Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2) (10 page)

“I can’t say, I’m not relieved. It’s hard enough, thinking that your grandmother is aware when I make love to her granddaughter. I’d hate to think your mom was watching us.” He teased the edge of her mouth with his tongue. “So, you never mentioned the word, but you’re not Wiccan?”

“No, we’re not Wiccan, this isn’t a religion for us it’s a way of life. We’re magical by birth, not by a religious decision. But our kind is fairly prevalent in the rural south. Around New Orleans, using a mojo hand or a gris-gris bag to assist you in your wants and wishes is common practice.”

Eric listened patiently, but the word ’mojo’ seemed to amuse him. He nuzzled her neck, “I thought ‘mojo’ was sex-drive or whatever you call the wild attraction that kept me dancing to your tune all morning.”

“That’s a popular usage of the word, but not the most correct.” She laid her head under his chin, content to rest in his arms as she talked. “Magick was always a part of my life. When we were sick, a doctor wasn’t our first move—sometime he wasn’t necessary at all. If there was danger—a gun was not our first weapon of choice—a spell would be cast or a ward put up. When we get through talking, I’ll take you up and show you my ‘craft room’ and all the things I use in my magick.”

“I want to see everything, sweetheart.” Evangeline looked at him, and he was getting that dreamy, sexy, ‘I want to kiss you’ look in his eyes.

“I had friends, I graduated high school, I even went two years to Tulane. My nights were spent leading a supernatural tour group around New Orleans.”

“Tell me about it that sounds wild.” He was just about to take her in his arms, when it dawned on her what time it was.

“Eric, I’ve got to go to class!” She pushed out of his embrace, then she stopped and looked at him. “Will you be here when I get back?”

“Where else would I be?’ She kissed him three times on the lips; hard, in quick succession. “I’ll fix your lunch when I get back.”

* * * *

Eric lay back and let the last thirty-six hours play through his head. His world had been turned upside down by the dark-haired siren of his dreams. Stretching languidly, he decided that life was wonderful. He didn’t understand everything that had happened, but he was sure there was a logical explanation—and if there wasn’t, he didn’t care. Evangeline was perfect— beautiful, sexy and just exactly what he had been hungry for. That she believed in things that were new to him wasn’t a major concern. He was sure they could find some common ground.

Wandering to the kitchen, he decided to surprise Evangeline and fix her some lunch. He had yet to provide her with a meal, and she had cooked for him twice. Delving into her refrigerator he decided on grilled cheese and BLT’s. Her class would be over before noon and he wanted to have it ready when she got back. Gathering the condiments, his eyes landed on a jar of honey and suddenly he was inspired. Taking the honey out, he made plans for a romantic interlude.

* * * *

Maurice Duvalier held the snake up even with Aimee’s face. “You either do what I say, or I will throw you into a pit full of these vipers.” Terror consumed Aimee. She hated snakes! But she hated Duvalier more! He had stolen five years of her life. And she swore on all that was holy, her time under his thumb was about to end. “Now tell me, cher, when will Korzac’s shipment of heroin arrive?”

Aimee watched Zac. She knew that if she didn’t tell Duvalier, he would just go over and start torturing Zac. Aimee couldn’t let that happen. That boy had come to mean the world to her, almost as much as her Evangeline. ‘Oh, Evangeline, Evangeline—I’m not dead, Evangeline.’ Her thoughts were screamed out into the ether. But she knew they didn’t get very far. Duvalier collected people of magick. And Zak and Aimee weren’t the only ones. Also residing in the Bayou hideout was Black Eddie, one of the most powerful voodoo men Aimee had ever known.

Angelique had spoken of Black Eddie with fear in her voice. And he had lived up to all of her warnings. After Aimee had been fished out of the black flood waters of Katrina, Black Eddie had seen to it that none of her attempts to contact her family were successful. He, along with a half a dozen other powerful conjurers, had put up an impenetrable wall that no amount of psychic or magical power of hers could penetrate. But what Black Eddie nor Duvalier had realized was that Zak—sweet, young Zak was the most powerful one of them all. And Zak was going to help her go home. Aimee promised herself that this nightmare was soon going to come to an end. She was going to go home to her family, and she was going to make sure that Zak went with her.

