Accidental Magic (9 page)

“I can’t imagine not wanting you,” she said, guiding him over so that he stood beside her bed while she sat on the edge of it. He was wearing a black pullover, and she skimmed it up his body and over his head, letting her fingers trail lightly down from his shoulders over his naked chest and abdomen, loving
the way his body shivered at her touch. Then she unbuttoned his jeans, taking her time to slowly unzip them while her lips teased his chest and her fingers caressed the hard lump that was pushing against his pants. When she finally got his pants undone she stood, and then, hooking her fingers in his waistband, slid the jeans down, pressing her body against his as she did so.

On her knees in front of him, she took him in her hands. He was hard and hot and his body jerked and quivered under her hands. When she closed her mouth around him he moaned her name, and had to lean against the bed to stay standing.

“Your mouth,” he rasped, “is a dream. A very sexy dream.”

“Wet dream?” she asked when she paused.

“Oh, God, yes,” he moaned.

She laughed, but before she could take him in her mouth again, he pulled her to her feet and in one quick movement, lifted her onto the bed. Lying beside her he unbuttoned her shirt.

“Now that’s sexy,” he said, running his finger lightly over the delicate white lace bra. “Too many women think red or black or some other godawful bright color is what men want. I don’t know about other men,” he murmured, “but I think white is the sexiest. You can see right through it.” He circled her nipple with his finger, causing it to harden. “But there’s something innocent about it. Like what it’s covering has been waiting just for you.” He bent over her, taking her nipple into his mouth right through the sheer lace of the bra.

Candice’s breath left her in a rush. “My panties match,” were the only words her lust-clouded mind could form.

Justin moved from her bra to unbutton the short cotton skirt she was wearing. He pulled it down and then knelt between her legs, gazing down at her body. She watched him closely and suddenly saw herself reflected in the desire that was so clear on his face, and knew she’d never again think of herself as old or fat or frumpy.

“Feel what you do to me,” he whispered.

He took her hand and pressed it to his chest so that she could feel the racing of his heart. She let her fingers rest there for a moment, and then held the hand that had so recently covered hers against her breast.

“Feel what you do to me,” she echoed.

“It’s good that we’re in this together,” he said. “I don’t think I could stand feeling all of this alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Candice said.

“Give me a chance,” Justin said. “Say you’ll take me seriously, even though you think I’m too damn young.”

“Justin, I don’t expect—” she started.

“Expect!” he blurted. “Can’t you just expect magic? Even if it’s never happened to you before, can’t you let me prove to you that there’s more than one kind of magic in this world, and that we can make it happen together?” He leaned down and cupped her face between his hands. “I want you, Candice Cox. Not just tonight. I want you in my life. Let me make you love me.”

His words scared and thrilled her. She should tell him no. Or she should lie to him and say yeah, whatever, so that they could have more good sex, and then send him on his way. But she didn’t want to. It might be stupid. It probably wouldn’t work. But Candice wanted more than anything else to take a chance on loving Justin. Unexpected tears came to her eyes when she answered him.

“I’ve waited a long time to feel like this, Justin. I can’t let you go now,” she said.

He smiled and wiped the dampness from her cheeks. “Well, you had to wait for me to grow up.”

“Hush and kiss me.” She pulled him down to her.

Soon neither of them could talk anymore. All they could do was feel.

8

Candice slept till noon again the next day—this time curled up against Justin’s body. And she awoke to his gentle caresses and they made love slowly, whispering erotic secrets as morning gave way to afternoon. They’d said good-bye like lovers had for centuries, with lots of long looks and lingering touches.

And tomorrow…they were meeting tomorrow. He’d wanted to see her again that night, but as he’d been kissing her good-bye for about the zillionth time, his cell phone had interrupted them. He’d taken the call, albeit reluctantly, and after he’d hung up he’d apologized, saying that it was a call from his family’s restaurant. They needed him to go to Denver tonight
because…hell. She didn’t remember exactly what he’d said. She’d been too busy floating on a cloud of sexual satisfaction.

But that wasn’t all it was, Candice reminded herself that evening as she poured a glass of white wine and took it to her writing desk. She was floating on more than a sex cloud. She really liked him. Her lips tilted up in a secret smile as she remembered the text message she’d received from him not long ago. It had simply said:

First DeMass, then Frost, and now Shakespeare! He was smart and interesting and so sexy she wanted to begin at his mouth and lick her way down his body…and then back up again. And he wanted her to be in his life—to love him. No matter how improbable or impossible, she found herself wanting the same thing. She sighed happily and sipped her wine. Creative juices flowing (along with all the rest of them), she picked up her pencil and reread the poem she’d started.

