Kiss & Spell (2 page)

Chapter Two

God,
that was close.

Marissa sat in the
café, trembling. She'd never had to rein in her power before. If she wanted a man, she kissed him and that was that. Difficulties over. Problem solved. Her magic kiss wrapped him up in a fog of lust and dutiful obedience.

Justin was different.
When she’d spotted him walking down the street, her low spirits had lifted. She liked him.
Really
liked him. He was handsome in all the right ways—tall, blue-eyed, sandy brown hair that dropped down over one eye just so and a big, powerful body. Her attraction to him, though, hinged on more than the physical. He could keep up with her repartee better than any man she’d ever met. Whenever she’d coax a laugh or smile out of him, a thrill would run through her. Because of that, she’d decided long ago he was off limits. Justin had become her touchstone against which all men were measured. She liked the purity of their relationship, and the fact she hadn’t degraded it with magic. He was the one man she’d never allow herself to have.

Up until now, she’d had no trouble resisting
the urge to use her power on Justin. A bar like the Three Crowns Pub swam with eligible men every night. This morning, though, the power of the kiss had become too much for her. She wanted to indulge. She wanted to know what Justin would be like at her mercy with that hard, handsome body writhing under her touch. She closed her eyes and imagined him calling out her name as he came in her mouth.

L
ast night's guilt flooded back. She’d grown sick of the Marissa who used and abused men. She imagined a world without Justin and his friendship, tenuous as it might be. If she’d indulged herself this morning, everything would’ve been ruined. Horrified she’d even considered Justin as a conquest, she headed for the safety of her house in the hills, where she could wrap up in a quilt, crash on her couch, and sleep until noon.

Maybe it was time to move on. Her mother had often suggested that idea.
Witches lived as solitary creatures among regular humans. A coven of witches would draw too much attention, make things dangerous. Plus, too much time in one place tended to pique the curiosity of nosy neighbors and well meaning acquaintances. A twinge of sadness filled Marissa’s heart at the thought of leaving Justin behind. If she wanted him to be safe from her magic, however, it might be her only choice.

Marissa opened her front door. “Mink? Where are you kitty, kitty?” Her sweet black cat had a way of soothing her loneliness with a few swishes of his tail.

Mink didn’t appear. Marissa tensed. Something wasn’t right. She stepped into her foyer. The presence of a witch much more powerful than she filled the room.

"Marissa, dear, I've been waiting for you." A familiar voice called to her from her living room. "I hope you don't mind that I made myself at home."

Demetria Rostov, her gray hair wild around two dark eyes and a thin red mouth, tilted back in a recliner chair, a cup of steaming something in her hands.

"What are you doing here?”
Marissa could forget about taking a nap. She'd be lucky if she could convince Demetria to leave before the sun set. “I don't have anything I want to trade with you. Especially today."

Demetria came and went like the fog that infiltrated the northern California coast in the summer. Here one day, gone the next.
She had a reputation for making trades and playing games, which Marissa’s mother had warned her about for as long as she could remember. Demetria had never troubled Marissa, so she’d never taken stock in her mother’s warnings. Marissa had assumed the stories her mother told had been an exaggeration to keep her in line.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Demetria set her cup on the table next to the recliner. Demetria
took pains to stand out. She’d never lived a normal life among humans. She dressed all in black, kept her hair wild, and used her magic whenever she could get away with it. “I've come a long way to meet with you." She tented her fingers on her stomach.

Marissa dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and snapped her fingers. A mug of coffee appeared in a shower of sparks. "Is that so?"

Demetria sniffed the air. "You have the scent of man on you, and sex."

Her back to the ancient witch, Marissa’s cheeks heated in embarrassment. "I don't see how that is any of your business." She flicked her fingers, and the dishwasher magically unloaded itself. She hoped the distraction would show the old bat she didn’t care what she had to say.

"Have you tired yet of your kiss, my dear?

