In the Company of Witches (13 page)

BOOK: In the Company of Witches
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Pleased with her decision, he slid an arm around her waist, molding his palm along the line of her hip. Then she put her arms around his neck, drew him to her. Bemused, he capitulated to the pressure, the distinct pleasure of her breasts against his face as she…hugged him.

He hadn’t been hugged since…Perhaps he’d never been hugged? That couldn’t be right. He was searching his brain for that scrap of information when she drew back, looked at him.

“So if you know the world sucks, why don’t you try to change anything?” she demanded.

It damn near made him smile, which he never did. She recovered fast from anger, didn’t sulk. At least not in this instance. She could likely do a damn good pout when it suited her purposes.

“Try to change the nature of living beings, their continual struggle between the good and evil in themselves? Try to impact the choices they make to reach the next level of spiritual evolution?” He shook his head. “That’s a higher pay grade than me. Sorry.”

H
E INTRIGUED HER, DAMN IT
. A
FFECTION WAS EASY FOR
her kind, and the moment had called for a hug, but the shock on his face…She guessed not a lot of people went around hugging Dark Guardians. He’d recovered, though. That hand on her hip was strong and steady, the idle stroke of his fingers awakening every nerve ending within range.

He was more than she’d expected him to be, but he’d picked up that there was more to her as well. It was an emotional aphrodisiac for any woman, a man’s genuine interest in her.

With the male attention span being what it was, the effect would wear off when the next pair of breasts bounced into his field of vision. Of course, the only breasts in his field of vision right now were hers, and they were big enough to take up the full screen. She could enjoy whatever this was, as long as it lasted. Life was short, after all. Well,
her
life was short, compared to his.

“What are you doing today?” When he drew his attention from those breasts, the amused suggestion in his eyes made her smile. “You’re not doing me right now,” she said decisively. “That’s still under negotiation. What’s your schedule today?”

“Something you want me to pencil in?”

“You’re avoiding the question.” She stroked her fingers along the column of his throat. Then trailed down the opening of the shirt, glad he’d buttoned only two buttons.

He closed his hand on hers, his eyes kindled to flame. “You keep doing that, I’ll close that negotiation.”

“What do you do when you’re not doing your job? Parasailing, Zumba…chess?”

“I do what I did last night. I can do that for a long time. Hours, even.”

Well, that certainly gave her toes a curl. He’d kept her hand and his between them, curved around one another. “If I had a clear schedule today, that would be more than tempting. But what I was thinking was—”

“It’s here, it’s here!” Gina rushed down the garden path, her thick red hair sparkling. “Raina, it came!”

“What came?” Raina rose from Mikhael’s knee, moving her hand to his shoulder, still stroking, following his collarbone beneath the shirt’s loose hold. What made it even more provocative was it wasn’t a deliberate tease. Mikhael could tell she was merely enjoying touching him, like any other visually stimulating thing in her garden. He was going to send Gina away, bend her mistress over that bench, and—

“The
box
,” Gina said, as if talking about the Ark of the Covenant. “The box, the box, the box.” As the girl chanted it, she caught Raina’s hand and pulled her away to spin with her, so wildly she lost her grip and bumped into Mikhael, falling onto his other knee. He steadied her, but Gina was off his leg in a flash, her eyes wide and pulse pounding, like a bird who’d narrowly escaped being caught by a cat. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“As far as I know, a woman sitting in a Guardian’s lap isn’t a capital offense in the Underworld,” Mikhael commented. “But I can double-check the codex.”

Gina’s eyes widened farther, her gaze darting to Raina. “You know,” the witch said dryly, “it would help if you smiled when you made a joke, Mikhael.”

“Oh.” Gina blinked; then a tentative smile crossed her face. “Wow. Okay. Raina, the box is here.”

“I gathered that.”

“The box?” Mikhael asked.

Raina drew Gina to her side and pressed a kiss to her temple, adding to the reassurance. The young woman giggled and wrapped her arms around Raina, squeezing her and giving Mikhael some very pleasant fantasies as she laid her red head on the witch’s ample bosom, brushing her cleavage with soft lips.

“Behave,” Raina murmured. “About every six months, we order new stuff. Toys, role-playing costumes, jewelry. Supplies.”

“It causes a lot of excitement,” he noted.

“Well, the staff gets to play with it first. That’s the rule. Their own little passion party.”

Mikhael lifted a brow. “It’s not even lunchtime.”

“People have been known to enjoy sex toys before lunchtime. People born in this century.”

When Gina tittered, Mikhael gave Raina a look that promised retribution. Like being pulled over his lap right then and there. She gave a little shiver that tightened her nipples more prominently against the satin of that robe. Fuck, he
was
going to take her right here.

Gina didn’t help in the slightest. “You like him,” she cooed, her hand caressing the full curve outside the satin, teasing across one taut peak. Raina tugged her hair, tsked at her.

“Stop that. Go on in now. We’ll come join you in a minute. What
is
this in your hair?”

As Gina straightened, she fluffed the red locks, sending out a cloud of sparkles. Raina put her hands on her hips. “We had a rule about glitter dust. No more. It takes forever to get out of the carpet, and clients don’t like taking it back into the real world on their hair and skin.”

“It wasn’t my fault; it was Ana’s. There was some in the top of the box, complimentary, and she sprinkled it on everyone, even Isaac.” Gina backpedaled up the path, giving a brilliant, unrepentant smile. “He looked so perplexed by it. Come in soon. This is going to be fun.”

