Enchant Me (6 page)

“Alexis,” it was almost a command. He gently
but firmly lifted my head up to meet his eyes. “You are mine now, I
am not going to let anything happen to you.” He didn’t say it
softly and his eyes as they looked in mine were fierce, but this
reassured me probably better than anything else could.

I slowly loosened the death grip I had had
around his waist and enjoyed the feeling of his weight pressing
into me, one of his thighs between mine.

“What about the other rumor?” I could tell I
had caught him off guard by changing the subject but he went along
with it. 

His mouth turned wry. “Devil worship?” he
muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“I don’t, you know,” I assured him. 

He gave me a look like I should have known
better. “I didn’t think you did. It should be obvious to anyone
with a brain in their head that he was trying to slander you.”

“True,” I agreed. 

He reluctantly lifted off of me and pulled us
both up to sitting positions just as a couple walked by. The woman
kind of giggled as she noticed us. I felt like my enchantment was
probably written all over my face.

 “So what do you worship?” he mused,
gazing up from under his lashes. 

What could I say? It was kind of a touchy
subject. Most people didn’t understand. That was why I never
bothered countering the rumors. The average person knew so little
about Druids or any of the pagan beliefs. Pagans didn’t even
believe in the devil which would make it kind of hard for them to
worship him. But if Christian was going to have a problem with my
family’s spiritual beliefs I would rather know now than
later. 

I looked at him almost challengingly. “A sort
of Druidism.” 

His brows lifted. “Really?” he started to
smile mischievously. “I could see you as a nature worshipper,
dancing around a fire, flowers in your hair.”

I laughed at his romanticized vision, and
then realized he wasn’t far from the truth. “So you aren’t freaked
out or anything?”

He reached over and took my hands in his.
“No, I’m half Irish myself. Before my mom’s parents died they used
to tell me all the folk tales and myths of ancient
Ireland. “Me too, except it’s my father’s side of the family.”
I felt hope winding through me. He really didn’t have a problem
with it. “Do you believe?”

While he rubbed my hands with his, trying to
warm them up, he seemed to be considering his answer. “Well…both my
parents were actually Catholics. My grandparents that I live with
were born and bred Italian Catholics. So I have heard both sides. I
guess I still haven’t really decided yet.”

I nodded; he was in a difficult spot. Luckily
for me, my mom didn’t really practice any particular religion so
she was pretty open, and my dad, while growing up around Druidism,
had chosen not to practice it. “Did your mom’s parents live in
Ireland?”

“No, they had lived in California.”

“Oh.” I had a thought. “Would you like to go
for a ride on my bike?”

I was definitely rewarded for that. A huge
boyish smile crossed his face. 

“Yeah, where can we go to really ride
it?” 

“My grandmother has a couple of acres in
Graham. She won’t even know we’re there. There is a back road onto
her property.”

“Sounds good, I’ll just run this stuff up to
my house and get my helmet.”

“You have a bike?” I asked excitedly as I
helped him shake out and fold the blanket.

“I did when I was in California but I sold it
before I came here,” there was a touch of sadness in his
voice. 

“Have you thought about getting another
one?”

He smiled at my eagerness. “Maybe I
will.”

Hand in hand we walked up to the parking lot.
I felt that same stupid grin, threatening to explode again. I
avoided meeting his gaze as we walked to my bike; I was sure I was
on the verge of giggling like a 12 year old with her first crush,
any minute. 

“I will meet you back down here in a
minute.”

“How close do you live?”

“Do you know the big, two-story, white house
up the street?”

“That’s yours? I have walked by that a ton of
times.”

He smiled and shrugged. “See you in a
minute.”

In definite admiration I watched as he
quickly ran up the couple hundred feet to his house. I couldn’t
believe I had never seen him before. My house wasn’t that far from
here. Well, better late than never. I threw on a scarf and gloves,
glad that I had brought them with me. It was going to be pretty
cold driving down the interstate. I smiled to myself looking
forward to sitting behind him, my arms wrapped tight around him.
Since patience wasn’t a quality I had in great supply. I put on my
helmet and rode up to meet him. He was already standing
outside, his thumb out as he saw me ride up. I couldn’t stop
smiling. No man should look that good. In a black leather jacket
and boots he looked--dangerous.

