Witches of Three_Seraphina (7 page)

“I want to know all about you,” he prodded.

She tilted her head as if puzzled. “You’re a very strange Incu-man,” she said, and he thought she meant to draw back from him, but her hand turned and her fingers entwined with his.

“There’s nothing interesting to tell,” she began, shrugging. “I’m the youngest of three sisters. We’re all witches, but we try not to use our powers because our mother forbade it.”

He chuckled at her joke.

“What about your father? Did he forbid it?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t know how to deal with it, so he left when we were all very small.”

“The coward,” he joked, but she didn’t laugh.

“I guess he was,” she agreed.

“Have you seen him since?”

“No, he never came back. It made life very hard for mother, and we missed terribly not having a father like the other kids.”

He squeezed her hand. No wonder the poor kid dabbled in fantasy with the hurtful memories of her childhood. Maybe Mannie
was
her father. He was the kind of man to run out on his wife and kids. Maybe he’d come back to enlist their help in hiding out. Could he blame her for giving aid? To have a father you’d never known suddenly reappear and need your help would be a powerful reason to fall in with his scheme. Maybe she
was
innocent, and her sleaze-bag father was taking advantage of her?

She raised her head and met his gaze, an action that always knocked the wind out of him. Her smile was tremulous, barely there, yet her eyes were filled with such hope. He felt her need like a blow because it echoed his own.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said in an undertone.

She rose and followed without demure. He walked her to his car, opened the door until she was seated and belted in, then leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips were soft and sweet beneath his, yielding, yet giving.

“Want to go to your place?” he asked huskily. He couldn’t ask her back to the safe house with all their equipment set up. Besides, they were only tapping her phone, and that activated only when someone called in or out. And he sure as hell didn’t want Hurley to walk in on them.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied, her face bright with anticipation.

He broke every speed limit on the way back to her house and parked in the driveway because it was closest. Once inside, away from prying eyes, he backed her up against the door and ravished her mouth. They were both breathing hard when he let her go. Her hands went to his buttons, tugging them free, and with a sudden whoop of laughter, he gathered her up and carried her down the hall to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.

Laying her on the bed like a precious jewel, he began unbuttoning her modest top, fumbling in his haste. Her hands had opened his pants and tugged at his cock, which was suddenly too large and impatient to fit there anymore. She giggled at his clumsiness and brushed his hands aside.

“Take off your clothes,” she instructed.

He couldn’t remember any woman telling him to do that, besides his mom, who was usually waiting to throw them into the wash. There was nothing motherly in Sera’s gaze. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as keen as his. Her hands flew in, loosening her garments and shoving them aside. When she lay perfectly nude before him, and he couldn’t think of anything more perfect than a nude Sera, she held out her arms and he went to her.

His hands sculpted her form, his fingertips gliding over her satiny skin. His senses drew in the sight and fragrance of her body. Her mouth opened to him, and he plundered it, thinking he could never get enough. She was like nectar that drew him in deeper and deeper.

He laid her back on the bed and bent over her like a hungry man at a feast. Her eyes glowed as she looked at him. This time, she didn’t hurry to offer some exotic position. She simply waited for him, her expression one of anticipation. Her slim pale arms encircled his neck, her legs wrapped around him. Her breasts flattened beneath him, their centers burning with a fire that surely branded him.

He pulled back. He didn’t want to hurry. He didn’t want to go back to thinking of what she meant to his case. He only wanted to touch and taste and lose himself in every essence of her. He trailed kisses down her cheek to her throat, his lips gliding over warm, soft skin to her breasts. Her nipples were hard pebbles against his palm, and she arched to welcome his kiss when he took one into his mouth and rolled it between his teeth and tongue. She sighed and moaned, her arms going to the back of his head to hold him to her. He suckled and nipped and heard her breathy arousal.

