Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2) (9 page)

“Eric. I’m serious.”

“Oh, babe, so am I. You have ultimate power over me. Just one look from you and I am as hard as an iron spike.” He stepped in front of her, jutting straight out—engorged, powerful, blatantly aroused.

So, she would just have to show him. He stood three feet in front of her. “Don’t move, Eric, stay there.”

There
was not where Eric wanted to be. He wanted to be inside of her, deep, inside of her. But he obeyed. She held out one hand, as if she were going to touch him, but there was no way that she could reach him from where she sat. She closed her eyes and moved her hand as if she closed it around his rod. She caressed him with her fingers, she massaged his length up and down. But she was
three-feet-away
.

Eric felt every move of her fingers. He tingled all over. This was impossible! She was touching him! He could feel her caress! She kept it up, literally. Eric was astounded. He was being given the most incredible hand job of his life, and there was no hand involved. His breathing accelerated.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He was stunned! Evangeline opened her mouth and began to swirl her tongue in the air—licking her own lips in a circular motion—bringing them together in a tender kiss.
And he felt all of it!

She was not unaffected. He watched her hands pluck at her own nipples, watched her flex her hips, trying to ease the tension between her legs. Still, she kept up the onslaught. Every slight move of her tongue and her lips was magnified a hundred times on his manhood. He withstood the incredible torture for as long as he could, and then he climaxed. Wildly, he erupted! His whole body convulsed and he shot his cum clear across the room, splattering the mirror of the vanity in a white-hot eruption.

Eric sank to his knees. “What did you do to me?” He was incredulous. She must know some type of hypnosis; that was the only thing he could think of that made sense. There had to be a logical explanation. Evangeline stepped down from the vanity, took a wash cloth, held it under the warm spray of the shower and knelt in front of him. She tenderly washed him. “I loved you in my mind.”

“Your mind is very talented.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Angry, no. Confused, yes.” He looked at her. She was the same. The hair that he had loosened, hung thick over one shoulder—a dark, pink nipple peeked through the silky black strands. “What else can you do?”

“I can love you.” She kissed his chest. “Come, bathe with me.” He could do nothing, but follow.

Before getting into the shower, he took another cloth and washed the evidence of his passion from the mirror. “I have never come that violently before. I didn’t know I could.” Then, he thought of the first night that he had dreamed about her—the volcanic eruption of his climax that night had almost equaled this one. The effect that she had on him was unbelievable. He swore the moment they climbed out of that shower, he would get to the bottom of this. But right now, his mind wasn’t in charge. His heart was.

She led him by the hand under the warm spray. Evangeline soaped his body, enjoying the feel of him. “Love, I can’t get it up so soon. You’ve drained me; three times in one morning is a record for me.”

“I know. I just love to touch you. Your body is magnificent. Even though, I’ve touched it many times in my mind, fantasy is a far cry from reality.” He filled his own hand with the liquid soap and began returning the favor. Turning her so that her back was to him, Eric used his soapy hands to luxuriously wash Evangeline’s neck, arms, breasts, stomach—everywhere. She leaned back against him, raising her arms above her head to caress his face. When his hands finally found the juncture between her thighs—it only took one touch—and she convulsed with a climax that had been building since she had watched him come by just the touch of her spirit.

But he didn’t leave it at one touch, he kept working her and she kept coming. “Eric, you are so—” She was about to say ‘wonderful’, but he finished the thought.

“Hard,” he said through clenched teeth. “I am so friggin’ hard, it’s crazy!”

He picked her up and sat her down on his cock. Moving her to the side of the shower, she rested her face on his shoulder as he pumped wildly into her grateful, aching pussy.

This time it was hot, hard, fast and totally satisfying. Even after he spilled his seed deep within her womb, he kept pushing, pushing, letting the final sweet contractions of her channel milk the last drop of molten lava from his spent shaft. “I’m convinced.” He panted. “I believe you.” He voice was breathless from the exertion.

