The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2 (10 page)

“See, Izzy likes you.”

Clarissa mentally rolled her eyes at Peach’s declaration and the fact that she’d already named the dog. “She’s probably just tenderizing my flesh for later. So does someone care to explain how mini Floyd ended up in Jade’s backpack?”

Of course Peach was the first to speak up. “We figured you’d throw a hissy about having a new addition to the household.”

They figured right. “Damn it, Peach.” She held up the little ball of fluff, intending to make her stance clear. “Who’s going to take care of it? Feed and bathe it, not to mention train it so it doesn’t wet or poop in the house?”

“We’ll take turns.”

“Right. Because clearly you’ve done such a fantastic job with Floyd.”

Peach’s face scrunched in her typical stubborn frown. “You don’t have the final say in everything that happens in this house.”

The statement was like salt in an open wound, and yet another reminder that her place within the coven was tantamount to a thinly erected illusion vanishing before her eyes.

“We took it to a vote,” Peach piped up again, oblivious of Clarissa’s glum musings. “Izzy stays.”

A smothering blanket of weariness settled on her shoulders. She was too tired, both mentally and physically, to argue anymore. Some battles simply weren’t worth it. She set the puppy on the floor and stepped back, spreading her arms wide. “Fine. You want to keep her, go right ahead. But I’m not picking up her damn poop, understood?”

Peach blinked, struck mute for probably the first time ever in her life. Jade filled the silent void instead. “You mean it? We can really keep Izzy?”

Clarissa knuckled her temples and nodded.

“And Floyd,” Peach demanded, finally finding her tongue. “Izzy needs a father figure. Someone to show her all the doggie ropes.”

Sweet goddess, there was a terrifying picture. Two mutts tearing up the house. The tension in her head intensified, another reminder that giving in would be easier than listening to a minimum of two hours of nonstop complaining from Peach. “He’s going to have to be fixed. No more mini Floyds running around here.”

Peach pumped her fist in victory just as Griffin strode into the parlor. He raised his eyebrows. “What’s the celebration?”

“We’re keeping Izzy. And Floyd’s getting neutered.”

Griffin grimaced. “Somehow I doubt Floyd is going to be thrilled about that part.” He glanced back at Clarissa and did a double take. “Isn’t that the same outfit you were wearing yesterday?” Not surprisingly, his observation managed to draw everyone’s scrutiny to Clarissa’s clothing.

“Sure looks like it to me.” Peach’s gaze turned calculating. “Come to think of it, I don’t remember you coming home last night.”

Son of a bitch. Clarissa chewed the corner of her lip. “I did, but it was late. You were probably already in bed.” Her headache showing signs of getting worse, she scooted past Griffin and continued down the hall to the kitchen. Grabbing an ice-cold soda from the fridge, she escaped to her office and dug in her desk for the bottle of aspirin she always kept close by. She popped two tablets and chased them down with a swig from the soda before plopping onto her chair. Pressing the pop can against her forehead, she shivered, pleasurable goose bumps cropping across her flushed skin as both the aspirin and the can’s cool condensation did their thing.

Something soft and squishy brushed against the top of her foot, and she jumped. Corking her yelp, she glanced down and spied Izzy draped across her shoe. The puppy attempted to wedge its nose between Clarissa’s ankle and the upper strap of her high heels.

“You better not be thinking about peeing on my foot.”

Instead of doing that—thank goddess—the puppy started chewing on the tiny buckle on Clarissa’s ankle strap. She sighed. “Do you have something against Steve Madden? Honestly, those shoes cost me a pretty penny. And I kind of like them.” She was talking to a puppy like it understood what she was saying. Shit, she was more tired than she’d originally thought. Reaching down, she picked up Izzy and placed her a safe distance away. “Go on now. Shoo. Peach has a whole closet of shoes I’m sure she’d just love for you to wreck.”

Rather than obey, the puppy waddled back to Clarissa’s foot and made herself at home again. Clarissa sucked in a deep breath, channeling her inner Zen. Yeah, like that place remotely existed. “Really, I have stuff to do. You’re not helping me here.” She tried moving Izzy again, but the pup had apparently decided to become permanently attached to her foot. “Peach put you up to this, didn’t she?” Muttering beneath her breath, she scooped up the puppy. After giving Izzy a silent look of warning, she placed the dog on her lap, where Izzy immediately curled into a ball and rumbled a contented snore. For such a little thing, it was damn loud. There was no way in hell she’d ever get any work done now.