Skimming his hands down her sides, he rose and kissed her flat belly, drawing in her scent until his mouth was poised over her crotch. She’d raised her knees, and she let them fall apart, leaving herself exposed to him. One glance up at her, showed her head turned to one side, eyes closed, her pouty lower lip caught between her teeth. Her fingers tangled in his hair, helping to guide him to her. Her inner arms pressed her breasts, making them plumper. He lowered his head and took his first taste of that most feminine of all places. She jerked and crooned with pleasure.

He raked his tongue across her sensitive clitoris, then back again until her stomach muscles tightened and her knees closed against the side of his head before opening again. He chuckled and replaced his tongue with his thumb, making light circles on her nub. Her heels dug into the mattress, and she arched. He lowered his head and traced her slit with his tongue until he found the depth of her then he thrust deep into her again and again while she writhed and moaned. One hand went to her buttocks and lifted her. She raised her knees into the air and spread them farther so he could get to her. She whimpered with desire, and he continued his motions until she came, pulling his hair and screaming against the climax that claimed her.

He waited patiently until her muscles began to relax again then he rose above her and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth so she could taste herself. She moaned with pleasure and sucked on his tongue. Pushing her legs high over his shoulders, he impaled her with his hard cock, driving himself into her. She was ready for him, still tight from her first climax and tightening around his rod even more as he rode her.

They came together this time, her screams ringing in his ears, her muscles gobbling his penis while he pumped as long as he could before the top of his cock exploded inside her and he shouted hoarsely, then lost sight of where he was and who he was.

They held onto each other for a long time, their muscles slowly unclenching, their breath returning, their heat radiating between them until it was as if they’d melted into each other and were one. She was limp when he moved away, letting her limbs fall against the bed like a rag doll.

“That was incredible,” she whispered. “I’ve never known anything like that before.”

She smiled at him dreamily, and suddenly he was overcome with jealousy. What other men had she had? How many? When? He wanted to find them and kill them all.

She seemed unaware of his rage. She lay quiet and spent, while he struggled to overcome his feelings. She was just a woman, he reminded himself, like any other.

Not like any other woman—better, much better.

He looked at the ceiling and sighed. God in heaven, what was he going to do about Sera Spencer?

Chapter Seven

“I want to go out,” Jack said like a petulant child.

Even his lips were pouting in such a delectable way she wanted to bite them gently, then give him a kiss that would make him take her back to bed. But that would lead to more sex, and he’d said he was tired of just sex in their relationship. How many men got tired of sex? None that she knew of, although she admitted her expertise was rather limited.

An Incubus ploy! She was getting wise to his ways. Smiling indulgently, because after all, she was way ahead of him, she put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. They’d been together for five days, and most of that time had been spent in her bedroom. Of course, they came out long enough to eat, and once in a while, he went off on some mysterious errand. Most of the time, they made love, slept and talked, in that order. He wanted to know everything about her, her mother and sisters, her missing father, even the old man, Owen Cutter. Patiently, she explained how the old man had come to live in her guesthouse. Thinking he, like her mother, was concerned for her welfare, she reassured him, Owen was a quiet, gentle man and that she liked having him around. Later, when she saw Jack go out to talk to him, she’d been pleased to see the two men seemed to get along.

Jack was a restless sort, she decided, and he’d grown tired of their cozy little arrangement. Since she was perfectly happy to stay as they were, she was disappointed that he wanted more. Now, at his words, she smiled gamely.

“Where would you like to go?” she asked and tried not to be hurt when his expression perked up.

“Anywhere. No, someplace with good food, doesn’t even have to be good, since I’m being fed by an expert chef. Someplace with at least passable food and a great band, so we can dance. You do dance, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for her response. “That means only one place. Sam’s Joint!” He bounded out of bed and started drawing on his clothes.

“Tonight at seven, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll have a date.”

“I don’t see what’s so important about having a date, but if that’s what you want, I’ll be ready.”

“Baby, we’ll have fun,” he said, sitting on the side of bed and giving her a quick, yet thorough kiss before putting on his shoes. “All we’ve done since I met you was stay here and fuck, and although there’s nothing wrong with that…” He paused and shook his head. “I must be crazy to even object.”

