The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2 (22 page)

She gulped at the predatory promise in his voice. His wolf’s leash was strained to the max. To test it would probably lead to her dress torn to shreds and his cock buried inside her pussy. Okay, that was likely to happen regardless. The deciding factor would be whether it’d go down behind the privacy of the enclosed garden walls or in front of a crowd of spectators. Seeing how she didn’t want to ruin Jemma’s day with a public sex show, it’d be best not to balk. “Ten minutes.”

He grazed his fingertips along the inside of her wrist before letting her go.

She practically sprinted to Jemma and Griffin’s side, bestowing each with hugs and kisses. Fortunately, a continuous swell of well-wishers bombarded the newlyweds, giving her an opportunity to covertly sneak away. Elbowing through the throng, she took one last check of the kitchen to ensure Floyd hadn’t somehow gotten into the cakes and other goodies. Satisfied that everything seemed to be under control, she hurried outside and darted in the direction of the celestial garden. She passed through the archway, and the next thing she knew, she was in Logan’s arms, getting the daylights kissed out of her. He pressed her against the wooden door, his knuckles bumping her tailbone as he fumbled to secure the key in the lock. A moment later, his hands roved over every inch of her body, hiking her skirt higher and higher.

He broke their wild, ravenous kiss long enough to work her zipper down and the dress floated to the pavers. Her bra and panties soon followed. The scorching warmth of his mouth descended, a feral growl issuing from his throat as he latched onto a nipple. Each gentle tug of his teeth and lash of his tongue ricocheted down to her clit. Gasping, she tugged at his jacket, desperate to feel the hot, velvety sleekness of his skin against hers.

Taking the hint, he ripped impatiently at his clothes, allowing her to strip the jacket and shirt free while he grappled with his trousers and briefs. Finally he was oh-so-gloriously naked, too, and she danced her fingertips over his sculpted chest and the ridges of his abdomen. She sucked on the hardened nubs of his nipples, thrilling at the husky moan that poured from him. His eyes resembling chips of brilliant amber, he upended her into his arms and carried her toward one of the stone benches. He’d padded it with one of the extra blankets from the house, affording it a comfortable cushiness she appreciated as she stretched out. “You put a lot of thought into this.”

“An hour and a half’s worth.” He reached under the bench and held up a bottle of champagne. “Even managed to steal this.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not much of a champagne drinker.”

“Good. ’Cause I wasn’t plannin’ on sharin’.” His expression dark and wicked, he popped the cork. A shower of the golden liquid foamed over the top, spraying her. He lowered his head and licked the droplets from her breasts before drizzling more champagne along her torso, until the cold liquor pooled in her bellybutton. Lapping her clean of every last drop, he maneuvered them both toward the end of the bench, coaxing her thighs open.

He hoisted the bottle over her mound and let the liquid trickle free.

Her hips bucked as the icy effervescence drenched her clit and labia, the tiny bubbles like a million kisses along her slick, throbbing flesh. Just as she swore she’d die from the pleasure of it, Logan’s tongue rasped through the wetness. A flare of magical, violet sparkles no less dazzling than the champagne’s bubbles ignited from her as an orgasm slammed her from out of the blue. Logan continued pouring the fountain of liquid, his demanding tongue stringing her climax to the dizzying max.

Eventually the champagne fizzled to nothing, and she uttered a weak, laughing groan as the hot glare of her magic’s excess slowly waned. “Thank the goddess. Too much more of that and people would have come running, thinking we were setting off fireworks.”

Logan licked his lips, his goatee sparkling from the bubbles. “We were. My favorite type—a Rissa sparkler show.”

She chuckled. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“Bartendin’ gives me ample time for dirty daydreamin’.” He slid his palms along her thighs before reaching under the bench again. For one worrisome moment, she thought he might have another champagne bottle stashed under there. Her sanity breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed the condom packet in his hand. After sheathing himself, he stood and swung his leg over the bench. He positioned his cock against her slit, its thick girth stretching and filling her as he leaned forward to kiss her. His tongue teasing hers, he banded his arm around the small of her back, tugging her down in concert with the roll and thrust of his hips. The plump head of his cock bumped into her cervix, provoking decadent ripples throughout her body. His tongue retreated, and he caressed her cheek with his free hand. “I wish I wasn’t wearin’ the condom. Then I could feel you, all hot and wet around me. I could give you babies.”

