“She’s right. It is the witching hour,” Astrid said. “I have to take her back while I still can. Declan and the council will punish her, and she’ll be kept at bay, at least for a while, but she’s right about our powers.” Astrid looked off into the distance, brushing her loose curls back from her face, her bangle bracelets tinkling on her wrist. “They’re fading. Eventually, if the three of us are not reunited, we will wither away.”
“Just like she said.”
Astrid nodded. “She won’t give up.”
“Will you be safe?” Storie asked. She’d just found her sister; she certainly didn’t want to lose her again.
Instead of answering, Astrid gave her a quick hug. “I’ll be back and we’ll figure out what to do.”
“Will Declan come with you?”
She shrugged. “He can’t, at least not while he’s on the council of elders. But at some point, yes, he’ll have to if we’re to unite our power.”
Storie stood by Reid, tears burning behind her eyelids as Astrid glided toward their mother and crouched next to her. She muttered something inaudible, the air rippled, and they were gone.
Chapter 20
Storie cast a nervous glance at Reid, who was inspecting the spot Millicent and Astrid had been moments before. The moonlight broke through the cloud cover, the lake shimmering from the sliver of light. He knew she was a witch, and he hadn’t run for the hills. Thick, soft, dark hair dusted the neckline of his soaked shirt. Smile lines etched either side of his eyes. That little tuft of hair under his lower lip sent her stomach into a frenzy.
But did he really need her?
His tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve. A charge shot through her body as she watched him. She wanted him, wanted to be connected with him. Never wanted to lose him.
“You okay, darlin’?”
She blinked, her vision coming into focus. He stood in front of her, his eyes dark and smoldering in the bright moonlight. “I’ve spent years imaging how it would feel to meet my mother.” She forced a laugh. “Let me tell you, my dreams were nothing like this.”
“Your father tried to protect you with a pact.”
She nodded. “He didn’t even know about my brother and sister. She wasn’t much of a mother.”
They stood together in weighty silence. After a minute Storie broke it. “You kept your dad’s secret. You’d do anything for him.”
He nodded. “I would.”
“And I just sent my mother away.”
“You did what you had to. She’s a…a witch.”
Storie held her breath before asking the next question. “Do you believe that?”
His gaze met hers. “I witnessed it, Storiebook.”
“And…?” She’d felt like an outsider her entire life, never fitting in, always on the run with her father. Mortals and witches don’t mix. But that wasn’t the whole truth. Her father and mother hadn’t worked out, but that didn’t mean she and Reid couldn’t find common ground. If he accepted her…
“And I like the spell you have me under,” he said with a wink.
She drew up, half laughing, half indignant. “I don’t have you under a spell!”
His lips drew into a line, and the intensity of his gaze seared through her until her blood boiled and her core ached. Her smile faded. She might as well have been naked to him. The rain had soaked her T-shirt and it clung to her body like a second skin, and she had a feeling of déjà vu. They’d been in this very place the night before she’d left Whiskey Creek the first time.
He’d witnessed her magic then, and she’d taunted him with her body. She’d been in control then, barely, but now her mind raced, her pulse throbbed, and heat swelled in her. It coursed through her body until she was a swirling mass of fluttering desire.
He closed the gap between them. “You’re a witch,” he said, as if he could read the worry on her mind.
Her heart slid to her throat. If he still wanted her, she wouldn’t walk away this time. “Does that scare you?”
“Nothing about you could scare me, Storiebook.”
She smiled, her voice soft. “It scares me, especially now.”
“It’s what’s always made you feel different?”
She nodded as she slid her hand under his shirt, spreading her palm against his muscled abdomen. She let it rest there for a few seconds before sliding it down. The thin line of hair leading to the waistband of his jeans tickled her fingers. She swallowed, holding her breath. She’d been waiting for him to chastise her for lying to him about her magic, expecting him to turn and walk away like she’d turned and walked away from him, but he didn’t do either.
No, he dragged his smoldering gaze back up and looked into the depths of her eyes, a wolfish expression on his face that sent a shiver up her spine and a tingling sensation dancing over her body.
The corner of his mouth tilted up wickedly and he dipped his head, bringing his lips to hers. “Looks like we’re back where we started.”
A witch. Reid shook his head, that aspect of who she was settling into his reality.
“Storie Rae.” He pulled her closer, savoring the feel of their bodies pressed together. “I love you, you know,” he said, the moonlight casting a soft light over her.
A shudder wound through her. “But the magic…” she said, trailing off as if she were afraid of the barrier that might create between them.
As if he’d forgotten.
“With magic. Without magic. None of it matters. It’s you I love, not your powers.”
“But my mother…she’ll be back.”
“Tell me what happened,” he said, drawing her closer.
She paused, looking afraid she’d spook him.
“Don’t be afraid, darlin’. I’m here to stay.”