Left with not much else to occupy herself, Clarissa stroked her fingers through Izzy’s glossy fur. The throbbing in her temples began to lessen, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a tiny piece of calm clicked in place.

Her mouth crooked into a wry half smile. “Don’t think this changes anything. I’m still not picking up your poop.”

Sometime around eleven, Clarissa woke to the sound of a thump and a puppy-like growl.

“What the fuck? There’s a dog in your bed.”

She blinked the sleep from her eyes, barely making out Logan’s shadowy outline looming above her. “That’s Izzy, Floyd’s illegitimate offspring and apparently the newest member of the coven. The little faker wouldn’t stop whimpering until I let her up here with me.”

“That’s all it took to get in your bed? Shit, why didn’t I try that?”

Her vision slowly adjusted to the inky darkness, and she watched as Logan stripped off his T-shirt, jeans and briefs. “What are you doing?”

He bent and grabbed something from his pant’s pocket. A condom? Half a second later, the unmistakable rip of a foil packet verified her suspicion.

“What do you think?” The sexy promise in his low voice made her breath quicken, and her pussy grew damp.

Despite her arousal, a thread of panic shot through her. They couldn’t do this here, with all of the others within earshot. What if someone overheard them? She started to sit up, but her arms pulled tight over her head, preventing her from lifting. Mystified, she tried to move her hands, her bafflement increasing when they wouldn’t budge from the slatted headboard.

“It’s no use, shug. I tied you in good.”

She gaped at Logan’s dim outline. “You
tied
me to the bed?” She wasn’t sure what bemused her more—the fact that he had, or that she’d slept through it.

“Yep. Figured I’d forget about it, didn’t ya?”

“Forget?” She tracked back to the wicked picture he’d deliberately painted in her mind the previous night, when he’d had her pinned against the wall in the back hallway of Tatum’s. Her pulse accelerated. “You mean…”

“Yeah, baby. I’m in the mood for a late-night snack.” His form disengaging from the shadows, Logan stepped closer. He peeled the bedcovers down, and another small growl issued from Izzy, presumably her way of bitching at having her sleep disturbed. Logan patted the wad of bedding where the puppy was snuggled. “Hush, or you’re goin’ on the floor.”

Izzy immediately shut up, and Clarissa grunted. “What is that? Some kind of doggie mind control?”

Logan knelt at the foot of the bed, causing the mattress to dip. “She respects her alpha.” His hands caressed over her ankles before moving higher and smoothing along her calves. “Something you could use a lesson on.”

She wanted to snort at his outrageous arrogance—truly she did—but the heat of his palms on her flesh, along with the hypnotic glow of his amber irises as he leaned over her, played havoc with her brain and body. She attempted to distract herself by craning her neck and trying to see what he’d tied her with. The angle of her head made it impossible though.

“They’re a pair of stockings,” Logan said, obviously taking pity on her plight.

“Mine?”

He chuckled. “Well, they’re sure as hell not mine.”

“Logan, we can’t do this.” She attempted to inject a modicum of calm reason in her voice. Something she failed miserably at, considering the breathless way she’d whispered the words.

“It’s a little late to play hard to get, shug.” As if taunting her, Logan tickled the inside of her calf, making her squirm. “Besides, I like havin’ you at my mercy like this. No way I’m passin’ up the opportunity to do all kinds of wicked things.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that this had nothing to do with playing coy, and everything to do with ensuring they wouldn’t get busted by her coven sisters. But once again, the blistering-hot promise in Logan’s tone had her protests dying in her throat. Instead, she swallowed and licked her lips before voicing the one question most prominently featured in her mind. “Wh-what kind of wicked things?”

Logan’s slow smile revealed his triumph. The bastard knew he had her. “For starters, I’m plannin’ on gorging on you. And I’ll take my sweet time with it.” His fingertips danced upward, flirting with the scalloped hem of her cotton sleep shorts. “You’ll beg me to go faster, beg me to make you come, but that won’t happen until I’m good and ready.”

The firm authority in his tone provoked another of those decadent shivers throughout her body, and her clit throbbed in anticipation of the delicious torture Logan was about to inflict on it. It occurred to her again that she shouldn’t like this, having the control stripped away from her.