The last part of his admission left her stunned. She was pretty damn sure her face showed it, but Logan just kept stroking her. Inside and out. The luscious friction of his gliding cock was making it difficult to concentrate on much of anything else. Which no doubt was his evil plan. Dirty bastard.

“I wanna do it right though. No offense to Catman and Jemma, but you’re gonna wear my ring before we start makin’ babies and fillin’ up the nursery.”

She stared at him, her head whirling like she was the one who’d guzzled all of the champagne. “Logan, I—” The remainder of her protest morphed into a stuttered moan when he reached between them and circled her clit with his thumb. Her already over-primed body pulled tight in anticipation of the oncoming climax.

“I know you’re scared, Rissa. Scared of lettin’ me in. But you don’t have to be, because I love you.” His eyes shone with the testimony of his feelings. “I’m never gonna stop lovin’ you.”

With that bittersweet declaration suspended between them, she broke, the orgasm both delicious and agonizing because he was offering her everything she’d ever wanted.

And everything she could never have.

Chapter Eighteen

Logan frowned at the lone hovering cloud as the Harley cruised past the congested beach traffic heading the opposite direction. Today was too damn perfect, too ripe with possibilities, to allow even a single cloud to mar the horizon. Too bad Mother Nature hadn’t gotten the memo about such things.

No matter. He wasn’t about to let it put a damper on his mood. Granted, he hadn’t been thrilled sleeping by his lonesome last night. But he’d understood the necessity. He’d laid his cards out on the table for Clarissa when he’d told her he wanted to marry her and begin a family. He’d taken one look at the panic on her face after they’d made love and known she’d needed breathing room to let it all sink in. Hence the reason he hadn’t balked when she’d declined going home with him yesterday. But now
he
needed to ensure she hadn’t freaked and skipped town. Which was why he’d hopped out of bed the minute the sun crested in the eastern sky.

He knew he’d rushed it yesterday, but there’d been no preventing it. There was no way in hell he could have gone another day without making his intentions crystal clear. She was his world. From this day forward, his status as her familiar and convenient lover was being upped to that of lifetime mate—something that’d been in the making for seven years.

Destiny was about to come full circle.

Gunning it to full throttle, he roared onto the highway. Fifteen minutes later, he coasted into the coven house’s driveway and cut the engine. He yanked off the helmet and was bombarded by the buzzing drone of cicadas. Other than the incessant lullaby of the insects, it seemed eerily quiet compared to yesterday’s festive hoopla. Relief washed over him when he peeked in the garage and spotted the Miata. Unless Clarissa had decided to hitch it, she hadn’t hightailed it out of Dodge. That was a good sign, at least.

He jogged up the porch steps and made his way into the house. Just as he was about to take the stairs to Clarissa’s bedroom, he noticed that her office door was closed. Pretty much the only time she shut it was when she was in there, hiding. Mostly from him. Rerouting his path, he ventured down the hall and rapped on the door.

Her muffled “Come in” leaked through the solid oak, and he twisted the doorknob, stepping inside.

He met her unwavering gaze, his heart plummeting a notch as he took in her cool aloofness. He wasn’t entirely surprised by her reception, but it didn’t ease the sting of his disappointment. “You’ve pulled up the shields.”

She frowned. “Pardon?”

“You can stop pretendin’ you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about. This is you and me, Rissa. We’re done playin’ these games.”

He stalked forward and planted his hands on her desk, looming over her. As expected, she didn’t much like being placed in a position of perceived weakness. After scooping Izzy from her lap and lowering the puppy to the floor, she lurched to her feet. “What the hell were you thinking, bringing up babies?”

“I also brought up us gettin’ married. Get used to it. I’m gonna be talkin’ about those two subjects a lot. So many damn times you’re gonna get sick of it and eventually say yes just to shut me up. Then I can be the happiest fuckin’ bastard on the planet.”

Her eyes welled up and her lips trembled. “Please don’t do this to me.”