Storie sucked in a deep breath, nodded as if she finally believed him. “She told me she and my father made a pact that she would stay away. After he passed, the pact was broken.”
A pact to stay away from your own daughter. That was neck-and-neck with walking out and simply not ever coming back. “So you never knew her at all?”
Storie shook her head. “She gave my father seeds to her favorite flower. They’re delicate and sweet and remind me of cinnamon and nutmeg and…something else I can’t really describe, but—” She backed away. “Oh! The astrids! Your dad! That’s what my dad gave him. The oil from the flowers. It’s like…”
“Magic?” He laughed. Even after everything she’d been through tonight, and over the last few days, months…years…she was thinking about what he needed. What Jiggs needed.
“We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Jiggs’ll make his deal with the spirits company and let me tell you, he’ll be a bitch to live with. And I’ll have to put up with him.” He shook his head, still not quite believing that everything had worked out so perfectly. “A moonshine millionaire. I never saw that coming.”
“I’ve been growing those flowers since I was a kid,” Storie said. “I never knew they had power.”
“I bet there’s a lot you don’t know, darlin’.”
“Astrid said she’ll come back. To teach me, I hope.”
“You just keep practicing what you know. It’ll all work out fine.” His adrenaline from the fight with Storie’s mother was crashing and it was all he could do to think straight. Desire like he’d never known filled him completely. He was done talking. For now, he watched in fascination as she stepped away from him, turned to the Jeep, pointed, and notched her wrist.
She faltered, as if she had a sudden lapse of energy, but then she moved again and a quilt from the backseat floated through the air like a flying carpet, settling on the wet, sandy shore in front of them.
When he turned back to her, her white ribbed tank was knotted under her breasts, her belly button ring glimmering as it caught the moonlight, beckoning his touch.
Another déjà vu moment hit, sending him back to the first time he’d seen her looking like this. How one woman could elicit such a range of emotions, from lust to friendship to st
ability to a future, was a mystery, but they all surged through him, intertwining into a mass of love.
He made a sound deep in his throat. “I kinda like this magical thing,” he said, closing the distance between them.
She stood in front of him, her soaked tank top clinging to her perfect breasts, her nipples hard buttons straining against the sheer, wet cotton. She probably could have used some spell to dry the fabric, but she hadn’t. It was evident that she had a thing about tormenting him, and truth be told, he didn’t mind this particular kind of torture.
Her chest rose and fell as her breath grew ragged under his searing gaze. In one quick movement, he reached behind his neck, grabbed hold of his shirt, and yanked it off, dropping it to the ground.
Her fingers danced over the intricate design of the tattoo on his right arm, the magic of her touch instantly making him grow hard. As if she sensed the reaction, her hand fluttered to the button of his jeans, but he stopped her, cupping her hand with his.
“I’m not going anywhere, Storie Rae,” he said, the words heavy as they left his lips. “But are you sure?”
She lifted her chin, rising on her toes until her lips brushed his. “I’m sure.” And then her mouth was on his, eliciting a sound from deep inside him. He groaned, pulling her nearer, closing the space between them.
So she was sure.
They were going to do this on his terms. “No magic,” he said, his voice low as he spoke against her lips.
“No magic,” she said with a moan, dragging her hands through his hair and pulling him back to her.
“This time, anyway,” he amended. Maybe later, after they’d explored each other, knew each other inside and out, maybe then she could use magic. And he knew there would be a later.
He kissed her again, a shudder passing over her body. He grabbed her hips, walking backward, bringing her with him. backing her up against the Jeep, clasping her head in his hands, scraping his fingers through her hair as he found her mouth again. Tilting her head back to expose her neck, he trailed his lips along her jaw, down to the top edge of her shirt.
She didn’t have to try. She was magic in every way. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, setting her on on the tailgate. Then he looked at her. God, she was perfect.
Slowly, he felt the button of his pants come loose. The next instant, they’d vanished all together.
“You’re being a bad witch,” he said, stepping away.
But she shook her head, used his shoulders to brace herself as she jumped down from the Jeep, and undid the fastenings on her jeans. “No, I’m being a good witch,” she said, flashing him the most devilish smile he’d ever seen.
In seconds, she’d stripped out of her soaked jeans and boots, standing before him in just a triangle of lace. His head filled with raw desire, his pulse thundering in his head.
“You’re a very good bad witch,” he murmured as he took her from the tailgate to the quilt.
Storie. She was all he could ever want.
Chapter 21
Storie dragged in a bolstering breath as she draped her leg over Reid’s thigh, rolling him onto his back until she straddled him.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze sweeping over her.
“I need you to—”
He snaked a hand around to the back of her neck, pulling her down and kissing her again. “To what?” he asked, his lips scarcely leaving hers long enough to utter the question.
