Bewitch Me - A Halloween Collection (2 page)

BOOK: Bewitch Me - A Halloween Collection
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“No! I’d rather be cold.”

Wes frowned.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

Jane tugged her skirt down and curled up as best she could as Wes made a sound of pure male frustration. He shrugged off his jacket and tucked it around her shoulders, his raised eyebrow daring her to protest. With a sniff of gratitude, Jane snuggled into the fabric, trying to ignore how it smelled of Wes and clean soap and linen.

Wes sat down across from her, leaning against another shelving unit.

“I would conjure up a deck of cards, but I’m afraid that might offend your delicate sensibilities.”

Jane scowled at him.

“You make fun, but is it so bad to just want my life to be somewhat normal?”

When normal is the one thing you can’t give me.

The thought was depressing. Life without Wes and Esme would be…bland.

“Normal gets old pretty fast.”

“I don’t think you’d know normal if it bit you in the ass,” scoffed Jane.

“You’re breaking Esme’s heart, you know,” said Wes quietly, and Jane felt lower than scum.

“I just need a little time to wrap my head around all of this,” she said.

“That’s what I told her. But call her, soon. She misses you.”

Jane nodded, feeling tears gather.

“Hey, no crying,” said Wes anxiously, and Jane couldn’t help a watery chuckle at his distress, dabbing her eyes on his jacket.

“I think once you get to know the other side of this town, you’ll find we’re really not all that different. Everybody loved the food, by the way.  I gave away all of your cards and at least three people suggested that you take over for the staff chef.”

Jane was shocked, and touched, but
hell no.

“That’s not a good idea.”’

“That’s what I said. I won’t get anything done if my girlfriend is working in the building.”

“Girlfriend!” spluttered Jane.

“Well, after a few more dates, of course.”

Jane scrambled to her feet, letting the jacket drop. Wes looked unconcerned.

“We’re not going on any more dates!” said Jane.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you, and I’m me.”

And because Wes was not just gorgeous, not just funny and smart, not just rich beyond reason, but now he had the equivalent of freaking
superpowers.
Jane just wanted someone on her level.

Which Wes was most certainly
not
.

Not in any way.

Suddenly, Jane couldn’t take it anymore. One more minute in the dark with Wes Proctor and, magical freak or no, she was going to jump him. He didn’t need a lust spell to get her hot, he managed it without trying with his wicked blue eyes, the confidence he wore like a second skin, and those hands she wanted all over her body. This was torture.

Jane jumped to her feet and reached for the door handle.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Wes, not moving a muscle.

“Oh, really?” sneered Jane.

“The magic has probably dissipated somewhat, so if you hold your breath, you might make it to the entrance, but at least check to make sure the coast is clear.”

Jane hesitated and then dragged a stool from the corner. Awkwardly, she hopped up on her knees to reach the small, round window.

And
froze.

 

WES FIGURED HE HAD nothing to lose by laying his cards on the table, and if he couldn’t woo Jane into accepting him, maybe needling her into honest conversation would do the trick. One thing was certain, she wasn’t walking out of this fridge. He grinned and joined her at the window. Her eyes were wide, shocked.

“That’s not even possible,” she breathed.

“Sure it is. He’s half-dragon. European. You can tell by the two cocks.”

Jane was holding her breath, clearly horrified and fascinated at the same time. Tendrils of fine brown had escaped the neat little coil at the back of her head, and teased the nape of her neck. Wes wanted to nuzzle them, and then trace his lips across the flushed rose of her cheek and coax her to open her mouth for his kiss. He considered her closely in the dim light, and the truth hit him like a fist in the gut. Wes had realized that romancing a mortal meant changing his sex life, but the hint of heat in Jane’s eyes was a thrilling surprise. His naughty little caterer was turned on.

“I never would have pegged you as someone who likes to watch,” he murmured.

“I don’t,” said Jane, but her eyes didn’t move from the various erotic tableaux outside, tilting her head for a better angle, “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“First thing a young Lycan male learns in having sex is how to use his fangs. See how gently he’s nibbling that pixie’s nipples? He doesn’t want to hurt her, just drive her a little crazy before he eats her out.”

“All of this…sex…is this normal for you guys?”

“Only around Halloween. The magical community is naturally less inhibited than the human world. If you’re unattached and horny, it’s just what you do.”

He shrugged.

“Is that what you do?” she asked, almost nonchalant, but Wes knew better.

“Once upon a time,” admitted Wes, “But I’m less interested in casual sex these days. See, there’s this mortal girl who’s got me walking around hard as a pike…I wish she’d give me a chance.”

Jane’s lips tightened, but she didn’t respond. Wes sighed and turned back toward the window.

“Looks like fun out there, doesn’t it?”

Jane unconsciously stroked fingers down her throat, absently undoing the top button of her shirt, and every muscle in Wes’ body tightened as his cock swelled to an instant, throbbing erection.

“You should see what’s going on in the main ballroom,” said Wes tightly, swallowing as he tried to control his sudden arousal from her simple little move, “but I’m glad you’re in here safe with me. It was difficult enough watching all those men staring at you while you served earlier tonight. It would look bad if I punched a client, even if he deserved it.”

Jane turned startled blue eyes to his.

“What are you talking about? Oh my God!”

It was at precisely that moment that Wes saw Jane realize that he was levitating off the ground to lounge by the window with her, at eye level. And she promptly lost her balance, falling backwards off the stool.