I flipped my visor up. “Mmm-hmm…I don’t
usually pick up strangers, but for you I think I can make an
exception.”

I got off my bike and waited for him to swing
on in front. 

He put his helmet on. “You drive.”

That surprised the heck out of me. Almost
every boy I knew would just about die to drive my bike. “Alright,”
I shrugged. “But it’s not going to be very comfortable and you
better hold on real tight.” 

“Don’t worry, that was part of the plan.”

When he sat down behind me in the tiny space
that was available, he slipped his hands underneath my jacket and
slightly under my sweater so he was touching my bare skin. His
fingers splayed out as he slowly moved them from my back to my
stomach until they crossed over each other and then he pulled us
together-- tight. I shuddered a little with the desire that never
seemed to be that far away when I was with him. I should’ve
been freezing as we drove through the night, but with his warm body
pressed tightly from our thighs up, I felt downright toasty.

Once on the interstate, I kept an eye out for
cops. I wanted to give him a little taste of what my bike could do
so I edged close to eighty five mph, just to make him
happy. The full moon just broke through the clouds as we rode
onto my grandmother’s property. Sure that he would need a break
from sitting, I rode to my grandmother’s fire pit and parked.

Once we were both off the bike with helmets
off, I watched as he walked around the small clearing, noticing the
large oak trees that formed a circle around it. Twelve boulders had
been roughly shaped into seats around the perimeter of the pit, and
the eerily pale night blooming flowers filled the small clearing
with their sweet scent. It was a magical place. He seemed to think
so too. I followed his gaze as he looked up into the sky. It was
like the tree tops were framing the stars. It was beautiful but it
couldn’t hold a candle to Christian. 

A little thrill ran through me as he walked
over to me in the dappled moonlight. It was not enough to
illuminate his face. With his dark hair and eyes, he was more
darkness and shadow than anything else and I found myself taking an
unintended step back, as he came to stand in front of me. My heart
was beating so fast I was sure he could hear it. 

He framed my face with his hands. “Are you
afraid of me?” he murmured, his voice lower and huskier than usual.
Unable to stop it, a ripple of awareness coursed through my
body.

“I would never hurt you,” he whispered, and
then he leaned down and slowly brushed his heated lips across
mine. 

At the touch of his lips-- I felt a jolt of
electricity. It was so startling that I opened my eyes and started
to pull away. Only to be stopped by his arm that had moved down to
my waist and pinned me to him. More powerful than that was the look
on his face; desire, devotion and a need so deep that it was almost
painful. All the same things that I felt, and I melted back into
his arms, burning that memory of his face in my mind
forever. That feeling of time standing still washed over me.
All I knew was the feel of his hot muscled body pressed against
mine, his hands spread against my back, the feel of his lips
alternating between soft sweet kisses to hard demanding ones. I
didn’t know how long we stood there locked in each other’s arms,
but it wasn’t nearly long enough.

When he finally pulled away, I felt
weightless with no connection to the world, no purpose other than
being in his arms. I forced myself to step away, take a deep breath
and slowly exhale as I regained my senses. I was glad for the
darkness; I didn’t want him to see the shock on my face. What the
heck was this?

He held out his hand to me and led me back to
my bike. “We better get you back home.”

While he couldn’t see me, I shook my
head--hard. If I had thought I had been enthralled before, it was
nothing to what I was feeling now.

For the ride back, I decided to let him
drive. He was competent; I knew I could trust him. Feeling a little
wicked; I took my leather gloves off, since they hadn’t been
helping anyway, and slipped my cold hands underneath his coat and
shirt. He actually jerked under my touch and I couldn’t stop the
giggle from escaping. He already had his helmet on so he only
jerked his head in my direction but I could feel the rumble of a
laugh in his chest. Or maybe it was shivering. Just like he had
done to me, I slowly spread my fingers on his hard muscled back and
slowly caressed my way to his glorious toned stomach. He
flipped his visor up. “Lex,” he growled. Repentant, I quickly
wrapped my arms completely around him and held tight. I laid my
head against his back; this had been the most perfect night of my
life. When we got back to his house he slid off my bike, and
took off his helmet and I took off mine, hoping…

The look on his face was concerned. “I don’t
feel good about you riding back home in the dark.”

