Werecats and Werelocks (Collection) (23 page)

She cornered him in the kitchen with a finger under his nose. “Would you quit eyeballing the beauty queen and help me, please?"

"What am I supposed to do? You conjured her up. I was just praising your efforts, my beloved mate in connubial bliss. That's called supp-or-tive,
wife
."

"Yeah, I see that, you sucker for some eye candy. Now, help me! This isn't funny anymore."

"Scuse me.” The brunette poked her head around the corner of the kitchen. “You have guests.” She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb.

"F? Who the hell is
this
?” Lila chirped, obviously referring to Ms. Bodacious Curves. Lila was firmly planted on Dex's shoulder. Today, her lovely shade of pink was especially flattering. “Oh! It's true, you doooo have a man! It's all over Castoffsphere, F. Everyone is talking about it and we came to see if it was true. So introduce us to your new squeeze."

Christian stepped forward, offering Lila a finger. “I'm Christian. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lila clutched it, bringing it to her tiny breast. “Wow, wow, woooooow. You're hot, huh? Where'd you come from? Judging from your pants, I'd say you're in the ‘I can only dream of being Jeannie’ group. Am I right?"

Chuckling, Christian bowed. “Sort of. You are?"

"Lila. I'm Lila and this,” she pointed to Dex's face, “is Dex."

"Pleasure,” Dex said as he offered his hand too.

Felicity stepped into the middle of the love-fest and said, “Enough with the pleasantries, huh, guys? Do you see what's in my damn living room? A supermodel, thank you. I have a real problem here. Thoughts on what comes next?"

"Yeah, you do, don'tcha? Explain the broad, would ya, F?” Lila twittered, her wings fluttering with color.

"Or, don't, F,” Dex chimed in. “I think she should stay. She's pretty hot."

Only Felicity could create not just any woman, but one that would have all the men around her salivating.

The brunette called from around the corner, “I can't stay. I have—"

Felicity held up a hand. “I know. You have a hair appointment. I'm doing the best I can, okay?"

Christian blew out a breath of air, looking at Dex as he did. “I think the hot chick has to go, bud.” He stared back out into the living room as the brunette stretched her legs.

Was that lust she saw in his eyes? Whose husband was genie man anyway?

Humph.

Oh, yes, Ms. Tall and Supple definitely had to go and go fast, before Felicity took a butter knife to her big, round, thickly fringed eyes. Or before she lost the husband she didn't know she had and thought she didn't want.

This was lame. She didn't want a husband, even if he did help her to cast a spell properly with his dulcet tones and rippling biceps. Even if he was as patient as Job and Africa hot.

Lest ye forget his bulging thighs and sexy, smooth head...

Shaddup
, Felicity warned her X chromosomes.

So Christian was cute. Well, honesty made her confess to herself that he was just a bit beyond cute. And he
was
helping her. Why should she care if he lusted for another chick? He had every right to lust. Lust away, magic man ... that was fine by her.

Felicity shrugged off the niggle of jealousy that skittered up her spine.

She didn't care. Felicity took one more look at Christian who was laughing and chatting with Dex as they nudged each other the way men do when a beautiful woman was present.

Stupidheads.

Damn, finding that book of spells in the rubble that was once her armchair was suddenly a compelling task indeed.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Felicity closed the door with a huff on Lila and Dex, turning to narrow her gaze in the direction of Christian who sat cross-legged on the couch. Lila and Dex thought he was peachy and Christian was gloating over it.

"Sorry I had to get rid of the hot chick. She did have an uber important hair appointment and all."

His chuckle bounced off the small cottage walls. “It's okay. She had too much hair anyway."

Yeah, too much was definitely a phrase that might be attributed to tall and luscious.

"Ya jealous, F?"

A snort escaped her lips. “Of what? Her legs up to her eyeballs? That dark curtain of hair that tumbles just so, yet somehow still needs to be more perfect via Jamal's hands? Wait, maybe it was her teeny, tiny waist or her supermodel height? Her dark, seductive eyes? Nah, jealous isn't in my vocabulary."

Christian cocked an eyebrow. “You know, wife, if I wasn't the cynic I am, I'd definitely say you were jealous. But fret not. I like short redheads better anyway."