I
f Demetria only knew the truth—her magical gift was a curse. Demetria was all about tricks, however, so Marissa kept silent.

"I might have a way for you to be rid of it, if you wish."

Marissa hesitated. A clean spatula flew into an open drawer. Be rid of it? "What do you mean?"

The recliner creaked
as Demetria got up. "Ah, I thought that might interest you."

Mink app
eared from the laundry room off the kitchen, his whiskers twitched and his tail snaked back and forth. When Demetria came nearer, the black cat ducked back inside to hide behind the dryer. Even the cat didn't trust this witch. Marissa faced her. "I don't know what kind of trick you have up your sleeve, but . . . "

Demetria leaned against the counter. "It's a bet I'm offering."

"A bet?" Marissa’s mind slowed to a crawl as she mulled over Demetria’s words. All the tricks and schemes she thought Demetria might have planned for her, and she wanted to make a bet? A wager between witches was serious business. Signed in blood. A pact that couldn't be broken.

"Yes, I have an offer for you. Something I think you'll be interested in." The older witch set her empty tea cup on the counter.

"I'm listening."

"My challenge is this: Make a man fall in love with you without using your magic kiss. If you succeed, you can keep your power and the man, permanently. If you fail, you give your power to me
and lose the man forever." Her thin lips curled into a wicked smile that shouldn't be trusted.

Demetria
’s offer tempted her. Marissa had been wishing for an end to the curse of the magic kiss. A way to find love.
Real
love. No more meaningless nights of sex with one man after another. Her mind flitted to Justin. She could have him. She could really, truly have him. "How long will I have?"

"A week."

How hard could it be to make Justin fall in love? She saw humans falling in love all the time. A little flirting, a little talking, and he'd be hers, right? "I'll do it." The words were out of her mouth before she could contemplate it further.

Demetria's smile grew even wider. "Smart choice, my dear. A magical gift like that is a burden. I understand."

The older witch’s words fell on deaf ears. Marissa couldn't care less what the old hag had to say. This was a way out.

Demetria snapped her fingers, and a parchment materialized out of thin air.
A little shadow of doubt crossed Marissa’s mind at that moment. The warning words of her mother echoed in her head. She pushed them away and focused her mind on Justin. She’d win him over with her heart and not her kiss. Her kiss would be gone, and she could leave this empty life behind. This is what she wanted.

Marissa
pricked a finger and signed the document in her own blood. Demetria followed. A shower of bright blue sparks exploded from the paper. It curled up on its own, and a black wax seal appeared. If someone cheated or broke the bet, the other party would win. It had been sealed. It was real. No backing out now. No changing her mind.

"The first touch of your lips agains
t any man's mouth, you lose. If you reveal anything about the bet, it’s over. You understand?" Demetria tucked the rolled and sealed parchment into her belt. "Your power will be mine, and the man you pursue will be lost to you."

Marissa touched her fingers to her lips. The power
remained with her for now. Clarity of mind returned, and it dawned on her how difficult this challenge would be. She'd always used her kiss as a way to seduce, a way to trick, a way to get what she wanted. Now she'd have to try something new. Although confident she could succeed, a small bit of doubt crept into her heart. She pushed all negative thoughts away.

"I hope you're ready to lose, Demetria." She thought of Justin and his dimpled smile. He'd always kept his distance from her, but she'd done the same. Time to rectify that little problem. She shouldn't have any trouble getting him to fall in love with her. She was Marissa, after all. Her beauty drew the men in first, before the kiss took hold.
This time would be no different. She'd turn on the charm, lay it on thick, and he'd be falling all over himself to get close to her. Wouldn't he?

Demetria's laughter cut into her thoughts. The witch hovered above the ground, and her body
spun. Faster and faster. She whirled so quickly, she became a blur of black and gray. A moment later, she disappeared completely.