“I thought you liked that,” Sera said with a pout of her own.

“Don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I want to take you out and show you off. I want to talk and find out more things about you and meet your friends.” He turned and leered at her. “Then I want to come home and fuck your brains out.”

She laughed. “I’d like that too.”

“Good. See you at seven.” He leaned over the bed and kissed her then he was gone.

Like a happy little boy looking forward to some grand adventure. She sat thinking of what this all implied and decided he was getting tired of her! He found her boring! She bit her nails and considered. What if he left her and returned to wherever Incubi go when they’re not engaged with a human? She took a deep breath and decided. Okay, she’d make a big effort for tonight. She’d try to be more exciting for him.

She’d give up her quiet, normal look, what did Phil call it? Frumpy! She didn’t want Jack to find her frumpy. She tried to think what style he might like. She pored over the latest magazines, but they were too conservative, and she realized, in her quest to be normal, she had indeed become boring. Time for a change, a major change. She had to work fast and decide what to wear. Jack had said he’d be back at seven. That only gave her a few hours.

Surely, the stores downtown would have something suitable. Stop, don’t think that way—not suitable, knockout sexy. Something that made her so irresistible to him, he’d never even consider leaving the house but would carry her back to the bedroom and make love to her all night. So she had a goal, and she went about securing it in the only way she knew how, totally focused.

She scoured the stores until her feet ached and came up empty-handed. She’d seen some beautiful things, but nothing that was just right. She knew her indecision came from her lack of experience in shopping for knockout clothes. She thought of calling her sisters for help. They would happily rush to the rescue, bossing her around, taking charge, and when they were finished, she wouldn’t be herself anymore. She’d be copies of them.

She returned home in despair. Jack would be back to pick her up in an hour. What was she going to do? She had stopped at the bookstore and picked up some aggressively provocative couturier magazines. She dumped them on her bed and looked at the covers. One caught her eye, and she opened it to the pages of women on the town, their skinny boyish bodies clothed in smashing outfits, impossibly high, sandaled shoes and long shapely legs that Sera envied but knew she could never aspire to. She was too short and too curvy.

Idly, she thumbed through some more pages and came to a Latino model of regular proportions wearing an orange salsa dress. Sera perked up, remembering the time they’d tried to dress up Charlie when her hot boss had showed up unexpectedly. Phil had put Charlie in a hot little salsa number. That would work on Sera, except it should be red. She’d always wanted to wear red.

With a snap of her finger, she duplicated the dress in the magazine only in a gorgeous shade of red and was shocked and pleased with the way she looked. Strapless, its bodice was covered in shimmering sequins. The barely there skirt was gathered in several layers of tulle with sequins sprinkled like stars over it. And her short legs in the matching strappy heels made her legs look as if they were never going to end. Getting into the whole thing now, she brushed her hair until it gleamed then swirled it into a twist high on her head, leaving the ends standing out like bird plumage, then completed it with a satin beaded headpiece that curled around one side of her head. She applied makeup to her eyes, cheeks and lips and was amazed at the results. Her eyes looked deep and mysterious, her lips gleamed with a kiss-me sheen.

She was going to shock Jack’s eyes right out of his head, she decided, and practiced walking in the heels, striving for that predatory, hip-jutting stalk executed by some women. Ah, perfume, she snapped her finger and sprayed liberally the thousand dollars an ounce concoction that appeared in a Lalique bottle. She was really getting into this, she thought, and continued her stalking-walk, which came to a disastrous conclusion when she tripped and nearly fell before she caught herself. Okay, maybe there was a trick to walking in such high heels. Whatever it was, she didn’t know it. She’d just content herself with looking like a femme fatale and walking as carefully as she could, which meant stiffening her knees and bobbing along. Okay, when she walked, she looked like a gangster’s moll in a B-rated movie of old, but at least she could ambulate.