Any Witch Way She Can (4 page)

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Authors: Christine Warren

BOOK: Any Witch Way She Can
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Michael felt the surprise on her lips, tasted it on her tongue, and smiled. Beneath its sharp tang, she tasted even better than he had imagined, like whiskey and honey and a bright burst of citrus. The flavor was beguiling, addictive, and he stroked his tongue over her lips to gather it like nectar.

One hand rose to cup the back of her neck while the other arm snuck around her waist to draw her against him. He felt her shiver at the touch of his chest against her breasts, felt her stiffen, then melt against him, running hot and rich like butter.

She might have decided that her love spell had been a dud, but Michael knew better. It had brought the two of them together, all right, and whether she recognized it or not, he was her dream man. Now all he needed to do was to convince her.

Hard work, but he was willing to make the sacrifice.

Pressing his advantage, he parted her lips with his and dipped inside, exploring and claiming in the same moment. The hand at her nape tangled in the bright red-gold of her hair while the other swept over the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, and snaked around to cup her bottom and settle her hips more definitely against him.

Her moan tasted like heaven and went to his head like moonshine. He had to have her.

Changing the angle of the kiss, he drew her even closer and began to walk her backward toward the foot of the bed. He wanted her beneath him, naked and open and eager. The sooner the better.

The back of her knees struck the mattress, and she tumbled down to the soft surface. Michael followed, stretching out beside her, one leg pinning hers down, holding her, but not overwhelming her, no matter how much he wanted to.

And holy hell, did he want to.

He kissed her more urgently, lips pressing harder, tongue stroking deeper, and she met him, welcomed him, returned his kiss with a heat and sensuality that threatened to make his eyes cross. Oh, yeah. If she thought they weren't going to be together, she had another think coming.

She was the one who pulled him over her, who parted her legs to wrap them around his waist, who settled his hips in the cradle of hers and rocked suggestively against him. None of that was his fault, but it was his fault when he broke their kiss long enough to shove her stretchy tank top up off her breasts and leave it bunched in a tangle somewhere under her chin. That was all him, and he had no intention of apologizing. Especially not after he got his first look at her breasts, all white and pink and pouting eagerly up at him.

With a groan, he bent his head and fastened his mouth around one firm peak, sucking strongly, pressing the warm little bud against the roof of his mouth while his hand stroked over its twin with something akin to reverence.

Randy moaned, a strangled, desperate little sound that felt almost like a hand stroking his cock. Her hips twisted, rubbing against him like a cat and just as eager for stroking. Dragging a hand up the outside of her leg, he drew his head back and rasped the edge of his teeth across her swollen nipple in the same instant that his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shorts to find her slick heat.

They both froze.

Randy's eyes flew open, the brown velvet looking even softer through a haze of arousal. Her lips were parted, curved into a silent ‘o' of surprise and pleasure. He watched her while his fingers stroked, teased, explored. He saw every ripple of pleasure in her eyes, felt every shiver, heard her breathless cry when he circled her entrance with one finger before sliding in deep.

“Oh, my God.”

Her head fell back, her eyes drifted shut. She clenched around him, her body struggling to keep him close, and her hips arched to take even more of him. Michael bit back a curse of his own. He practically shook with the need to take her. Desire rode him brutally, and he wanted nothing more than to strip off the rest of her clothes, unzip his trousers, and sink into her until they both forgot their names.

The need surprised him, confused him, but he couldn't deny it. He'd never wanted this badly in his life, never knew with such gut-deep certainty that this was right, that this woman was meant to be his. After hearing about her miscast spell, he knew it wasn't magic that made him feel this way; it was something even more powerful. It was fate.

Starving, shaking, Michael forced himself to focus on her face, to watch as her eyes drifted open and locked on his. Her breath came in shallow pants, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she spoke.

“I told you…I don't have sex with men I've only known twenty minutes.”

Without even bothering to look at his watch, Michael leaned down and caught her lower lip between his teeth. Tugging gently, he twisted the hand between her thighs deeper and listened to her gasp. Then he soothed the sting of his bite with a stroke of his tongue and stared intently down at her. “It's been at least forty-five.”

Her eyes glittered and her lips curved as she lifted a hand to his neck, tugging him down to her. “Well, in that case…” She pressed her lips to his, kissed him so deeply, so hotly, he swore he could feel his eyebrows burst into flames. “Do carry on.”

I'm pleased to see you taking so seriously the values your parents and I worked to instill in you, Miranda.”

