Kali Willows BUNDLE (Shadowed Desires Series) (10 page)

“Tess. Where are you going?” Jen asked.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Tessa stormed out of the tent.

Chapter Eight

Rifling through her bag in a frenzy, Tessa grabbed her jeans and sweater she’d worn earlier and rushed into the bathroom to change, hoping to disappear before having to face him again. Anger and fear washed over her body and her trembling hands fumbled with her garments. At the mirror, she removed the rope from her neck and then jerked with fright at a reflection beside hers. A glance to her right confirmed she stood alone in front of the glass, and she focused again on the mirror. A pale, desolate woman in similar attire, with a frayed rope cutting into the skin of her neck. In disbelief, Tessa shook her head and the vision disappeared. Running the cold water and splashing her face, she tried to wake from her terrifying shock. The welling of tears returned, and she brushed them away with the back of her hand. The red rims of her eyes highlighted her swollen lids, smeared with black makeup, her image was comparable to something from a bad horror movie.

She pulled off her costume and slipped into her clothes. She then gathered her things and rushed out of the bathroom only to find Samson sitting on the bed—holding the Malleus Maleficarum. His jaw hung open and his face was filled with worry.

“What in God’s name are you doing with this, Tessa?”

“You went through my bag? How dare you?” She stomped over and tried to take it from him.

“When Sarah mentioned the book, I couldn’t even imagine she meant this.” He refused to let go. “Why don’t you try telling me what the hell these notes mean, huh?” He pulled out her step-by-step plan to seduce her one-night stand.

“Give me that—you have no right.”

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her from touching the book. “I don’t? What gives you the right? You planned a seduction based on the evil workings of this abomination for fun? What? Was tonight just for kicks?” She remained silent “Answer me.”

“I’ve been writing a thesis. I didn’t mean any harm.”

“A thesis? That’s why you set this night up? On Halloween?”

“I didn’t plan the date.”

“What exactly
did
you plan? Were you thinking of casting this spell of lust on me, too?” He pulled out more notes.

“No, of course not, that was just research.”

“Research.”

“What about you? Mr. Descendent of the Magistrate John Hawthorn, were you looking for a witch to condemn?”

“All right, that’s enough.” He released her wrist.

“Why is your last name different? Were you trying to hide your agenda?”

“My grandfather changed his surname to get away from this history. My family has been good Christians for many generations.”

“Good Christians? That’s what the Puritans said, too, right before they set up the nooses.”

“Dammit Tessa, stop it. We are not our ancestors. Why would you have the right to condemn me, any more than I you?”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re a Wiccan—you practice witchcraft, right?”

“What are you getting at?”

“I’m getting at personal choice. Were you planning to cast a spell on me? Try to take my free will away?”

“No, I told you I wasn’t.”

“Then why would you assume I would sit in judgment of you?” His voice softened a little as he dropped the book on the bed and stood up facing her.

“Sarah said—”

“I am a descendent, that’s all I am, just like you are to Sarah. Do you hold her personal beliefs?”

“I don’t know what her beliefs were.”

“Did you know she was described as an insane woman, harsh and abusive with her children, begging door to door and then lashing out at those who turned her away?”

“The history books said a lot of things; it doesn’t mean any of them were true.”

“Fair enough, but why do you assume they aren’t true? Why do you assume I share John Hawthorn’s beliefs?”

“I—I—don’t know.”

“Look, this whole thing got blown out of proportion. Why did you come here tonight?”

“You know why—”

“Just indulge me here.”

“To be close to someone—you.”

“Right, and that was my purpose, too. Why does the rambling of a ghost at a séance have anything to do with this?” He moved close to her and caressed her shaking arms.

“I’m—confused.”

“You have your faith, I have mine, and neither denotes harming others, does it?”

“No.”

“Then let’s leave the past where it belongs—in the past.”

Standing silent, she stared into the depths of his chocolate brown eyes. She saw no hint of deception—just sincerity.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Tears collected at her stinging rims again.

“I do.”

“What?”