For the first time in years, Marissa's heart felt lighter than air. Free. She'd tried a few times in her younger years to attract men without her magical kiss
to shake things up a bit. Back then she’d enjoyed finding out how far she could take it before she had to enchant them. She liked sex rough, hard even. Pain mixed with pleasure. Men wanted to be the ones in charge in the bedroom, she’d discovered early on. An aggressive woman could be a turn off. Targeting men who liked to be in control became a game for her. The only sad thing was, they never remembered it in the morning. How they'd begged for her to let them climax, or touch her, or lick her.

Now things would be different.
What it would be like to have Justin willingly fuck her brains out? What it would be like to have his hard, muscled body trembling for her? When morning came, he'd remember it all. Each moment of passion. Each touch. He would belong to her, completely and without magic. She fell asleep on her couch, her mind lost in a fantasy.

Chapter Three

Justin kept an eye on the growing crowd inside the pub. Since Santa Cruz was a college town, even Tuesday nights were party nights. Tonight, young men and women packed the bar to listen to a popular Celtic rock band. A hard, rhythmic drumbeat filled the room. Justin grimaced. He needed to buy some earplugs before this place made him deaf.

John, his fellow bouncer, jabbed him in the ribs. "Looks who's back. The Siren."

Justin caught sight of Marissa as she entered the pub. He and John hadn’t nicknamed her ‘the Siren’ for nothing. Like the Greek myth, Marissa lured men to their doom. She’d entice them into bed and leave them with no memory of what had happened.

Even with that knowledge, Justin
couldn’t stop staring. She wore a sexy silver halter dress that flowed loose around her long, beautiful legs and had a deep V, which showed off her cleavage. A star pendant hung between her breasts, drawing attention to the amount of flesh she had chosen to display that evening. Lots.

Goddamn that woman knew how to get every man's eye on her.

His dick jumped in his pants. His willpower was no match for his hormones.

She slinked up to him, her unfettered breasts bouncing enticingly. She'd painted her eyes with dark makeup, which emphasized their cool gray-green shade.

He expected her to greet him, ask him a friendly question or two, and then move on to the bar. There she’d pick out the lucky guy who got to see her out of the dress.

For a moment, he wi
shed he could see Marissa naked and those long, long legs spread for him.

He shook his head to get rid of the image. This was Marissa Glenn. The Siren.
A man-eater who loved them and left them like Jana, his faithless fiancée. She’d give a sexy smile, a reassurance he was the only man for her, and then move on to the next willing partner. He gritted his teeth at the memory of Jana’s betrayal.

Marissa
placed a hand on his arm. "How've you been, Justin?" She stood a hair too close. Her citrus perfume wafted toward him. Marissa gave him a slow smile, and her eyes burned green fire.

His gaze
met hers, and he cleared his throat. "Fine." He couldn't find any words when she looked at him like that.

"I thought I might hang out with you two for awhile, until the crowd dies down some. Is that okay?"
A table with a few stools stood next to them. No one ever wanted to sit this close to the entrance, so he and John kept bottles of water and a bowl of peanuts handy. She hopped up on a stool and crossed her lean, lovely legs. Her skirt rode up her thighs.

Justin snapped his gaze back
to the crowd. He wasn't going to fall for her game. He'd watched her enough times to know exactly what she was up to.

"Go for it," John said
to the Siren. "We could use the company."

Justin wanted to kill his co-worker. First, there’d been Sunday morning's weird cup of coffee, and now this. Marissa was up to something. But why? He thought they had an easy friendship going. She did her thing with the men at the pub. He stayed out of it. They shared a few jokes, a drink or two. All light, easy fun. The kind of relationship he could handle with a woman. Platonic. With distinct lines neither of them had ever tried to cross . . . until now.

If she wanted to play a game, he'd take it right to her. "So, which one's it going to be tonight? The black guy in the football jersey standing at the end of the bar, or Mr. Motorcycle Gang with all the tattoos over there?"

John raised his brows.

