ATwistedMagick (6 page)

She answered the last question. “Tomorrow. Fest of the Book.”

He didn’t know what she meant by Fest of the Book. “What time?”

She frowned. “Eleven usually.”

“I think we should stay here then.” He’d just do one room and promise to keep his hands off her. He could manage that, right? “You can have a nice hangover-curing breakfast in the morning and have plenty of time to get to work. How does that sound?”

“I’m not going to have a hangover.” She jutted her lips petulantly.

“Oh yes you will.” He altered their direction slightly to keep going down the mall to the end. She was doing a reasonably good job of acting sober, so they wouldn’t get immediately thrown out on their asses by a security guard. They walked up to the check-in desk. “I’d like a room.”

He nearly choked when he heard the price. Should he rethink his plan? Walking to the other end of the mall dragging Shylah was not something he wanted to do, but that’s where his car was parked. He did a mental calculation of his overall budget. He might have to skip the electric bill, but he thought he could swing the rent…if nothing else came up requiring money. Luckily his plane ticket was round trip.

“Would you like the room, sir?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” He mourned over his credit card as he handed it to the clerk. “Is it two doubles?”

The clerk paused before running the card through the machine. “No, a king. There are no doubles left.”

Gabe groaned but gestured for him to go ahead with swiping the card.

Minutes later, they were on the third floor walking down a curvy hall, with Gabe wondering where the hell the room was. The hallway was endless, with the expanse of beige carpeting broken only by the occasional room service tray awaiting pick-up. They rounded a corner and finally he saw their room number. He pulled out the swipe card.

“Where are we going?” Shylah asked, stopping dead, pulling free from Gabe. Good, the alcohol was moving through her system.

“We’re staying here for the night.”

“I am not. I’m going home.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me what we’ve talked about since leaving the restaurant, specifically any questions I’ve asked you.”

She blinked, opened her mouth and closed it again. “I told you where my car was parked.”

“Good. What else?”

“How should I know? You weren’t very exciting.” She looked down suddenly. “My purse…”

“Is on your shoulder. You’re fine, but you can’t drive.”

“Yes I can.”

Gabe snatched her purse before it occurred to her to pull out her keys.

“Hey!”

He swiped the key card, saw the light turn green, then went inside, pulling Shylah after him.

As soon as the door closed she slipped into the bathroom and didn’t come out for five minutes, but he didn’t hear any heaving so she wasn’t being sick, a good sign. Wine tended to give people headaches rather than stomach aches, didn’t it? Had he ever been really drunk on just wine? Now, his uncle’s
aguardiente
, that had knocked him on his ass on more than one occasion.

“Feel better now?” he asked when she emerged from the bathroom with a freshly scrubbed face.

She glared at him. “You did this to me! What did you put in my drink?”

“Nada! You can blame me for the dinner and the wine, but I didn’t put anything in it and you’re the one who couldn’t tell when to stop.”

“You should have done it for me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked five years old…only a bit bustier.

“Are you a child?”

She humpfed and sat on the bed, since Gabe sat in the desk chair. “You could’ve taken me home in your car.”

“I considered that, but you said you had to be at work at eleven a.m. It seemed easier to stay here.”

“Easier for you, maybe.”

Yeah, easier for him, but not cheaper for him. He’d probably be kicking himself in the morning.

* * * * *

Shylah bit her lip to keep the nausea at bay. Then a pain stabbed through her forehead, so she pressed her finger against it, willing it to go away. She had aspirin in her purse, but Gabe hadn’t relinquished that yet.

She should have stopped at one glass. Wine didn’t set well with her. She suspected she was allergic to one of the preservatives, because she did seem to have better luck with organic wines. But she knew why she hadn’t stopped at one glass, and it wasn’t just to fortify herself against Gabe’s interrogation. She’d been fighting her attraction to Gabe, while her libido was telling her screw that. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, and every bone in her body wanted to jump this hot, yummy, delicious man.

Gabe opened her purse, and, without looking, dug out her keys and pocketed them. “Here’s your purse.”

“You suck, and I still think you planned this. Did I say something incriminating?”

“Not yet…. Look, how about I fix us some coffee?” He grabbed the pot from the coffee maker and went to the bathroom to fill it with water.

The headache was growing worse, so Shylah chewed a couple of baby aspirin and plopped back onto the bed. Gabe came back out and spent a few minutes fiddling with the coffee maker. Once it was perking, he came over and lay down next to her. She would’ve shoved him away, but that seemed like too much work. She wondered if he had anything stronger than baby aspirin, or maybe housekeeping did. She turned her head to ask about this and he kissed her. Out of the blue.

Maybe he was drunk too?