“I have to, baby. If I let you be, you’re gonna just keep retreatin’ into that shell. There’s no room in there for me, and I damn well can’t live without you.”

“You have to.” She shoved shaking fingers through her tangled hair. “I’m leaving. And you’re right—there’s no room for you where I’m going.”

He stared at her, confused. When her words finally sank in, he felt like he’d been sucker punched. “What the hell do you mean you’re
leaving
? For how long?”

“Forever.”

He couldn’t even comprehend the word. Not when it didn’t include him. Them. “You’re the goddamn mistress of this coven—”

“Not anymore. I resigned the position last night. Fiona is the new mistress as of this morning,” she explained calmly, as if she weren’t babbling a stream of nonsense that made the blood pound in his eardrums. “She’s going to need a lot of help adjusting to the newness of her responsibilities. I trust you’ll step up to the plate in the interim.”

“I’m not her familiar. I’m
yours
.”

“Not anymore. I’m absolving you from our contract.”

The thunderous whoosh of fury and fear exploding in his head was almost deafening. “Like hell you are.”

Her lips formed the sacred words that would break the contract and sever the threads of their witch-familiar link. An anguished roar ripped from his throat, but it was too late. Already he felt the fibers of their connection unraveling. His inner wolf howled, clawing like a desperate, wounded beast, prodding him into action. He leapt around the edge of the desk, intent on getting her to see reason. To not give up on them. He slammed into an invisible wall and stumbled back, falling against another. Clarissa scooted sideways, and he made to follow, only to discover he was boxed in on that side too.

He glared at her. “You can’t whammy me anymore, so you resort to the next best thing? Turnin’ me into a fuckin’ mime in a glass box, only with sound?” Muffled, as it were.

“I didn’t want it to come to this.”

Tears were spilling down her cheeks. Even in his infuriated state, the sight of them still twisted his insides. “Then let me out of here, baby. We’ll get through this. Whatever it takes.”

She inched forward, her eyes so watery they could have passed for miniature green lakes. “My whole life I’ve known what it’s like to want something I can never have. I never wanted to make anyone else feel this way. You deserve to have those babies. Sweet goddess, I wish I could be the one to give you them. But I can’t.” Her fingers aligned with his, the invisible barrier keeping them from truly touching. It was an ironic reflection of their entire existence together. “Please, don’t waste the rest of your life like I’ve done. You’re wonderful and loving and any woman w-would be lucky to have you.”

“There is no other woman for me, Rissa.” He pressed against the shield, cursing it to hell.

“Yes, there is.” Her hands slid away and she backed up.

“This coven won’t survive without you.
I
won’t survive without you.” He yelled the words, despite knowing they fell on deaf ears. Frustration cramping his chest, he watched as she turned and ran from the office.

Clarissa didn’t know how long it would take her coven sisters to discover Logan or to break the spell for the holding box. Guessing her time was limited at best, she floored the gas pedal until she hit the city limits. She’d given most of her goodbyes, the most painful being the one she’d just fled from. Now she faced the last difficult one.

The Lafayette nursing home came into view and she slowed, waiting for the traffic to clear so she could swing a left into the service drive. Three minutes later, she parked the car and made her way to the entrance. No one was manning the registration counter, so she walked down the corridor to her dad’s room. Rather than snoozing in his bed, he was sitting in the chair in front of the window, staring at the bank of azaleas on the other side. There was something about the stoop of his shoulders and the haggard lines chiseled extra deep in his face today that disturbed her. When he glanced her way, she finally determined what it was.

His eyes weren’t vacant. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever seeing them look so clear. The misery pooled in their depths pinched her heart.

“I remember.”

Oh, sweet goddess. No.

His hands shook like they were palsied, and she waited for him to lash out at her for what she’d done, for what she’d driven him to.

“Rissy…” His voice broke and a cracked sob escaped him. “The hell I’ve sentenced you to. Jesus, it should be me.”

She hurtled forward and dropped to her knees, hugging his frail, trembling frame to her. “Don’t ever say that.”

“It’s true. My stupidity and selfishness brought that monster here.
I
called it. Not you. All because I wanted to remember her differently.
Me
differently. Something better than what we really were.”