Bewitching the Werewolf Page 2

  Chapter 3

  I took the opportunity to dress up very seriously. It sounds stupid, but I have a thing for little black dresses. Especially when they are on a clearance rack. And it happens a lot, because all women love a little black dress, and yet, have nowhere to go.

  Hence, they go on clearance until some chump like me comes along and buys it. Even though I know I’ll just stick it in my closet and watch it turn grey from dust.

  But not tonight!

  There was a knock on the door at 6:30 sharp. I opened the door and there was Zack. He was wearing a tux. An expensive, custom made tux, which meant that not only did I get to see how square his broad shoulders were, but I could see his lean waist and imagine the washboard abs that were undoubtedly rippling with every breath.

  Dogs aren’t the only ones who drool.

  “Hi. You look wonderful.” He was looking me up and down like he meant it.

  I blushed and beckoned him inside.

  I just needed perfume and my purse. He followed me in, glancing around the room. I grabbed my perfume off the bed and was about to spritz it on when Zack spoke up.

  “Sorry, could you not put perfume on? I’ve got a massive headache and my super power is a heightened sense of smell.” He seemed apologetic.

  “Sure. No problem.” Super-smell? I couldn’t imagine that was much of a plus. “I already put on body lotion. Hopefully it’s not too strong.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I’d never had to apologize for smelling good before. “Do you want me to get rid of your headache?”

  He looked at my lips. “Can you do that?”

  I tried desperately not to lick them or slap my hand over my mouth to hide myself away from him.

  “Yeah. Start getting your money’s worth, huh? Just sit down.”

  He unbuttoned the jacket of his suit and sat down on the bed. The only chair was covered in clothes. There is no magic spell for putting clothes away, trust me.

  My stomach flip-flopped. I had this desperate urge to push him back and climb on top of him. Hot, hot, man.

  Trapped in my room.

  And now he’s on my bed.

  Unbuttoning his clothes.

  Yowzah.

  Zack looked at me, his nostrils flaring slightly and I had this sudden and profound worry that he could smell my desire. His hands went to his thighs and he rubbed his pants briefly as though cold.

  “Or I could give you an Advil?” I said, hoping he’d take me up on it. It was entirely possible I would sexually assault him if I got too close.

  And I think that might be enough to get me fired.

  His gaze met mine before sliding down my body like I was a bloody steak. It was the wolf who was watching me now. Cold and calculating instead of the Ivy League businessman. His voice was little more than a growl that vibrated through me. “No. You do it.”

  Oh mama.

  I took a step closer to him and then another, so that I was standing right between his legs. A chair would have been better—then I could have stood behind him. But the only thing worse than standing between his legs would be crawling onto the bed behind him.

  He leaned back, tilting his head up so he could watch my face. He appeared relaxed but I didn’t see how he could be. He inhaled as I came close to him, eyes closing in a long blink. When he opened them again, they were golden.

  I raised my hands to his hair while he watched me. My fingers sank into the soft mass and I think one of us moaned aloud. His hair was soft but crisp, thick and dense. I felt his aura, had to push through the invisible barrier to reach him. Zack was the alpha for his pack. All that energy tightly coiled around him protected him and gave him some natural immunity to witchcraft unless I was able to get underneath it.

  I shivered, then breathed deeper, trying to relax and let his aura coat mine and focus on him alone. After a few moments, I looked down at Zack. “Are you staring at my chest?”

  “No. That would be wrong,” he said, still staring at my breasts that were inches from his nose.

  “Can you relax and try to open yourself up a little so I can reach you?”

  “Open myself up a little,” he murmured, like he didn’t quite understand. He shifted a little and I felt him try to accept me, my aura suddenly merging with his. It was a little disorienting, like I was suddenly me and a little bit someone else.

  I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and channel my energy and magic from me to him. Magical energy that nipped across my nerves like red ants swept up my body, seeped from my core and heart down through my arms, into my fingers and into him. His hands tightened on the bedspread and I felt his whole body go tense. It shouldn’t hurt but he looked like he was in pain.

  “I’m almost there.”

  “Tell me about it,” he mumbled darkly.

  Uh-oh. Magic is unpredictable. It affects different people in different ways. Sometimes it’s relaxing, other times it hurts and, occasionally, magic is pleasurable.

  Even pleasurable magic has levels; it can feel like that fleeting sensation one has on that first bite of ice cream. Or it can be like an adrenaline rush that makes one’s heart pound and steals your breath.