Felicity clucked her tongue at him and opted to ignore his comment. “It's been a long day. I think we need to sleep on this spell thing and try again tomorrow. I don't know if I can handle conjuring up another runway model."

"But you did conjure up
something
. That's nothing to balk at."

Felicity grinned and her heart warmed at Christian's obvious support. “I did, didn't I?” She couldn't help the joy that bubbled up inside her. Too bad that wasn't outweighing the fact that she was just a little tweaked he'd been leering at what she'd conjured up. Like the supermodel.

"You did.” He smiled and rose, holding out his hand to her. It was lean and long fingered and Felicity felt an unmistakable desire to reach out and grab it. “How about we celebrate?"

Oh, no. No celebrating. She had a funny feeling that might involve sex and there was no way she was having sex with the stud genie. He was too—too—well, he was just too everything and he distracted her with his bare chest and sculpted pecs. His warm scent of vanilla and musky male. He was as addictive as coffee and tequila. She could not afford to stray from her path for a little some-some. If she didn't focus on her mission to get a broom, she'd be without a place in the coven.

No
.

"C'mon, F. I have a surprise for you.” He stretched his hand out a little further. It made his stupid, well defined, rigid, lickable abs ripple.

Felicity weakened as she shuffled her feet. “What kind of a surprise? I don't like your kind of surprises, mister. They involve wedded bliss I didn't even know I was in. Is your mother coming to visit? Wouldn't that be special? Maybe I can whip up a casserole or something?"

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to his solid chest. “Well, punkin', seeing as Mother hasn't made a visit in five hundred years or so, I don't think you have to worry. My surprise has nothing to do with anything but helping you to relax after a hard day of witching."

"You haven't seen your mother in five hundred years? How old are you anyway?"

Kissing the tip of her nose, he winked at her. “Old.
Really
old. Ancient even."

Felicity's body leaned into Christian's with a will and an obvious mind of its own. “Does this mean I'm a trophy wife? Don't trophy wives live in mansions and smile fondly as their
old
husbands drive off to play golf and lunch at the club while they go have liposuction?"

"I believe that's correct. But lipo is going to have to wait for now. C'mon, come outside and see what
I
can conjure up."

Felicity didn't have any inclination to struggle with him. In fact, his warm hand holding hers and leading her out the front door felt perfectly right. The balmy evening air was perfumed with the scent of jasmine. It called to her and she held her face up to let the breeze wash over her cheeks.

"Close your eyes, witch."

Felicity obeyed as he tugged her into the silence of the night. She heard him snap his fingers and then he said, “Now open."

"Ooohhhhhh! Dammit, how do you
do
that?” she squealed in delight. God, she had a horrific case of magic envy.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, Christian poked his forefinger into the black of the night, moving it back and forth. “I concentrate, F. That's it."

Felicity's eyes moved with the motion of the carpet Christian had made from nothing more than concentrating. Maybe she had ADD too? When Felicity concentrated, nothing like this happened. She ran a tentative hand over the floating rug and smiled. “It's beautiful and soft. Is it yours?"

He hopped up onto it, the muted red color a contrast to the white of his pants. Again, he extended his hand to her. “Yep, it's mine. I've missed it. Now, give me your hand and let's go."

"Go? Oh, hell no, I won't. There is no way I'm getting on some ratty old thing from Persia sold by guys who roll their r's. I'm afraid of heights."

"F?"

"What?"

"You're a
witch
. Ya know, pointy hat and a
broom
? Broom riding requires heights."

"I know. I know, but I'm deathly afraid of heights. I figured once I get this stupid broom I can just fake it or something."

"I'll hold onto you. Don't be a sissy. It isn't every day a husband asks his wife to ride his magic carpet, you know."

She threw her head back and laughed. “You promise to hang onto me?"

"I swear on all things bewitched.” He took her hand and hauled her upward.

Felicity clung to the edges of the carpet, but Christian tugged her toward the middle.

"Ready?"

Gulping, she nodded.

He motioned forward with two fingers as they glided in an upward ascent of soft breezes and a milky way of stars.