She grinned at where she’d stopped and, inspired, started writing.

The ringing phone jarred her. The caller ID said Tawdry, Godiva.

“Well, hi there, girlfriend. Long time no hear from.” Godiva’s voice was smug. “So, has anything new come…uh,
up
recently?”

Candice’s breath came out in a rush. “Shit! You know! How the hell do you know?” Then she gasped, a horrible feeling lodging in her stomach. “Oh, no! Did you do it, Godiva?”

“Do what?”

“Don’t play innocent witch with me. How did you manage it? Magic doesn’t work on me.”

“It might not work on you, but it definitely works on werewolves.”

“You made him want me!” she shrieked, feeling even sicker.

“Certainly not.” Godiva sounded offended. “All I did was to cast a lupine drawing spell right after the last time we talked. If it caught a wolf who didn’t find you attractive, he would have never approached you. Think of it like baiting a hook. If the worm—which was you—wasn’t juicy and tender and appealing to the fish—or in this case, werewolf—he would never taste the bait.”

“Oh.” Candice grinned, feeling so relieved she was weak-kneed.

“Details, please.”

“Let’s just say this worm has been well eaten.”

They both dissolved into giggles.

“And,” Candice said breathlessly, “I’m meeting him again tomorrow. Godiva, baby, he’s quoting poetry to me!
Poetry!
And he made the stupid fairies make art for me. Can you believe it? He said he wants to worship me like a goddess, and, honey, let me tell you. I definitely can’t get enough of that kind of attention! But it’s more than just how completely sexy he is. He’s smart and funny
and
totally into me. And, Godiva, I
really
like him.”

“Sounds fabulous! Who is he?”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“No. I told you—I just baited the hook. I had no idea which wolf would bite.”

“Oh, Godiva, it’s so deliciously naughty. He’s
young
, and”—she
dropped her voice to a whisper—“he’s an ex-student of mine.”

“Oh, my Goddess! How wickedly yummy. Give. Who is he?” Godiva gushed.

“Justin Woods,” she gushed.

“Who?”

“Justin Woods. You know, his family are the werewolves who own Red Riding Hood’s.”

“Oh, Goddess.”

“What? What’s wrong? I know he’s young, but it’s not like he’s still a teenager—which would be totally and completely disgusting—he’s twenty-six. And a half. Practically twenty-seven.”

“Oh, Goddess.”

“Godiva Tawdry, stop saying that and tell me what’s wrong!” Candice was beginning to feel sick again.

“I should have known,” Godiva groaned. “But how could I have known? I didn’t think it would be
him
.”

“Godiva. Tell me.”

The witch drew a deep breath and then blurted out, “He’s a slut.”

“What?!”

“He’s the most promiscuous werewolf in town—or out of town, for that matter. The pack tramp. Truly a dog in all the worst connotations of the word.”

“Oh, no…”

“Oh, yes. I promise you. My Romeo has told me all about him. He’s the pack joke. Thinks he’s some kind of furry Don Juan. He’s always licking coeds and cheerleaders and whatnot.”

“Cheerleaders!”

“I’m so sorry, Candice.”

“And all that stuff he said to me…”

“You mean about making a woman orgasm with his mouth?”

Candice gasped in horror.

“Let me guess—he licked your foot and sucked your toes?” Godiva said.

“Yes,” Candice squeaked.

“That’s his move. He does that with all the girls—wolves—whatever.”

“I may puke.” She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. How could she have been so damn gullible? “How about the poetry he quoted and the fairy art? Does he use that on all of his victims, too?”

“I don’t remember hearing about that, but hey, come on! Just forget about it.” Godiva forced perkiness into her voice. “You had a good time, right? A little fling—an unclogging of your pipes.”

“He played me for a fool.” Candice’s voice was quiet and intense. She let her anger build. As long as she was thoroughly pissed she could keep the hurt from blossoming like a black flower inside of her.

“No, he’s just—”

Candice cut her off. “No, Godiva! It wasn’t all fun and games—he made it appear to be more than that. I should have known…I should have been smarter, but he’s not going to get away with it. I said I was too old for this kind of shit, and I am. But not because I’m dried up and unattractive. I’m too old to be lied to and manipulated. So tell me the truth. He’s obviously not going on a supply run for his family tonight. I want you to find out from Romeo what he’s really doing.”