“It’s this Godforsaken book, Tessa. It has a negativity that affects people with distrust and superstition.” He pointed to the bed where the ancient text lay. “Believe me, I know this book. I read it in seminary.”

“What should I do? I haven’t finished my thesis.”

“That’s what’s important to you?”

“Yes—yes it is.”

“Why?”

“I need to understand the past in order to prevent anything like this ever happening again. When I teach religions, I need to know everything to be effective, to be a good teacher.”

“Oh my Lord, the secret to preventing this history from repeating itself doesn’t lie in that horrific gibberish.”

“You don’t think so?”

“No, I don’t. The secret is our faith, not only having it, but also teaching it to others. The atrocious things that happened were based on ignorance and primordial beliefs. We have an opportunity our ancestors never had.”

“What’s that?” Sniffing back her tears, Tess watched him from under a suffocating blanket of sadness.

“Not only to learn from the past, but to shape the future of others in their beliefs, educate them, teach them about the ultimate universal law.” Brushing a strand of hair back from her face, he ran the warmth of his palm down her cheek.

“And it harm none, do what thou will.”

“Exactly. Every faith has some foundation of good intentions and not harming.”

“What about the old eye for an eye, Samson? That’s a Christian belief.”

“Actually, it’s not. It’s a primitive belief based on anger and revenge. Neither of those are the Christian way.”

“Sounds like you know a thing or two about my thesis after all.”

“It does?” His charismatic smile surfaced.

“I think so, as long as you can give me assurance on one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That you agree men don’t have superiority over women.” She wiped her damp cheeks.

“I believe—”

“Go on.” She stared him down.

“I believe that women, are in fact, superior to men.”

“You do?”

“In many ways, yes.”

“Are you saying that to get some, Mr. Langley?”

“Most definitely not.” His chin raised a little as he watched her.

“Okay, then, I’ll just be on my way.” Inching backward, she eyed him with furrowed brows.

“What?”

“Just testing your point. Seems like you believe I hold all the cards, huh?”

“You know, Ms. Ledger, I think we’re better suited for each other than we ever expected from 1Night Stand.”

“Why’s that?” Stepping a little closer to him, she could feel the heat of his body through her cotton sweater.

“Aside from the attraction—which I assume is mutual—?” He raised his brows and slid his arms around her waist, consuming her with his hungry stare.

“I suppose you could say that.” She gave a sly grin, easing her arms around his neck.

“Even though we are of different faiths, we are both leaders in religion. I lead in church, and you lead—?”

“At Salem State University.” She giggled.

“Ah, a university professor.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way—the leadership thing.”

“So I have one more question for you, Ms. Ledger.”

“What’s that?” She studied his succulent lips.

“Can we leave this religious business aside for now, and get on with the rest of the evening? Or are you done with our date now?” Loosening his grip on her waist, he pulled back a little with a teasing smile.

“Hmm, I don’t think we have much of a choice now.”

“Oh? Why not?” He pulled her to his chest and leaned in close, almost lip-to-lip, but not quite touching.

“Ah, it would appear that I have in fact bewitched you, dear sir.”

“It does?” Giving a seductive smile, he pulled her tight against his chest.

“Apparently so.” Sliding one hand down the length of his body, she gripped his semi-hard cock with tightened fingers.

“You have indeed, dear lady.” He cupped his palm over hers, kneading her fingers along the shape of his growing hard on.

“Hold that thought.” Tessa suddenly reeled back.

“What is it?”

“Gimme a minute.” She rushed to the bathroom, collecting her candles and incense. She placed the items around the room, lighting them, and glanced back at him with a taunting smile. The glowing candlelight and the sweet, woody scent of patchouli brought a shudder of excitement through her chest and her core.

Finally, she turned off the overhead lights, glanced back at her waiting conquest, and found his stunning smile lighting up his handsome face. Samson removed the priest costume, dropping everything on the floor with a seductive glare.

“One more minute.” She held up a trembling finger, grabbed another few items from her bag, raced to the bathroom, and shoved the door shut.

This is it, okay, sweetheart, damnation or desire? You are about to fuck a man of the church.
She contemplated while she looked hard at her disheveled reflection.
Desire, without a doubt, desire
.