“Shake that crap off before you go back in the house,” Raina called after her, a scowl on her face. “It smells like a cheap whorehouse, talcum powder and gardenias. I swear, I’m going to snatch Ana bald. No, I’m going to let the cleaning staff do it. I—”

She let out a startled yelp as Mikhael gripped her waist and pulled her back onto his lap. Only this time he spread her thighs with his large hands, draping her legs over his to hold them open that way. When he pulled the robe open, the sun reflected off the pale beauty of her naked body beneath. It might be the garden of a bordello, but it was still a decadent pleasure, revealing her here where anyone could see what he was doing. Cupping her breasts, he captured the distended nipples, making her suck in a breath.

“When I mentioned it wasn’t even lunchtime,” he said with exaggerated patience, “I meant that your staff has sex professionally all evening.”

Raina’s head dropped onto his shoulder, a throaty purr coming from her throat. “We live on the sexual energy of others,” she managed. “It’s like eating. As long as the stomach is empty, food will interest you, no matter the time of day.”

He caught her hand when it came toward his shoulder. Gripping that delicate wrist, he guided it back down, his fingers overlapping hers as he took her touch where he wanted it. “Stroke yourself, Raina. Put your fingers inside, then give them back to me. I want to suck your taste off them.”

That sexy little shudder again, which was gratifying on so many levels. He didn’t think many males made her react without thought, without calculation of their needs, their pleasure. He wanted her focused totally on her pleasure, on his command of her body to serve that end for both of them.

She moaned softly as her fingers entered, his own still loosely cupped over her knuckles, so that he was able to push her deeper, slow, easy. “Work your fingers in there. I’m going to spread you out on that dining table later today. Eat your pussy until you come.”

“I think I can pencil…that in. Oh, Goddess,” she breathed.

“Give them to me,” he demanded. She brought the fingers back up to his mouth, and he clasped her wrist, holding her manacled as he licked off that slippery arousal, savored it. When he met her gaze, the gold color had overtaken the green in her eyes, an exotic, feral animal. The heat of her magic pressed on his skin like a warm, wet tropical wave.

“Are you hungry again, Raina?” When his hand clasped her throat, holding her there, the needy plea that vibrated beneath his palm nearly undid him.

Her other hand came up, laid over his on her wrist, and she gave a sinuous little wiggle. In her position, she couldn’t get an optimal angle to rub herself against him, so he obligingly brought his legs back together. And in a quick move, she twisted under his hold and slid free, a flutter of satin and dark hair that caressed his face.

Scampering a few steps away, she turned back toward him, giving him a brief, glorious glimpse of her body, the aroused nipples, the cleft of her sex, all the pale curves, the lengths of her thighs. Glitter dust was on her breast where Gina had stroked her. He was used to having a strong libido, but she consumed his brain like fire on a dry leaf.

“Yes, I’m hungry.” She tossed her hair, retied the garment, but it was still loose enough the curves of her breasts were full crescents. “But I have a party to attend. Maybe later. After all, you were sufficiently adequate last night. I suppose I could invite you for another go.”

“Oh, really?”

She laughed, as girlish as Gina, and then gave a shriek as he surged off the bench. She ran back up the path, but she wasn’t as fast as the slip of a girl. He caught that womanly body up against the door, turned her to him.

When Raina looked up into his face, expecting the kiss, he slowed it down. Sidled even closer, until by drawing in her breath, she was drawing in his. She wasn’t aware of anyone in the room behind the door, or even the birds calling in the garden. Everything disappeared when Mikhael Roman got this close to a woman, filled all her senses.

“You don’t want to invite me to do anything, Raina. You want me to do what I want, whether you say yes or no. And I will.”

“We’ll see.” Reaching up, she traced his cheekbone, scraped him with her nail when he turned his head, nipped her wrist. “Do you play cards? That’s why I wanted to know about your schedule. Low-stakes poker.”

“I usually only play high stakes.”

“I’m so shocked to hear that.” When she gave him her professional smile, she wasn’t surprised to see his jaw tighten. He really didn’t like it when she used her practiced charm. Maybe that was why she liked doing it, to yank his chain. But she wasn’t going to let him get that upper hand back until her pulse was steadier.

“You have glitter dust on you, too.” She used her thumb to rub it off his chin, showed it to him. “I usually play solitaire in the afternoon. It helps me relax, get ready for the evening company, gives me the chance to go over the last- minute to-dos in my head. On Monday nights, though, we’re usually in pretty good shape. I can handle a more distracting game.”

He passed his fingers over his chin, ensuring all the dust was gone. She suppressed a smile as he put a few sparkles back on himself. They’d transferred to his hands when he touched her breast. That thought took her smile, gave her something more important to suppress.

“Unless our demon arrives and requires annihilation, I’ll make myself available for a few hands,” he said at last. “If you make it interesting for me.”

“I’m not known for boring male company.” She sniffed. “And when you annihilate that demon, stay out of my rose garden. I assume Lucifer doesn’t expense damages?”

“He usually has strings attached to any payment.”

“Don’t they all?” It made her abruptly sad, and she wasn’t sure where the feeling had come from. She was feeling too much around him. When she rotated toward the door, he touched her arm.

“Raina.”

She let him turn her back around. Those long, strong fingers stroked her throat as he put his mouth on hers, moist heat he turned into a lingering press of lips before he lifted his head, stared down at her. “Last warning. Stop retreating behind the courtesan routine.”

“I was a courtesan,” she said evenly. “Before that I was a straight-out whore. For a short time, I was a ten-buck-a-blow teenaged hooker who hung out in alleys, so messed up and hungry for sustenance I left a couple bodies behind. Now I’m a madam. I enjoy men; I enjoy sex. You have a problem with that, you can go fuck yourself. Literally.”

7

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