So why was her pussy wetter than it had ever been? It must be the situation. Being trussed to her bed with her own damn stockings. Sweet goddess, she was truly warped.

“I can smell how aroused you are.” Logan’s voice was practically the consistency of gravel. Just the sound of it turned her on like crazy. He slid his palms beneath the legs of her shorts and cupped her ass before delving his fingers into the crease between her cheeks. With teasing lightness, he grazed over the sensitive tissue of her perineum. She held her breath as his fingertip dipped against her hidden pucker.

“I’m gonna fuck you here too. Not tonight. But soon.”

“What if I don’t w-want it?”

“Then I’d honor your decision to say no.” The pad of his finger stroked her, its soft, seductive glide coaxing a moan from her throat. “But I’m bankin’ on a different word comin’ from your mouth when I’m feastin’ on your pussy, gettin’ you hot and desperate for my cock. By the time I’m done, you’ll want me sinkin’ balls-deep in every single one of your holes. And I will, baby. I’ll give you everything you crave.”

The fire raging through her body threatened to consume her. She arched against his hand, a needy whimper escaping. “Logan…”

With a growl, he tugged the shorts off her and settled between her legs. She caught another flash of those glinting, predatory eyes before his head descended. Her body tensed, preparing for a thorough devouring, but all she got was a teasing flicker from his tongue. She bit her lip to keep from wailing at him to lick her faster. Deeper. Remembering his promise to make her beg, she huffed in the back of her throat. Logan chuckled. Goddamn rat bastard.

He hummed against her slit for a millisecond, making her see stars. “Mm, you’re fuckin’ sweet.”

“More than I can say about you.”

“Aw, shug. That any way to talk to a guy while he’s eatin’ you out?”

“Please. You’re barely licking me.”

He lifted away from her, and she almost wept in frustration.

“The first lesson in respectin’ your alpha is to trust that he knows what’s best. For us both, Rissa.” The intensity in Logan’s gaze excited and frightened her. But it wasn’t him that scared her. No, what terrified her was the hidden compartment deep within her soul that read the possessiveness within his stare—and wanted to submit to it.

A tiny seed of panic starting to take root, she struggled against her bonds. Logan’s shadowed features darkened with desire. Something far more dangerous than a self-assured confidence that promised a few hours of mind-numbing pleasure lurked within the depths of his eyes. The responding tug within her heart increased her agitation, and she wrestled harder with the restraints. “Let me out of these.”

“No.”

“I’ll make you, if I have to.”

He shrugged. “Go ahead and whammy me. You’ll still be tied up.”

Panting furiously, she glared at him. He ignored her outrage and lowered his head before blowing a stream of air across her throbbing flesh. Her hips arched, and he caught her around the waist, burying his face in her pussy. He sucked on her clit, the pulsing of his tongue firm and commanding. She cried out at the unexpected intensity of it. Her heart racing, she prayed neither Peach nor Gloria—both occupying the neighboring rooms—had heard her and would decide to come and investigate.

Logan continued his fierce devouring until her thighs were shaking and she was forced to sink her teeth into her bottom lip to keep her loud moans caged. The looming orgasm crept closer, and her toes clenched in the tangled sheet. He backed off, and she gasped in disbelief as the climax slowly dissolved.

“I’m not leavin’ ya hangin’. But there’s a change of plans. I want you comin’ around me.” He stretched over her, his mouth seeking hers as his cock nudged her slit. She could taste herself on him. The notion that her essence somehow marked him as hers flitted through her mind, a concept that thrilled her as much as it alarmed her.

Sex. This was only—

He shifted between her legs, sinking a little deeper inside her. The orgasm she’d thought long gone reemerged with a ferocity that stole her breath. Logan bore down, his hands sliding forward to curl around hers and press against the headboard slats. He gave a shallow pump, dragging out the ripples of exquisite pleasure. “That’s it, baby. Come on my cock.”

She shuddered and gasped, her entire body arching into Logan. A husky growl vibrated against her neck, followed by the distinct imprint of his canines pricking her flesh. His intention pierced her consciousness and she froze, her pulse skittering.

He was about to mark her as his mate. Permanently. His jaw locked into position, the soft whiskers of his goatee brushing her skin. Her paralysis of shock broke. “Logan, n-no.”