"Excuse me?" Marissa shifted in her seat. He thought she couldn't get any sexier, but he was wrong. The minute she got her dander up, she went a few steps higher on the hot ladder. Her eyes snapped, her curvy body tensed, her wide, pretty mouth screwed up in a pout.

"You heard me. Which one of those two guys are you going to pick tonight?" He smiled. "Come on, we've seen you in here three or four days a week for months. Always the same routine. Never the same guy twice."

She blushed. The sexy, gorgeous siren actually blushed. For one split second he thought maybe he'd misjudged her somehow.

"You've been watching me?"

"Hard to keep my eyes off someone as beautiful as you, sugar."

"Would you believe me if I told you all of those other men were just for practice?"

"Are you training for the Olympics? Because I've never seen an athlete more dedicated than you."

"Am I supposed to take that as a compliment or an insult?"

"Both." Now he felt comfortable again. She'd dialed down the overt sexuality she'd walked in with and had turned into Marissa again. Yes, she was still beautiful, but now he'd brought her back down to earth. She was just as vulnerable as he. "So, which one is it?"

She didn't even look toward the bar. She kept her gaze entirely focused on him. He shifted from one foot to the other. A bead of sweat slid into his collar.

"Neither. I've found the one I want tonight."

John gave a low whistle. "Think I'll go get us a couple more bottles of water."
The bouncer stepped between them and headed for the bar.

Justin watched John disappear into the crowd. "You're joking."

"I'm serious. You. Me. Tonight."

The band’s pounding drums grew louder and louder. The bartender flipped on the ceiling fans as the heat grew in the crowded room.

Justin couldn't think straight.

There was a popping noise. Then another. The crowd jumped. The loud conversations broke up into gasps and squeals.

One more pop, and the pub plunged into darkness.

A woman screamed.

Justin couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He reached for the flashlight he’d left on Marissa’s table. His hand touched something soft and warm. "Oh, sorry." He pulled his hand back.

T
he crowd rushed past them into the pitch-black night. The streetlights that normally illuminated the parking lot were out.

A hand clutched his.

Marissa.

He could smell her.
Her soft body pressed up against him.

Driven by purely masculine impulses, he pulled her against him and curved an arm around her waist, protecting her from the dozens of frightened pub patrons fleeing out the door.

The feel of her rounded backside up against his groin lit a fire inside him. A fire fueled solely by instinct and hormones. Any man would react the same way. He fought against it and willed his cock to stand down.

For a woman who’d seemed hell-bent on seducing him this evening, she was surprisingly quiet and meek in his arms.

"I can't see." Her voice was a squeak amidst the chaos surrounding them.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "It's okay. Most of them are outside now. A transformer must've blown or something. The lights are out on the street, too." Did it mean anything that he found her scent intoxicating? The orange blossom sweetness filled his nose. He wanted to lean in closer, tickle her neck with his lips, dip his hand inside her dress and . . . .

"Stay with me." Her hand clamped down on his.

Beneath the sil
ky fabric of her skimpy dress was a warm, live woman. If he moved his hand just to the left, he could touch her hipbone. Is this how she did it? Is this how she lured men to her? With her softness? With her delicious, sweet scent? Even blindfolded a man would know she was beautiful by those two things alone.

For a moment, he understood how they could fall for her. How they could want to bury themselves between her thighs. Get a taste of that sweetness. Know what it was like, even for one night, to have something that tender, that delicious, that lovely all to themselves.

The room settled into quietness. Everyone had made their way outside, including John, the bartender, and the manager.

The
dark was so complete no one had noticed the two of them, flush against the wall, holding each other.

He couldn't
let go.

The manager leaned into the open door
way. "Is anyone inside?"

Justin opened his mouth, but Marissa pressed her fingers to his mouth. A quiet entreaty for them to remain in the dark, empty bar just a little bit longer.

The lock clicked as the manager shut everything down for the night, locking them inside.