Evangeline, still supported by his strong hands, held her breath and asked, “What do you believe, Eric?”

“You’re a witch,” he whispered. “I don’t really understand it, but I believe.”

As she cooked, Evangeline remembered his words last night, he had believed her—that she was a witch. She knew he had no depth of knowledge. He hadn’t even realized what he had been saying. It was his passion speaking. But he wasn’t heading for the hills. He wasn’t running away from her. She had a chance. Evangeline prepared him a sumptuous breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns and French toast. Then she watched him eat. She sat by him and he fed her every bite she would eat, but she mainly feasted on the sight of him at her kitchen table. Doing little things for him warmed her heart. When he was full, he was ready to talk. She put the dishes in the dishwasher and they went back to the living room. She sat on the couch and he surprised her by laying down on it and resting his head in her lap. They sat there for a moment, and she waited for him to ask whatever he wanted to. She didn’t have long to wait.

“So, you say that your family has power. What kind of power?” His eyes twinkled. The topic still made him uneasy. Since the death of his mother, this topic had been ignored or belittled. It was hard for him to take it seriously. But his mother…

“All the women in my family practice hoodoo, it’s the New Orleans form of witchcraft.”

Eric sat up. He couldn’t believe his ears. “Do you mean to tell me that round, sweet, little grandmother of yours is a witch?” Eric was incredulous, he couldn’t help it. Witchcraft was one of those topics that his father had very definite ideas about.

“That round, sweet little grandmother of mine is the most powerful woman I have ever met. She can see the future in a bowl of clear water, she can read your thoughts from across the miles, and she probably knows exactly what we’ve been doing all morning. But she doesn’t refer to herself very often as a witch, but rather a rootworker or a conjurer. ”

“Crap!” Eric couldn’t help but laugh. “I remember at the museum, you asked me if you had conjured me. Tell me more.”

“Don’t you remember reading in the newspapers about Jade’s accident and how they thought he would never recover or even walk again?”

Eric thought for a moment. “Yes, I do. That was wild. It was all over the news that there was no hope for him and then all of a sudden he was healed.” As he said the words, he began to look at her funny. “What? Are you telling me that you had something to do with that?”

“Me? Very little. I was there. But Grandmother and Arabella healed Jade. We performed a healing ritual on him and in days, he was almost as good as new.”

Eric was flabbergasted. “How? How does a witch heal anybody?”

“Age old formula, sweetheart—faith, love and intent—Grandmother washed his body in water mixed with healing herbs. Then she brushed a lodestone over him numerous times, each time dipping it in the water to transfer the harm-causing problem from Jade to the water. She also used a fossil that came from Enchanted Rock, where he had fallen, in a type of sympathy magic. But perhaps the most powerful thing that happened was when we all laid our hands on him and called down power. I can still remember how hot Arabella’s hands became as she willed Jade to move again.”

Eric could tell that Evangeline believed every word she said. “Is that how you healed my burn?” He asked softly, not sure he wanted to hear the truth.

“We use herbs to heal, mainly. I made a paste for your arms out of aloe vera, you knew that is good for burns, plus Echinacea, St John’s Wort and Calendula.”

“That’s all you did, just put herbs on it?” He could handle herbs.

Evangeline swallowed, looked him straight in the eye, and spoke as if she was confessing a deep secret. “No, applying the herbs wasn’t all I did. I said a blessing over it, an ancient Germanic blessing, actually. Then I blew on it and made the sign of the cross over it. But mainly, I held you tight and willed your burn to heal and your body to strengthen.”

“That just sounds a lot like prayer and positive thinking to me.” Eric was trying to understand.

“It is. That’s a really good way of looking at it.”

“But who is it exactly that you pray to?” Eric didn’t want to ask, but he just had to know.

Evangeline smiled, weakly. “Eric, sweetheart, I don’t worship the devil,” she assured him.

“I didn’t say that.” He could no more believe that of Evangeline than he could of himself. “I just want to understand.”

