The Cupcake Coven (11 page)

Finally, Rebecca broke the kiss and said, “Oh my.” They grinned at each other for a moment, then she murmured, “Hanna.”

Confused, Dru asked. “What about her? And, hey…weren’t the lights on a minute ago?”

Rebecca chuckled. “She was here. I guess she decided we needed some privacy. Looks like she shut off the lights and flipped the closed sign over a little early.”

Dru glanced at the front door. Sure enough, the place looked closed. “How did she leave without settin’ off the bells?”

Rebecca shrugged. “Maybe we were just so into each other, we never heard them.”

Dru leaned over and rubbed her nose with his. “Well, what should we do with all this new found privacy?”

“I have an idea. Let me just make sure the door is locked first.”

She strode to the door and turned the dead bolt. “There. Now we won’t be disturbed.” Taking his hand, she led him to the back of the kitchen and opened a door, which led to some stairs. “Want to come up to my place?”

“I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

She led the way. At the top of the stairs, she reached over the door frame and retrieved an old key. After unlocking and opening the door, she stood aside, waiting for him to enter first.

“Age before beauty, I guess,” he said as he stepped over the threshold.

“In that case, maybe I should have gone first.” She followed him in and shut the door behind them. “How old are you anyway? I never asked.”

“Twenty-six, going on a hundred after what you and my sister have put me through.”

“Me? What did I do?”

He pulled her into his arms again. “You bewitched me—then tossed me out on my ear.” Without waiting for a rebuttal, he angled his head and kissed her again for all he was worth. She tangled her fingers in his hair and responded in kind.

He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and find her bedroom.
Is it too soon? Why would she invite me to her place if she wasn’t looking for a comfy place to sit or lie down?

He broke away and glanced around. They seem to have entered her own personal kitchen, which was clean and tidy, but definitely from another decade. He figured the living room was probably at the front of the house.

He lifted her easily, and she squealed. Probably just not expecting it, because she giggled when he strode though the dining room, which brought them to the front of the house. As expected, it was a living room with a comfortable looking couch.

He set her down on it and sat right next to her.

“I thought you’d be looking for my bedroom.”

“Is that where you want to go?” he asked, hopefully

Rebecca glanced at him shyly. “Might as well give you the full tour.” She rose and held out her hand to him. “There are two bedrooms and a full bath off the third floor.”

He sprang to his feet and clasped her outstretched hand.

She led him to a narrow staircase off the dining room and up they went. At the top of the stairs, an open door revealed a modern bathroom and on either side were closed doors. Rebecca opened the one on the right and revealed her inner girly girl. A four-poster bed covered by a flowered comforter, white shutters on the bottom half of the windows with white ruffled curtains on the top half. A wooden dresser with gold trim and mirrored side tables. Some kind of desk with a mirror over it, and the mirror was laden with necklaces and a fake lei—maybe a souvenir from Hawaii. A dish on the desk top held bracelets and rings. If she had a laptop computer, it was stowed in a drawer.

“Well, butter my buns and call me a biscuit. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a ruffles and flowers woman.”

She smirked. “I have layers.”

“Apparently. Now, let’s get you out of them,” he said, hardly recognizing his low, raspy voice. He strolled behind her and pulled open the bow, making her apron easy to remove over her head. Then he slid down the zipper of her long bohemian skirt. It pooled at her feet and she stepped over it.

He whipped the Dallas Cowboys t-shirt he was wearing over his head and tossed it on the floor. She unzipped his jeans as he unbuttoned her white blouse. They struggled out of the remainder of their clothing and stood together, skin to skin.

He kissed her tenderly at first, but the heat grew and passion exploded within him. He made love to her mouth, then nipped at her earlobe.

She cupped the back of his head to pull him back to her hungry lips.

He ran one hand over her hair, down her back and squeezed her ass. His other hand found her breast and hefted it, feeling its weight. His thumb caressed her nipple and she groaned.

“I want you,” she whispered.

He kissed her and walked her backward to the bed simultaneously. They fell on it and then fell on each other, hungrily groping and devouring with hands, lips and tongues. He forgot everything for a few minutes. Forgot his missing sister, forgot Rebecca’s father, forgot his job at the ranch. The only thing that mattered was giving and receiving pleasure.

And then he was there, at the juncture of her thighs. Rebecca arched her hips as if begging him to continue. He had no intention of disappointing her.

“Spread your legs,” he growled.

She did immediately. He kneeled between them and scooped her up under her buttocks. Then he licked a path from her upper thigh to the ridges which led to her most sensitive spot. He parted her damp curls with his tongue and continued the path upward to her clit as she clutched the sheets, arched and moaned.

He flicked his tongue, his mission to give Rebecca as much pleasure as possible. Her strangled sounds grew to a deafening crescendo. As she screamed her release her head thrashed back and forth. Meanwhile, her thighs vibrated, wildly.

At long last, she quieted. Panting, she pushed his head away. “Good Goddess,” she mumbled.

“I take it that was all right for you?”

She laughed and panted. Panted and laughed. “Understatement of the year…”

He grinned. “Ready for more?”

“It’s your turn. I’m made of jelly right now, so you can do with me whatever you want.”