* * * *

Evangeline walked back to her house, holding her breath until she could see his black Camaro in her driveway. He was still there. Then, she couldn’t help herself, she broke into a run. Much like she had waited the other day, he stood in the doorway watching for her. She literally flew up the steps and into his arms. “Hello, witch, are you hungry?”

“For you.” His use of the term
witch
thrilled her, because from his lips it had sounded like the sweetest term of endearment.

“If you’ll eat a sandwich, I think we can sneak in a bit of loving before your two o’clock class.”

“Now, I won’t be able to eat.” And she wasn’t kidding, at his mention of loving her, everything below her waist had liquefied.

“Yes, you can.” He pulled out a chair for her. “I made grilled cheese and BLT’s. Which one would you rather have?”

“Cheese.” She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

“How was class?” He tried to make conversation.

“Fine. Boring. I resented being there, because you were here.”

“Eat.” He poured her a glass of tea, she loved that he cared enough to wait on her.

“I held my breath, until I saw your car. I was terrified that everything I told you this morning would scare you off.”

“Baby, I don’t scare very easily.” She watched him. He was so powerful. His shoulders were so wide and his chest so heavily muscled. His arms strained the sleeves of his T-Shirt, yet she knew that he was totally vulnerable to her and it was her duty to keep him safe.

“I know, but I never want you to be hurt or made to feel uncomfortable by anything I do. I didn’t think I would ever say this, but I would walk away from it all for you—the magick, the spells, even my family—you are more important than all of it put together.” Evangeline hadn’t planned on saying any of that, but it was true.

Picking up their plates, he cleared the table. “You are just what I want you to be. You are perfect,” Eric assured her. “You are mysterious and enchanting, easily the most exciting woman I have ever been with in my life. Now get up, I have a fantasy of my own to fulfill.”

She was instantly ready for whatever he had in mind. “Go to the bedroom, get undressed and get into bed. I will join you in a moment.” Looking back as she walked, she wondered what was about to happen.

Doing as he requested, she lay—naked—on the top of the covers waiting for him. When he came through the door, he was also naked, thoroughly aroused, and holding a small container of amber liquid. “What is that?” she asked innocently. She had her suspicions.

“When you told me what the neighbor said, about the warm honey making your breasts larger—honest to God—I haven’t been able to forget it. Just thinking about rubbing this warm honey around your nipples has made me harder than a diamond.” He knelt on the floor at her side, placing the honey on the bedside table. She turned to face him.

“Just don’t use it all, I have an idea of something I’d like to lick it off, myself.” Eric growled his arousal, crushing her lips beneath his own. They kissed deeply, tongues intertwining. In a move that she had never tried before, she captured his tongue and mimicked the action that she had taken between his legs. He jerked in her arms, pulling away from. “God, what you do to me! Lay back, love. Let me play.”

He brought both hands to her breasts, but not quite touching. She trembled under his gaze. “Why do women think that all men prefer those huge melon sized breasts?” He studied her small mounds as if he were planning on recreating them out of clay.

“Maybe, because they do,” she bantered back at him.

“No, perhaps there’s a few. But some of us prefer apples; tart, sweet, juicy apples.” He licked the valley between her breasts. “I know a lot of men; and men talk, especially in a locker room setting. And the idea that all men like big breasts, especially fake ones, isn’t entirely accurate. In fact, I know one guy; his girl got implants and later he said that he would have given anything if she hadn’t. He said that kissing them now, was like kissing a softball covered in skin. Plus, she couldn’t feel anything in them anymore.” While he talked, his fingers had been busy. First, he encircled them—wide circles to begin with them, but narrowing with every revolution. Her nipples pouted, plumped up, daringly lifting themselves up, as if seeking his lips. “Aren’t you glad you can feel what I’m doing to you?” He began palming them, rubbing her nipples, pulling them, distending them. Evangeline began to toss her head from side to side. He asked her again. “How does this feel, love?”