“We believe in God. In fact, if you were to ask Nanette what religion she was, she would tell you Catholic. When we’ve gone to church, that’s where we go.” Eric seemed to look relieved, so she continued. “But there’s more to it than that. We believe that God is not just a male figure, but that he has female attributes, also. Did you know that one of the Hebrew names for God is El Shaddai?”

“Yes, I’ve heard the Amy Grant song by that name sung in church.”

“Do you know what El Shaddai means?’

“No.’

“It means ’The Breasted One’ or ’The Nurturer’. So we recognize God as both male and female, the God and the Goddess. We also acknowledge, not worship, the powers that God has created. And by that I mean the archangels, the elements, the natural powers such as herbs and gemstones. We believe that everything has spirit and power and that that power can be accessed and used to manipulate events and people.”

“So you manipulated me?” Eric didn’t even intend for those words to come out of his mouth, but they did.

She hung her head. “Yes, in a way.” She picked up his hand, grasping it tightly. “I was so lonely. Yet, I couldn’t bear to enter into a relationship with someone who was not my heart’s intended, my soul mate.” He squeezed her hand back, giving her strength to continue. “I wanted to see your face, so I took a scrying mirror…”

“Explain, scrying mirror,” he insisted.

“It’s mirror whose reflective surface has been painted black and it has been charged and by that I mean sanctified, set aside, a prayer of intent has been offered over it.“

“All right, continue.” He still didn’t know what to think, but he was willing to listen. It was all still way too strange for him.

“I cast a circle.” At his confused look. “I’ll demonstrate to you later, I promise. After I cast the circle, I lit a candle and said a prayer, a spell, an incantation—whatever you want to call it, and I asked to see the face of my beloved.” At the term of endearment, his pulse jumped and he couldn’t help but reach over for a kiss. She welcomed him, as she always did. But she soon started speaking again. “After a few moments, your image appeared.” Evangeline closed her eyes. “I thought you were too beautiful to be real, so I named you Angel.”

Oddly enough, all of this was beginning to sound real to Eric. He gathered her close and she continued. “I looked for you everywhere, and at night I would fantasize about you. The fantasies became dreams and sometimes it was hard to tell whether they were in my head or not. Soon, even they weren’t enough. I was impatient for you to find me, for me to find you. So, I went down to the banks of Lady Bird Lake and I sent out a call from my spirit to yours. I asked the powers that be to set the wheels in motion that would bring you to me, that would make our paths cross. But I asked that there be no chains. By that, I mean, I called for you to come, but I didn’t ask magick to change your feelings. If you were going to want me it was going to be a natural thing, not a magical incantation.”

“I dreamed about you, too,” he confessed. God, babe, I saw your face, I held your body. I felt your passion. I’ve tried to explain it away, but, I can’t. It was real. You reached out to me and I felt it. One night, I think I even felt your call. I heard your voice. I became restless; dissatisfied with my life and with the way I was living it. I wanted more. I wanted magic; in fact I remember actually saying those words in my mind.”

“That’s not all I did. When you didn’t come to me as quickly as I wanted, Arabella’s mother Elizabeth suggested a very powerful spell.” She spoke slowly, as if she expected him to stop her from speaking.

Eric was intrigued. “A powerful spell, tell me more.” A certain part of him was beginning to feel powerful. Being close to her was so intoxicating.

“Usually, when you cast a love spell, you have something personal that belongs to that individual like a photograph. I had nothing of yours, we had never met. So my aunt suggested that I use the sculpture I made of you.”

Suddenly, it all made sense to Eric. “The bronzes were part of your magic; they were part of your spell.” His eyes locked onto hers. “Evangeline, I still don’t know exactly how I feel about this, but I will tell you honestly; I have never been more fascinated, intrigued, mesmerized or turned on by anything or anybody in my life—not like this—not like you. And what I’ve got to know—Evangeline, is it real? Is what I’m feeling real?”