“Do you need to rest?”

“Not unless you want to use a trapeze or something. Otherwise, I’m good to go.”

He tested her wetness and found her plenty ready for him. Usually, he’d spend more time learning all her subtle erogenous zones, but that could wait until next time. Right now need was taking over.

“Rebecca,” he whispered.

“I’m on the pill.”

He hadn’t even been thinking about the possibility of pregnancy, or the rest of it. He didn’t know what he had intended to say, other than reverently saying her name.

“Please,” she murmured. “Please, I need you.”

He guided himself to her opening and entered her steadily until he was fully seated. The first moves were slow and steady—an introduction of two bodies learning to move together in their own rhythm. She raised her knees and thrust her pelvis against him. It enticed him back into the temporary madness which had gripped them earlier.

“Dear God,” he mumbled against her lips. They smiled at each other briefly and then he began his series of thrusts in earnest as they stared into each other’s eyes.

He felt her grab his ass and maneuver her body to increase her point of contact. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as she moaned her pleasure.

Dru was pumping faster now, his body stroking her sweet spot each time they moved together. Her fingertips dug into his ass cheeks, but he barely felt it. A stronger sensation was taking over. She cried out his name as her orgasm hit. Her vaginal walls squeezed his cock in spasms. He followed her right over that cliff into a climax that never seemed to end.

They finally stilled.

“Oh, my Goddess,” she murmured between heavy breaths.

He was panting too. He kissed her forehead, her cheek and her ear, then he rolled to the side and wrapped his arms around her.

The stayed that way, basking in the afterglow.

April took her meals at the shelter, having no money to eat anywhere else. She noticed a handsome new face in the dining room. The young man appeared to be sitting by himself. Most of the others were outside at the picnic tables.

She went through the cafeteria line and carried her tray over to his table. “Can I sit with you?” she asked.

“Sure. Please do.”

She settled on the seat next to him and stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m April.”

“Oh. I’m John…I guess.”

“You guess?”

He smiled sadly. “Yeah. I’m not sure what my name is. I fell off a bridge and by the time I was dragged out of the water I was half downed. I don’t remember anything about it. I just woke up in the hospital where a nurse told me what happened. They’ve been calling me John Doe ever since.”

Her eyes widened. “You have amnesia?”

“Yeah.”

“And you had no ID on you?”

“I guess not. Nobody seems to know who I am—including me.”

April squealed in delight. “We’re amnesia buddies!”

He stared at her with a combination of wonder and amusement. “You don’t know who you are either?”

“Nope. I came here in April, so that’s what they’re calling me. April.”

“Cool. I guess I’m lucky they didn’t call me July.”

“You could be Julian.”

“I could be. Or I could be Tom, Dick, or Harry. I have no clue.”

She giggled. “You’ll get used to John.”

“I hope not.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. At first I kept hoping my memory would come back or that someone would find me.” She looked down at her lap. “Either nobody misses me or…”

“Hey. I’m sure someone’s missing you badly. You’re a beautiful girl. How old are you?”

He thinks I’m beautiful?
She felt her face heat. She thought he was gorgeous. His dark hair was a startling contrast to his sapphire blue eyes. “I don’t know. I could be eighteen or twenty-five. The only thing I remember is being on a bus.”

“You didn’t hit your head on anything?”

“Nope. Not that I remember. Of course, I might not remember even if I had, but the doctor they sent me to said I didn’t have anything physically wrong with me.”

“And you haven’t recovered you memory in three months?”

Again, she looked down sadly. “I guess I have a special kind of amnesia called a Fugue.”

“And you don’t know who the fugue you are, huh?”

She chuckled. She didn’t know what to say to that beyond a ‘Yup,’ so she began eating her lunch.

He finished his sandwich a few minutes later but didn’t leave. “So what do you do around here all day?”

She shrugged. “Whatever I can find to do. Some of the residents smoke, so they hang outside at the picnic table and do that. We get a newspaper delivered each day. Then there are chores. We have a board with our names on it that says who’s helpin’ with what each day.”

“I saw that. How can they put our names on it if they don’t know what our names are?”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll see John D up there soon, I’m sure.”

“So what do you do when you’re not reading the paper or doing chores? That can’t take up much of your time. Not with so many people pitching in.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I take walks along busy roads and hope someone will see me who knows who I am. I wish I could get a job though. Then I could get to phase two and have a private room.”

“Why can’t you?”

“No ID. If you find a job where someone will hire you illegally, please let me know. So far I’ve had no luck. That dumb doctor wants me to go to daycare, but I refused.”

“What dumb doctor?”

“Dr. Frampton. He comes over from the mental health center a lot. He’ll probably want to see you too.”

“Why?”

“To figure out if you’re faking your amnesia.”

John laughed. “Faking it? Why would I?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe if someone is trying to hide out they could throw away their ID and claim they don’t know who they are. I mean, you fell off a bridge, so your condition is probably more believable. Me? I just showed up all confused and hungry.”

“Geez. That’s rough. Do you think your memory will ever come back?”

“I hope so. I’ve had a couple experiences that seemed familiar.”

“Like what?”

“A song somebody was whistling. I could have sworn I’d heard that song before.”