraculous recovery from the C-section I’d had on December first.
Well, it probably seemed miraculous to her. But of course I couldn’t explain to a civilian doctor that my recovery had gotten a little assist from Eleanor Garnett, the Wilcox clan’s healer. If she’d wanted to, she could have healed my incision all at once, but since I’d been getting regular checkups from the doctor in addition to seeing the clan healer, explaining how my surgery scars just went poof! might have been a little awkward. Instead, Eleanor was quietly coaxing the healing proces
s along, making it seem as if I was recovering very quickly, but not so quickly that my ob-gyn would think it suspicious. At least, that was the plan, although I could tell from the speculative look Dr. Ruiz had given me at my last appointment that she knew something wasn’t quite on the up and up, even if she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Okay,” Connor said. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” I told him, then backed away slightly so I could gaze up at his face. I would have really liked to know his secret for avoiding dark circles after being kept up by the twins’ midnight feedings. Some mornings I looked as if someone had punched me in both eyes. Thank the Goddess for concealer. “Anyway, the entire Wilcox clan has gotten to see Ian and Emily, so it’s only fair that the McAllisters should get their turn.”
He couldn’t really argue with that. True, my Aunt Rachel and her S.O. — all right, fiancé, since she’d finally agreed to get married after seeing him for years — had come up to see the twins, and so had a few more of the more adventurous among my extended family, including my cousin Kirby, who’d been among my “babysitters” after it became clear that Damon Wilcox, the former primus of the Wilcoxes, had unhealthy designs on me. But the majority of the McAllister clan, although outwardly accepting of the changes that had taken place over the past few months, still didn’t seem too keen on venturing into Wilcox territory. And they had just as much right to see their prima’s new babies as the Wilcoxes did.
“Anyway,” I went on, “Rachel and I went to all that trouble to put together a nursery in the house there. We need to use it. We did promise everyone that we were going to try to split our time evenly between the two places.”
“All right, all right,” Connor said with a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “As long as we’re back in Flagstaff for the pinecone drop on New Year’s. Eleanor already promised to babysit.”
Alphas for the Holidays Page 87