She rose up on her knees and put her arms around his neck. “Oh, sweet baby. It’s real for me. But, as for you? I pray that it’s real. I’ve went back over every word, every thought, every gesture. I did not do anything to manipulate your feelings. But, look at you, and look at me. Anybody else in the world would question why you are attracted to me. I am not in your league; I’m not even in the same ball park as you are.” Tears were beginning to shine in her eyes.

“Don’t say that. You are perfect. You are beautiful.” He kissed the tears away that were sliding down her cheeks.

“We have to try and find out. I’m going to do a release spell. I am going to pull back every magical intent I channeled toward you. And here’s what I need for you to do.” He listened, not exactly liking her tone. “I want you to see another woman. I want you to…” she hesitated, as if the very words hurt her to say them. “I want you to have sex with another woman, just to be sure.” Eric was shaking his head, no. But she persisted. “Yes, and I will accept a date from another man.”

She jumped at his explosion. “No! No! No! Hell no!” In one mighty move, he pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly against him. When she was that near to him, he calmed. He hadn’t been yelling at her. “If I’m under your spell, I don’t care. If what I feel is magic, I don’t want to feel anything else. Other women don’t interest me, and the thought of you with another man kills my soul. I can’t stand the thought of it.

She smoothed his hair. “I didn’t intend to sleep with anyone else, Eric. Just dinner or coffee.”

“No. I know what can happen after coffee.”

“Only with you, baby, only with you,” she reassured him.

Leaning her back against him, he felt more in control. “Tell me more about your family,” he encouraged her, wanting to get her mind off of another man.

“Do you remember hearing about Jade’s involvement in bringing down the serial killer, Lyle Sessions, who murdered all those women out near Wimberley?’

“Yea, some women psychics had found the bodies…” Then he stopped, realization hitting him. “Oh, that was your family. My God!”

“You need to talk to Jade and to Detective Garrison, they can give you some insight into being involved with my family, from a male point of view.”

The bell went off on the washing machine and Evangeline left to tend to the washing. “I’ll be right back,” she assured him. The clothes in the washer were his, the ones he had worn home from the fire. Not being able to stay away, he followed her. She was putting the clothes in the dryer, and when she backed up, she ran right into him. He steadied her. Thinking about what she did to him in the bathroom, he couldn’t resist asking. “What else can you do?”

Evangeline decided to show off just a little. It was dark in the laundry room, so an energy ball would shine like a star. She pressed her hands together and concentrated, creating an orb of energy in her mind—a small, glowing, warm ball of light. When she pulled her hands apart, the ball hovered over her hands, dancing like a Christmas decoration.

Eric stepped back. “Damn!” He reached out to touch it. She held it out to him, willing it to rise. It floated between them, a testament to her power and his acceptance. Then she threw it up in the air, and poof it was gone. Eric laughed and picked her up, swinging her around. “You are amazing!”

“No, Eric,” she spoke softly. “What’s amazing is that you are here with me, even after everything I’ve told you.” She held one of his big strong hands in her own, hands that were muscled and roughened from the work he did every day. “What’s amazing is what you do with your life—you help people, you put your life on the line, everyday.”

He picked her up and walked back to the couch with her. “Tell me about your mom and dad,” he encouraged her.

“I don’t remember my father, other than as somebody big and warm, who held me tight.” At her words, he tightened his hold on her, giving her that same, safe warm feeling she remembered. “Katrina took Mama when I was sixteen. I moved in with Nanette and Angelique in their big house in the Garden District of New Orleans. And that piano music that you heard, Eric—I know you’ve heard way more than most people could process in a year’s time, much less a day. But that music, it’s Mama, and just a day or two ago, I heard her voice.” Evangeline was still massaging his hand, remembering the day she sculpted it out of clay.

“Did you tell your grandmother about it?”

“Yes, and Angelique is gifted in that area. Sometime I’ll explain to you about our individual gifts, but Angelique can see spirits. She is the one that connected with the spirits of those murdered women out at Wimberley. And she says that whatever I am hearing, it’s not my Mama’s ghost.”