“Marvelous, incredible, it makes me want to scream with pleasure.” She spoke barely above a whisper. Then he dipped a finger in the honey and anointed each breast. Rubbing the warm liquid into her soft skin, she began to whimper. He was taking her from one high to another—she had never known making love could be like this. Eric massaged her breasts with the warm honey, then lowering his head, he proceeded to eat it off of her. With tongue and lips, he sucked every bit of the sweetness from her skin. And as he did, her whole body shook in a loin-melting, sheet-clutching climax. Eric chuckled. Evangeline felt boneless, but his amusement made her curious. “Why are you laughing?”

“I made you come hard, and I never came within a foot of your pussy.” Eric looked immensely pleased with himself. “Yes, indeed. You aren’t the only one with power.”

The rest of the honey didn’t go to waste. Evangeline had pulled him up on the bed, intent on using it as a dipping sauce. But Eric had other ideas. “This is my fantasy, and I’m not through.” When Evangeline realized Eric’s intent, she began to quiver with excitement. Eric took the honey and poured a razor thin line from her breastbone, down her midriff, across her navel to the very apex of her mons. Spreading her legs, he laid them wide, opening her fully to his gaze and to anything else he chose to do. “Oh love, you are so beautiful.” He traced the petal-soft satin with his finger tips. “When I found the honey today, I started dreaming of licking it off your breasts, sucking it off of your nipples, but then it occurred to me that I’ve never taken time to kiss you where you’re the softest. You are always so giving, so passionate, you reach for me with both hands—and I love that, don’t get me wrong. But now, I want to make you scream, I’m going to fill your honey-pot with nectar and then I’m going to eat my fill.”

Evangeline closed her eyes in anticipation of the ecstasy to come. “Eric, you’re driving me mad.”

“I’ve haven’t even touched you yet, love.”

“You’ve touched me with your words,” she breathed.

“Not enough.” Then he began the tactile assault. He gave a full open-mouth kiss to each nipple, then used his tongue to lap up the honey until he reached her navel, where he swirled around it, before heading lower. Rising up, he drizzled honey over her labia, causing her to lift in supplication. He made her wait no longer. Waxed smooth, there was nothing between her and the roughness of his tongue, the curve of his lip, and the depth of his kiss. When the honey was gone, he did not stop. He consumed her, pushing his tongue deep within her, making her buck and moan. Finding her clitoris, he sucked on it lightly, alternating with laps and laves of his tongue.

“Eric, oh love, I can’t stand it, I’m going to come apart.” Evangeline’s orgasm was so intense she thought she was going to lose consciousness.

She was wild for him, she pushed him down, climbed on top of him, and rode him until they both exploded.  Afterwards, he held her, pushing a strand of hair off her damp forehead.  “You’re my dream girl, baby—my every fantasy come to life.” 

* * * *

Again, she was almost late for class, but it had been worth it. Being with Eric was more important than everything else in her life rolled up into one. But this was the class that she enjoyed the most. Rachel and the gang were there and they had more questions than she had time.

“Hey, witchy woman, we went to the Neumann Museum. That was one hot exhibit!

“So, that was Angel, huh?” Rachel was captivated by anything Evangeline did. She was a wannabe witch in the worst way.

Evangeline regretted she had been so honest with Rachel, not about her witchcraft, but about Eric/Angel. He was personal, he was hers. “Yes. By the way, I like that wildlife sculpture you’re working on.” Evangeline worked diligently on changing the subject. Dr. Frederick came in about that time and the chatter had to wait. All through class, Evangeline could feel someone’s gaze burning holes in her back. She glanced over her shoulder and discovered it was Clark. She smiled and tossed him a friendly wave, figuring she was being overly sensitive. Concentrating on her work, the hour went by swiftly. Hindsight later would tell her, if only she had been faster, if only she had left when everyone else did. But she didn’t.