If anything in the world existed that had the power to kill Randy's libido faster and more thoroughly than having her grandmother walk in on her during what promised to be some really amazing sex, Randy would put a bounty on its head and display the preserved carcass on her living room wall.

Uttering a tortured groan, she broke away from Michael's über-hot kiss and let her arms, legs, and head bounce backward onto the mattress. “Just kill me,” she muttered to the ceiling. “Kill me now.”

“For heaven's sake, girl, put some clothes on,” Adele ordered as she closed the bedroom door with herself on the wrong side of it. “I should hardly need to tell you this behavior is completely unacceptable.”

“Feel free not to.”

“But we have more important things to discuss at the moment,” her grandmother continued as if Randy had never spoken.

Randy's teeth clenched tight and she yanked down her top with unnecessary force. “Fine.” She pushed herself away from Michael and rolled off the end of the bed to stand on legs that hadn't caught back on to the whole muscle-control thing yet. She locked her knees to stop the quivering. “I'll just leave you two kids to chat and see myself out. No, no. Don't anyone bother themselves about me. I'll be fine. I'll call. Really, I will. Toodles.”

Michael caught her wrist before she'd taken so much as a step. “That's not necessary.” His tone stayed mild, but his eyes glittered a warning. “You should hear this.”

“Oh, trust me, sweetie, I've heard it all before.”

Adele drew herself up and gave him her Queen of the Universe stare. “I am sure that's not necessary, Michael.”

“Yeah, Michael.” Randy tugged at her wrist. “Not necessary at all.”

“Oh, but I beg to differ.” Rising himself, Michael tugged Randy to the small sitting area near the fireplace and urged her onto the love seat. When that didn't work, he gave her a little push. Her butt hit the cushions and bounced twice, but at least she had the satisfaction of landing with her eyes on a level with his crotch and seeing that he was no happier with Adele's interruption than she'd been.

He turned away from her and waved Adele to the armchair opposite while he settled down beside Randy. “Adele, I think it's time you told your family what's been going on. That is why you invited them, after all.”

“Mine must have gotten lost in the mail.”

Adele scowled at her granddaughter's comment. “I invited Cassidy and Sullivan.”

“See, that's just one of my many talents,” Randy said, moving to rise. “Not only do I always know when I'm not wanted, but I also know when I want to be somewhere—anywhere—else. So, if you'll excuse me?”

Michael pressed her down with a hand on her shoulder, but his words were directed at Adele. “True, but Cassidy and her husband were unable to join you, while Randy is sitting right here.”

“Under duress,” she muttered.

“I may be old,” Adele snapped, “but I am neither a fool nor blind. I can see my granddaughter clearly. What I do not see is how you think she can assist in a problem among the Others. Perhaps you have forgotten, but she is only human.”

And she's got a mean right hook
, Randy thought, but she kept that to herself. Both the thought and the hook. You'd think that after all these years, she'd be used to hearing her grandmother condemn her with words to that effect.

You'd think.

“Human, maybe,” Michael said and laid his hand on Randy's knee. She suppressed a shiver. “Ordinary, I think not.”

Adele looked skeptical. “Isn't that what being human means?”

“Seriously,” Randy rounded on Michael with a roll of her eyes. “Do I need to sit here and listen to this?”

“I think you both need to sit and listen.” Exasperation finally broke through his façade of calm. “For two incredibly capable, intelligent women, I have to say you're acting like idiots.”

Adele opened her mouth to protest, but Michael cut her off. “You,” he said, jabbing a finger at her, “are holding so tightly to your preconceived notions and your old-school prejudices that you refuse to acknowledge what's right in front of you. You keep calling Randy ‘human' like it's a fatal weakness. Did you happen to miss the fact that no matter what you call her, she not only managed to perform magic, but actually put a wrinkle in the fabric of time? I know ninety-year-old elders on the Witches' Council who have never managed to pull that off! Say what you like about her parents or her species, but your granddaughter has talent.”

Randy blinked. “I do?”

“And you,” Michael continued, turning that finger on Randy, “you've erected a wall against your grandmother that's so high, just looking at it would give a Tibetan Sherpa altitude sickness! You refuse to even give her a chance to approve of you. You're so busy being rebellious and demonstrating that you don't need your grandmother's approval that you make it impossible for her to give it even if she wanted to. I don't know how you two got to this point, but I think it's time to declare a cease-fire. Even an idiot could see that the main reason you keep sniping at each other is that you're each too stubborn to be the first one to try something different!”

Adele shifted. “It is?”

Michael glared at her. “Don't start with me.”