"Open your eyes, F. It's beautiful,” he whispered in her ear as he positioned her between his legs, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She popped an eye open with caution and gasped in pure rapture. “Oh, Christian...” The black canvas of nightfall was dotted with the bright white of stars so close she could almost reach out and touch them. Leaning back against Christian's broad chest gave Felicity a small measure of comfort, a security she'd not expected to feel.

Resting his chin on her shoulder, Christian nuzzled her neck. “It always pays to listen to your husband,” he said, sliding his lips over the shell of her ear, cupping her breasts with his big hands.

A shiver of delight coursed through her veins, hot and leaving her with the urge to burrow against him.

"What say we seal our connubial deal and make some nookie?"

"We had a deal...” Her weak protest trailed off into the night.

"We did—do. It doesn't mean we can't renegotiate."

"We could...” Felicity licked her dry lips.

"Wanna?"

Fuck yeah, she wanted to. “Maybe."

"Are you playing coy?"

"Maybe."

"You know you wanna play with my fun stuff."

"Wow. Kinda high on yourself, aren't you?"

"No, I'm kinda high on
you
, F."

Gulp, gulp, gulp. Felicity shivered.

His words were enticing, hushed, whispered with desire lacing his tone and Felicity wanted to give in to them. For over a week now he'd helped her, centered her and not made a single sexual advance while he was doing it.

It was driving her flippin’ nuts.

When she was with Christian, everything seemed so much easier. Even her lame attempts at spell casting didn't seem as depressing when Christian was around to laugh with her over it. As the week waned, she found she wanted to touch him—run her fingers over his hard planes, nibble his firm lips, feel his hands on her. Inhale his smell, unique and magical. Sample the ole genie wares, so to speak.

The less he pursued her, the more Felicity wanted him to pay attention. It was keeping her awake at night. He only occasionally called her “wife” as of late and he demanded nothing from her while he helped her practice her spell casting. He even tried to help her remember the spells with silly acronyms and funny sayings.

So what was the catch here? He claimed she was his wife, but from what Felicity had read about Djinn law, no matter what he said she was, Christian was hers because she'd released him from the bottle.

As his lips trailed a path of warmth along the side of her neck, calling him
hers
wasn't something that was bringing her much trouble right now.

Of their own volition, Felicity's nipples tightened and her mouth watered for the taste of his skin against her lips.

It wasn't a bad thing to want to shag, was it? Especially if you were shagging a guy that looked like Yul Brynner and made magic with more than just a snap of his fingers. She turned slightly in his arms and captured his lips, slipping her tongue into the silken cavern of his mouth, showing him she was indeed giving in to the chemistry that sizzled between them all week long. Christian inhaled her sigh, angling his tongue to stroke hers with firm caresses, twisting her body so she came to lie over his.

It was then that Felicity realized they were like miles high above terra firma and it made her cling to him. “We'll fall if we rock this throw rug too much,” she whispered as he suckled her lower lip, shooting waves of pleasure along her spine.

"Would I let you fall?” Ignoring her protests, Christian lifted her shirt, cupping her breast, stroking her nipple through her bra, pressing her body to his hard length.

Felicity found herself forgetting the height and savoring the rigid bulge between Christian's thighs, burning a path of white-hot heat to her cunt. His hands ran over the slope of her hip, pushing at her jeans until they were at her ankles. Shrugging them off, the warm breeze filtered over her skin, making her sigh once again as Christian's arms tightened around her and he tugged at her shirt.

Running her hands over his muscled arms, she tentatively brushed them along his abdomen, sinking lower with each pass. Christian responded by rolling his hips upward, encouraging her to touch him. The thick bulge in his pants she'd made so much fun of didn't seem so funny anymore. Felicity wanted to stroke it, taste it, run her hands along the satiny flesh of it.

Christian stroked her body with tender, insistent hands, igniting small explosions as he paved a path to her nerve endings. She arched into him, acquiescing, telling him with her body that she wanted him. Felicity explored the groove of muscle at his hip, trailing her fingers along the indentation as she dipped her hands into his waistband.

He gasped sharply when she laid a hand over his cock. Felicity smiled slightly against his lips, knowing she now had the power and her power was, in turn, evoking his lust. Hot and pulsing, his cock was enticingly smooth and it compelled her to shrug his pants to his knees as she slid down the length of him and let her lips graze his shaft for the first time.