“I need to know if you’re leaving,” she said, biting her lip, deathly afraid of his response. What if he hadn’t changed his mind about leaving Whiskey Creek? Could she be with him now, knowing that he wouldn’t be around for the long term?
He kissed her neck, trailing his lips over her collarbone and across her chest.
She tried to restrain the moan climbing up her throat, but he used his tongue inventively and the sound escaped from her throat, unbidden.
“I’m never leaving you,” he murmured.
Those four words wound through her, surrounding her heart, throttling her full-speed into the passion she’d been trying to keep at bay. This…this was what she wanted. Her connection with Reid filled the emptiness she’d had inside her forever. She slid her hands over him, her fingers exploring the hard lines of his stomach, tangling through the dusting of hair on his chest. He was perfect.
The cool air of the night rushed over them, goose bumps rising on her skin, but the heat from his touch, from their bodies moving together, warmed her from the inside out.
Her heart thudded in her ears. These were Reid’s hands on her hips. His searing gaze scorching her skin as he took in every bit of her.
“Storie Rae,” he murmured. Her name rolled off his tongue as if he’d been saying it all his life. She flattened her hands on his chest. He’d said no magic, but she used her powers to slide out the pins holding her hair. Her curls loosened, tumbling in a gentle motion, the ends tickling his cheek.
“Nifty trick,” he said with a husky laugh.
She smiled down at him. “I’m full of nifty tricks,” she said, “but I can never make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I want to do this.” He pulled her down to him, bringing his lips to hers, his touch slow. Intentional. Intimate. “I want you, Storie. Since I first saw you, it’s always been you.”
She nodded, sure her eyes told him the same story, her truth. He’d haunted her dreams since the last time they’d been at the lake, and now here they were again, coming full circle and ready to start a new life together.
She looked into his eyes, sucked into the sea of blue-gray. His desires were laid out before her. They’d found each other, and there was no going back.
She rocked against him, their movements binding them together. Her breath grew ragged in her chest as she felt herself peak, then a moment of stillness before warmth radiated out from her core, encircling her heart, breaking into rolling waves of oblivion.
He let go the next moment, a low, guttural moan slipping from his lips as he came undone, their unfinished business complete, but opening the door for a new chapter.
Reid held Storie close, her head tucked into the hollow between his shoulder and neck. They lay comfortable in each other’s arms for what felt like mere minutes, but was probably closer to an hour. Too content to move and sever what they’d finally found with each other.
“Millicent the Malevolent,” Storie said after a while.
Reid laughed. “What?”
“Every evil witch needs a moniker, right? Millicent the Malevolent. The name fits her.”
“I guess it does.”
“She’s not going to give up until she reunites the three of us so she can steal our powers, you know.”
He knew she was trying to give him an out. He didn’t bite. She was stuck with him, through boring days, moonshine, and magic battles. “Like I said, just keep practicing what you know.”
She sighed, arching her neck and stretching until her lips brushed against his. At the same time she waved her hand, sweeping the dark clouds that still hovered above them clear away. Twinkling lights were left in their wake, dancing and flickering like beacons. “I think I’ve loved you since you tried to rescue me from drowning,” she said with a smile, nipping at his lower lip.
The light sparkling from above reflected off the water. Her touch sent an electric charge through him. He was ready for more Storie. He’d never felt so at peace. Not some spell, he hoped. He wanted his feelings to be all his own, no powers or conjuring involved.
He laughed. “I think I have, too.”
Her fingers traced the tattoo around his biceps, heating the lines as if it were suddenly on fire. “When did you get this?” she asked, her voice soft and sleepy.
“The summer you left Whiskey Creek,” he said.
“What’s it mean?” She moved the pads of her fingers along the intricate pattern and weave.
“It’s a Celtic tribal symbol.” He knew the pattern inside and out. His mother had left a necklace
behind with the three-cornered knots. One represented the body, one the mind, and the last the spirit, and when linked together, created a circle. Two circles overlapping represented two people who’ve found each other.
He’d gotten the tattoo as a touchstone for the love his parents had once had, for the love he’d wanted to have but found so elusive. It was a constant reminder to him of what could be, but suddenly it was a symbol of what he had.
He pondered her question for a minute, trying to figure out how to put it into words. “It’s about finding a happy ending,” he finally said.
She smiled, and he knew she understood what he meant. He rolled her onto her back, bracing himself over her, looking into her eyes. The woman he loved. The woman he’d waited for. The witch next door, bringing magic into his life. “It means everlasting love,” he said, and he kissed her.
The End
Thank you for reading Storiebook Charm. Readers often decide what to read based on reviews. I am very appreciative of all reviews and would be grateful if you’d take a few minutes to share your thoughts about this book on the book’s B&N and Goodreads pages.
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Storiebook Charm (A Spellbound Novel 1) Page 17