Unsure whether to offer him a cigarette or throw him out the nearest window, Randy settled for a short laugh. “Okay, then. Feel good to get that off your chest, tiger?”

His expression told her he was not amused. “Peachy.”

“Much as I appreciate your attempt to break up this cat-fight,” she said, ignoring the roaring in her ears and pushing to her feet, “I think this situation is a little more complex than you're giving it credit for.”

“What's complicating it?” he demanded, standing with her so he could maintain his advantage of height. “Your godawful stubbornness? Your inability to give up so much as an inch of your wounded pride and offer your family an olive branch?”

Shaking with fury, she stood toe to toe with him and shouted right back into his face. “How about the fact that my family seems to be allergic to olive branches and it's none of your goddamned business that my grandmother wouldn't even ask for my help washing the dishes, let alone give me credit for actually being capable of making a valuable contribution to anything! If Adele wanted my help, she'd ask for it, but since I'm human, and therefore worthless, your little kiss-and-make-up scene isn't going to change anything! So
BACK the HELL OFF
!”

“Miranda!” Adele's cane thumped against the carpet. “Michael is merely trying to help. There's no reason to act so abusively toward him. I expect better of you.”

“Yeah?” Randy had more than enough fury to go around by this point. “Since when?”

The old woman's lips tightened, but she remained silent.

Randy just shook her head. “Perfect. Everything is so much better now, Michael. How can I ever thank you?”

“By parking your ass back on the love seat and hearing me out.”

That wasn't so hard to do, especially now that Randy seemed to have yelled herself out. She didn't so much park as collapse and bury her face in her hands. “Fine. Whatever. Just get it over with so I can go home, okay?”

Michael settled back down beside her, but he didn't try to make her look at him, which was a relief. She'd probably have bitten his hand off if he tried.

“I'm not going to defend your grandmother's decision not to involve her
whole
family in the current situation, but I will admit that these events are somewhat sensitive.”

Randy snorted into her hands. “Is that why I saw at least thirty people coming out of the dining room? You guys certainly have a different idea of confidentiality than I do.”

“I had sixteen guests,” Adele said, sounding almost sulky, which Randy supposed represented a slight improvement over disdainful. “Not thirty. Four witches, four shifters, four vampires, and four of the minor Others. And all of them have a vested interest in what's going on.”

At that, Randy raised her head and looked across the short space at Adele. “And what is the situation? A thousand-ton asteroid is hurtling through space toward us and the Others are going to blast it out of the sky with their amazing powers of laser-vision and hubris?”

“Sarcasm isn't going to be helpful, Randy.” Michael's tone carried a warning. “It's nothing quite so movie-of-the-week, but your grandmother does have quite a situation on her hands. She didn't just invite us all over for the pleasure of our scintillating company.”

“I have no trouble believing that.” Randy let herself fall back against the cushions of the love seat and adopted a world-weary expression. “So what vast conspiracy against your rightful claim to the throne is afoot now, Adele?”

Michael shot her a killing glance and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you would care to rephrase that?”

Randy debated saying no, but something in Michael's face told her she might end up eating her words. She sighed. “Fine. What seems to be the problem, then?”

Adele inclined her head to acknowledge the wording. Randy thought she'd never looked more like a queen. “The bottom line is that someone is trying to undermine my position on the Council of Others.”

“Someone seems to be intercepting the plans Adele prepares to present before the Council and rushing to put them to the membership before Adele has the chance to do so,” Michael clarified. “Then when the ideas are approved, the liar gets the credit and your grandmother is forced to grin and bear it or else look like a sore loser who can't resist saying, ‘I said it first!'”

Randy frowned. She had to admit this wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear. From the way her grandmother told it, Adele's family had built the Council from bare stone, and it would collapse the minute she or one of her heirs stopped holding it together through force of will. From what little her father had told Randy about the Berry family, a Foxwoman of their bloodline had always served on the Council, rarely as the head of it, but often as a power behind the throne.

“How is that even possible?” she asked, truly puzzled. “You've been on the Council for nearly forty years. From what Cassidy says, every single person presently on it knows how significant your part is in it. How could anyone think they could undermine you at this point?”

“Quite easily,” Adele said, her bearing almost painfully regal. “Power is a strong motivator. Someone who could convince the Council that their advice would serve them better than mine would find himself with an awful lot of it in a very short period of time.”

“But who on earth could possibly accomplish that?”

Michael took Randy's hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing gently as he held her gaze squarely with his. “We think it may be my uncle.”

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