  And every now and again, if the chemistry is just right, the planets are aligned, gods are smiling down upon you, etc., it can feel like that shining moment just before orgasm.

  And there is always a backlash. A fraction of whatever they are feeling comes back to me along with the magic. Or in this case, the pain from his headache.

  And it was just about to hit me.

  I’ve done this awhile. I knew which category he fell into and I also knew that if we were not careful we’d have sex on this bed-- fundraiser and gainful employment be damned. I tried to brace myself a little. Like adjusting my stance for a punch. But the magic returned to me, slamming into me like a WWF wrestler on Crank.

  The magic had me damp and panting, feeling desperate and empty. My body felt like one of those videos of a flower blooming at high speed.

  I swayed forward, arching my body closer to his, forearms along both sides of his head, almost shoving his face into my cleavage as I tried to reel the magic back into my body.

  With a moan, I climbed onto the bed, my thigh sliding along the outside of his so I could straddle him and shove him back onto the bed. Instantly, his hand grabbed onto me, just below my ass, pulling me into him with a guttural noise. His other arm wrapped around my waist, hauling me into his lap, his fingers sliding my little black dress up to my hips so he could press his erection flush against my core.

  This was very bad.

  He was huge, hard and perfect against me. Impotence was definitely not the problem. Any second now he was going to throw me down on the bed and take me. His aura had changed, spiked with desire and passion. His hands were on my waist, trembling in agitation to move as he held still.

  “It’s almost done. Just a second!” I gasped out. His fingers clenched against my skin, moving along the silky material so he had a good grip on each cheek as he tried to get me a little closer to his cock.

  My magic sped through him like a tornado instead of a breeze, the areas of pain and tension like a red neon sign blurred in the fog. My aura coated his, dissipating the tension, channeling it back into me.

  It was quick, no more than a few seconds.

  I pulled my magic back out of him, neutralizing it and pushing it away from me. The magic was gone but the desire wasn’t.

  Don’t fuck the client.

  I jerked backwards, nylons making my legs slippery on the bedspread. I was falling to the floor but he caught me, righting me so we both stood, facing each other.

  I pulled away from him and went to the chair, sitting down with a thunk, on top of all the clothes. Zack sat back down on the bed, his head in his hands as he took deep breaths. Now he really looked like a man in pain.

  Very calmly, head still in his hands as he looked at the floor, he said, “You know, we used to have a witch on retainer. And it never felt like that.” T
hen he turned, a very forbidding and closed expression on his face as he scrutinized my appearance.

  “Magic is unpredictable. That was my fault. I should have shielded differently…uh, it won’t happen again. We don’t want to be late.” I stood up and grabbed my purse from the table, making a beeline for the door. I reached for the handle but he was right behind me, hand on the door near my head, keeping it closed.

  “Not so fast. Has that happened before?”

  I didn’t want to turn around. See him that close to me, lips close enough to touch, body close enough to press up against. I felt his head descending towards my neck, heard him sucking in a deep breath.

  “Do you want all your clients this much? Is this why you get the big retainer?”

  My laugh was brittle. “No. But it happens sometimes. Not often, thankfully.”

  I actually didn’t know anyone that it happened to. It was one of those rumors wiccans tell each other—the orgasmic aura—like ghost stories, a get rich spell, or having multiple orgasms. It wasn’t supposed to be true!

  I was here to find this guy a mate, not sleep with him.

  “Did you do it on purpose? Get me all hot and bothered, then send me into a room full of my own kind and hope I fuck someone in a darkened corner while every professional contact I have is there? This isn’t just fundraising but networking and talking to clients. It’s not a joke. Whatever you are going to do is something I need to know about and approve. I’m not going to be led around by my dick, do you understand?”

  I turned around and had to look up to him. He was too close so I pushed on his chest, moving him back from me a little. “I didn’t do it on purpose! I am actually a professional. It was an accident and it won’t happen again, alright?”

  “If it does, you’re fired.”

  “If it does, I quit!”

  His eyes were a golden brown and I could almost see the wolf pacing inside of him. He licked his lips and took a step closer to me, the air whooshing out of my chest as I realized that he was about to kiss me.

  “You’re not going tonight. I’ll call you in the morning. This may not work out, you understand? Be ready to pack your bags.” Then he reached beyond me, yanking open the door, while I scampered out of the way.

  He jerked past me, the door pulled open so hard it slammed into the wall. He cursed and threw me an irritated glance, clearly infuriated at the loss of control. Then he was gone.

  And I had the sad realization that I was all dressed up with nowhere to go.