After a quick cleanup of her smudged make up, she pulled off her clothes and slipped into a snakeskin printed stretch mesh teddy. Stepping back from the mirror, she inspected the thong and the strappy criss-cross on the front and back. This was most definitely her favorite choice for risking damnation, sassy and sexy. Giving the final touch, a spritz of alluring ambrosia, she was primed for sin. Tessa’s stomach was doing back flips with expectancy and the uncontrollable clatter of her teeth and internal trembles were too much to bear.

When she opened the door, she shut off the bathroom light and found Samson waiting in the bed, with the covers pulled down. Time to play.

Chapter Nine

The flow of her brilliant red, wavy locks and her slow saunter from the bathroom to the bed was exotic, and the wait for her arrival, unbearable. Samson had been with women before, but those he had dated were more reserved and never dressed like
this
. She knew how to work the moment from every movement of her hips to her fingers gripping the blankets as she ascended the mattress as full of temptation as Eve to Adam. Samson lay on his back, revealing his now upright erection. A sudden ripple of anticipation rolled over his chest.

Tessa climbed on top of him and straddled his thighs, leaving his steely hard on towering in front of her. She grasped it, caressing and rubbing from the throbbing shaft, up to the aching head.

“So Mr. Langley, you’ve never been with a witch before, have you?” Giving a deep, sultry whisper, she gripped a little tighter.

“No, I can’t say that I have.” Thrusting his pelvis as she massaged his manhood, he let out a low moan of pleasure.

“In that case, it’s time for your initiation.” His temptress reached over to the nightstand, took the burning votive candle, and held it over his cock.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you gonna do with that?” He struggled up on his elbows while his pulse raced with fear.

Grinning from ear to ear, she tilted the candle as the heated wax collected at the rim. The thought of the scorching wax on his dick was not arousing at all.

“Aw, is the big bad pastor afraid of a little hot wax on his nipples or the tip of his—” Samson flinched and squinted his eyes shut while he turned his head to the side, holding his breath and braced for torture.

A taunting giggle slipped out, but he didn’t feel anything. He looked to find she couldn’t contain herself anymore and she blew the candle out.

“What?” He patted down his chest and his vulnerable body parts.

“Just joking. I’m not into S&M.” She laughed as his jaw fell open.

“Oh, that’s it for you.” He grabbed her waist, hiked her light but curvy body off his hips, and tossed her onto the bed on her back. Climbing on top her, he held her slender wrists above her head, grinning as she struggled to get away. “I’m gonna—” Samson paused in mid-sentence and the sudden shock of remorse washed over him as he loosened his hold.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know what’s come over me. I have never behaved like this.”

“You’re not hurting me, Samson, it’s okay.” Tessa reached up and pulled his face down to hers. “Damnation comes with a price.”

“It does?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. “It’s called pleasure.”

The corners of his mouth pulled back and eagerness rushed through him. The fullness of her luscious lips was irresistible. He leaned down; giving a soft and gentle kiss and then the intensity grew as she accepted his tongue. The urge for tenderness was overtaken by sheer lust and gluttony as he tugged her form-fitting teddy down her shoulders and eased it off her hips and her legs, flinging it behind him with a reckless abandon.

The deep, passionate kiss became engulfing; he felt as though he was absorbing her essence into his very cells. With a long, provocative lingering kiss, Samson eased his torso between her legs.

“Tell me what you want, Tess.” He suckled her neck and throat, eager to please her.

“I want all of you, Samson.” She reached down to his hips and urged him to move upward.

“Tell me, say what you want.”

“I want to taste you. I want to suck your cock.” She continued to pull him closer.

An intense, tickling sensation consumed his chest at her audacious words, and he loved it. He rose to his knees and inched up, kneeling over her, above her chest. The alluring redhead gripped his tingling hard on with both hands and took the tip of his head between her lips. The heat of her wet tongue made his legs go weak. He moaned, leaned forward, and slowly inched his rock hard flesh between her lips, gripping the headboard to steady himself as she sucked and licked, with long, slow, deep mouthfuls of his engorged cock.