 

WHOMP. ONE MINUTE JANE was staring out at the writhing creatures engaging in crazy sexual acts she’d never even imagined, wondering why watching it was
so fucking hot
, and the next, she was tumbling through the air to
thump
against Wes’ body as he caught her and they crashed against a shelf. Potatoes and beets tumbled around them.  Breasts crushed to his awesome chest, a massive erection pressed enticingly into her stomach, and heat, heat, and
more heat
in his blue eyes, every inch of his muscled form alive and so delicious against hers.

Jane felt like she was drowning.

Wes leaned in, feathering his lips over her jaw, and tingles exploded down Jane’s spine. Her clit was one big ache.

“I’m the same man I was, Jane,” murmured Wes, “Nothing’s different.”

Jane pushed away, shaky.

“It’s all different.”

Shoving the stool back from the door, she resumed her spot on the floor, grabbing his jacket less for warmth and more to hide the fact that her nipples were straining her blouse, hungry for him.

“We had a nice date,” challenged Wes.

“It was just one date,” muttered Jane.

“But we’ve known each other for years. That’s almost like dating.”

“You were lying to me the entire time! I was engaged.”

“Which was a mistake.”

“I didn’t know that,” protested Jane, “and I never thought of you like
that.

“Ouch,” said Wes, grinning, “’Are you sure? Because I thought of you like
that
all the time.”

He resumed his spot across from her, his eyes hot and teasing even in the glow of the magical light ball. Funny, last week she would have tried to kill it as though it was some kind of deadly witchy firefly, but now she’d almost forgotten about it.

“I thought about our next date,” continued Wes, “and the date after that. And the one after that. And I thought about the date where you would eventually invite me up to your apartment.”

Jane’s heart was pounding, her mouth dry, as Wes’ voice dropped to a low, seductive rumble.

“You’d let me touch you while we made out on the couch for a while, and then you’d let me strip you so that I could kiss every inch of that body that I’ve been dreaming about – your neck, your beautiful breasts, those delicate fingers, and your sweet pussy. In my imagination, we’d stay up all night and I’d pleasure you in every possible way, on every surface of your apartment, until we were both exhausted.”

That wouldn’t take long,
thought Jane, irrationally. Her apartment was tiny. But the images bombarded her.

“And in the morning, we’d do it again.”

Jane couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped, startling in the quiet room.

“You want me,” said Wes, not in a smug way, but as a statement of fact, “as much as I want you.”

Jane shook her head, not sure if she was trying to deny him or herself. Apparently, her body didn’t care that they were from different species, but her mind was blocked. An image of That Cheating Bastard and his blonde chippie ate away at her self-confidence.

“We’re too different,” she said, desperate.

“Is it really just the magic?” asked Wes, “What do I have to do to convince you that you’ve got nothing to be scared of with me?”

Jane just stared at him, her mind blank, and suddenly Wes’ eyes lit up.

“I'll bet I can make you come from right here, no hands.”

Jane laughed, a little hysterical.

“Doubtful,” she said, “Unless you’re planning to drug me like your nympho gypsy friend.”

“She’s actually an excellent accountant,” replied Wes, grinning, “No drugs required. Have a little faith.”

Jane rolled her eyes, but her breath caught as a ghostly swirl of heat stroked up her thigh, setting off tingles along her skin. It felt like a warm, rough, finger.

“That’s not fair,” she gasped.

Wes chuckled.

“Who said anything about fair?

Another hot lick traced the curve of her neck and Jane arched involuntarily. Suddenly it didn’t feel quite so cold in here. It felt…intimate. Hot.

“Feel good?”

Wes’ voice was like warm chocolate over her senses, low and seductive.

“You are such a bastard,” muttered Jane without heat, and she couldn’t help straining into the touch as a warm, invisible hand cupped her breast with a sure touch, stroking her nipple with firm, delicious pressure.

“God, you’re stunning. You should see yourself, Jane,” murmured Wes. “Your cheeks are all flushed, your nipples are so hard I can see them through that shirt. Bet they’re the sweetest dusky rose.”

Jane hoped Wes didn’t expect her to respond, because words were beyond her. She should tell him to stop. Magic slithered up her leg, under her skirt, teasing the crease between thigh and pussy, and Jane groaned, automatically spreading her legs a little wider, uncaring when the move pulled her tight skirt up her thighs.

Wes huffed out a rough breath.

“Just another inch,” he begged softly, “Pull your skirt up another inch and show me that sweet, wet pussy.”

Jane ignored the plea, too overwhelmed by the sensation coursing through her body to listen.

The magical fingers were diabolical and everywhere now, pinching her nipples, stroking her neck, and moving effortlessly through the fabric of her panties to slide into her soaked folds, filling her perfectly, thick and hard.

A wild thought occurred to her and Jane forced her eyes open.

“Can you feel it? Feel me?”

She was panting, the fingers relentless, fucking and stroking exactly as she imagined Wes’ hands would. And he was watching, lounging against the shelves, his eyes hot as he absorbed every nuance of her response.

“No, baby, not the way you think. Just echoes.”

Dizzy with pleasure, Jane’s eyes dropped to the bulge in Wes’ pants, huge and unapologetic and so tempting that she licked her lips. Wes swore, long and low.

Jane was rolling her hips now, her hands flying up to hold onto the shelf above her head, her legs slightly splayed as the magical fingers fucked her. And then she felt something new – a warm, wet lick to the tight bud of her clit, followed by firm lips and a hot mouth drawing her in to suck.

“I can’t –”

“Yes, you can,” Wes assured her. “Come for me, Jane.”

Jane watched, stretched helplessly on the rack of pleasure, as Wes pressed his palm against his cock, his eyes drinking her in as she writhed. Higher and higher, tension gripped her, and she struggled to get there. She cried out as another finger slipped down through her folds to find the tight rosette of her anus. It didn’t enter, but teased in light, circular strokes.”

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