I didn’t want to offend him but I had to
laugh at this. “I am about two blocks from here and we live in
Steilacoom.” Need I say more? 

His lips quirked, “Right,” he agreed.

He enfolded me in his arms again and brushed
a soft quick kiss against my lips before he stepped away. Avoiding
temptation I guess. “I will see you Monday at school?”

Putting my helmet back on but leaving the
visor up, I glanced at him.

“Maybe,” I teased, and then drove off.

It was never good to leave a man too sure of
you. When I stumbled out of bed the next morning-- mornings
not being my forte, I was surprised to see my mom was already gone.
We hadn’t seen each other in days. I wondered if she had hooked up
with that singer. After microwaving some oatmeal and sitting
down at our morning room table, I sighed with pleasure, looking out
at our view of the Puget Sound. I felt truly blessed to live in
this house. With inheritance money from a distant aunt, mom had
been able to buy the adorable yellow cottage with white trim that
had partial Puget Sound views. The only down side was the trains
that went by, but you got used to that. Staring out at the
water, memories of last night started to dance through my head. I
mentally shook myself, I needed to concentrate today. I had
homework--lots of it. There was also a belly dance routine for a
performance next Saturday that I needed to work on. Heading to
my room, I was startled when the front door burst open and my mom
struggled inside with numerous bags and boxes in her hands. She
wearily laid them down in the living room and then went back and
closed the door. 

“Hi, dear,” she gasped,
exhaustedly. 

“Hi mom, what’s up?”

Dressed in sweats, her long ash brown hair in
a ponytail, she looked like she was about to go to the gym. She
collapsed on our overstuffed couch. “Your grandmother got something
for you, with my permission of course, and asked me to bring it
over.”

Just then I heard a little mew from one of
the boxes. Surprised but pleased I crouched down at the box. A
little, fuzzy, gray head was peering through the slots at me with
big, round gold eyes. I quickly opened the box and lifted it
out. 

“It’s a boy. I got all the stuff he needs at
Target this morning.”

Ah… That’s why she was acting so tired. She
never had been much of a morning person. I lifted him up in the air
to get a better look at him. He mewed at me in protest.

“You got me a British Shorthair?”

“Your grandmother did. Considering what you
had been through… By the way the breeder said they like all four
paws on the ground.”

“So I’ve read, but he’s just so cute,” I said
and squeezed him against my chest.

I had wanted a cat for years. I had always
planned on getting a British Shorthair some day, probably when I
moved out. 

“Your grandmother thought there was something
special about him,” she mused.

I lifted him up again to be able to get a
good look at his golden eyes which earned me another mew in
protest, this one louder than before, and I silently agreed. I
could swear I saw his perfect little soul in his eyes, a soul with
a story. Then it hit me. My grandmother had gotten me a
familiar. I decided I didn’t care. I was madly in love with
him. He was perfect. The teddy bear of the cat world; everything
was round, his sweet little face, his paws, his gorgeous gold eyes,
and his fur was so soft and plush. He was special. 

I rubbed my face against his. “Thanks
mom.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, getting up. “Make
sure you call your grandmother to thank her. I believe he was
pretty expensive” 

Setting him down on the floor, I laid down
next to him and watched as he sniffed around. “I will. I think I
will call him Cody.”

“You’re giving him a human name?” she asked
as she drifted into the kitchen.

“Why? You think I should call him Fluffy or
Spot?” I asked, laughing.

“No, but how about Stormy?”

I rolled my eyes, I could see where she got
the inspiration, but no. I always thought one day when I had a son
I would call him Cody. Well, now I had a cat son. At least I didn’t
have to worry about puberty. “Sorry. But no.”