He turned on his side and trapped her leg under his, kissing her more deeply. That seemed to alleviate the pain a bit, so she went with it. He teased her lips open until his tongue could slip through. The kiss intensified with his tongue deeper in her mouth and hers in his. Rough texture and sherry taste. Warm and wet. She was overwhelmed by sensations, like the barest hint of cologne lingering on his skin. It had been so long since she’d felt this closeness with anyone. The kick of desire had her clutching Gabe’s shoulders and wrapping her legs tighter around him.

Gabe pulled away from her suddenly, holding himself on his arms, so Shylah grabbed the front of his shirt and tried to pull him back. “Are you in charge of your faculties?” he asked, his eyes examining hers carefully.

“Huh?” She tugged again, but he was immobile. She wasn’t ready to break away from the feelings of comfort that came from closeness with another human being, not to mention the pleasure zinging in her nerve endings.

“Are you sober, basically?”

She assessed her mental status. “Not quite stone cold.”

“Coffee then.”

“You don’t really want coffee now, do you?”

“Nope, but we need coffee.”

Shylah managed to disentangle herself from him, scolding herself for being so easy. He was right. They should have coffee.

“Here you go.” He handed her a mug.

“Thanks.” She sipped. It was terrible. “You made it too strong.”

“The stronger the better to sober you up with.”

“What if I want to have sex with you?”

He sat in the chair next to the bed and grinned. “Hey, I’m not saying no. Want to watch some TV?”

“No.” She drank more of the coffee, staring at Gabe’s profile. He had a strong jawline and thick lashes. Nope, it didn’t matter how much coffee she drank. She wanted him. She sat her mug on the nightstand. “I think you should kiss me some more.”

He turned, gave her this dark, sexy gaze. “Okay.” Setting his coffee down, he un-tucked his shirt then knelt on the bed. Shylah gazed at his crotch, encased in nice, tight jeans, and bit her lip. Suddenly Gabe grinned and lunged. Then he was kissing her again. Tongue and teeth and lips. Chin, forehead, earlobes. He centered himself over her body and rested some of his weight on her. She widened her legs so that his thighs could rest between them.

Bracing himself on one elbow, he cupped her breast through her shirt, then he brushed that out of the way so he could feel her bra. Then he slipped his fingers under her bra, gliding them over her taut nipple. And finally, he removed all of the fabric with a quick tug over her head, so he could suck her nipples deep into his mouth, nearly raising her off the bed as she bent back in pleasure.

“Wow,” he said, as he tugged on the nipple gently. Shylah was flushed all over as he went for her other breast. After suckling her for so long that she felt lost in a dream, he leaned back enough so he could take his shirt off. They were on top of the paisley comforter, as if moving under the covers would make it too definite, too real. He pressed his warm chest, lightly dusted with hair, against her breasts and he gave her all of his weight as he went back to kissing her. There was no mistaking his arousal as he rocked his hips against her.

A pragmatic voice deep in her brain told her to stop, not to trust him, that she still had alcohol in her blood system, which was easing her inhibitions. Oddly, though, that quiet voice seemed to come from behind a loud waterfall of desire, and if she focused on the waterfall instead of the words, she didn’t hear the voice at all.

He put his large hands on either side of her waist to help her scoot back onto the center of the bed. Ah, that was better on her back and gave them both more leverage. Leverage was important in this particular activity. He unsnapped her pants and removed them, leaving her in her lacy bikini panties. For some reason, she’d chosen them this morning instead of her usual cotton ones. A bit of precognition? He lowered his face to hers and kissed her, which distracted her so much that she was startled to feel his fingers rubbing her lace panties, the pressure directly on her clit. Lace was not the smoothest fabric and could cause uncomfortable friction. Gabe seemed to realize this, because his fingers dipped under the fabric until they reached her wetness. Bringing that up to her clit did a great job lubricating and she lost herself in pleasure. Tiring of the fabric all together, she soon felt the panties sliding over her thighs, knees and feet. Gone.

“Do you want to get on the sheets?” Gabe asked.

“Sure.”

He backed away from her so she could push the comforter out of the way. The sheets were crisp white. Gabe took the opportunity to dispose of his pants and briefs. He slid in next to her and pulled the top sheet over both of them. A cocoon of warmth around their bodies as they met skin to skin.

Her sensible voice tried to break through, but then Gabe fingered her clit again, obliterating any chance of rational thought. He was slightly to the side of her, his cock stiff against her hip. The hair of his legs lightly prickling her skin. He slid two fingers inside of her.

“Oh shit!”

“Like that?” He slid in another finger. “Better?”

“Fuck.”

He chuckled. “I take that as a yes.” He kissed her collarbone then her neck as he bent those fingers to rub against the top wall of her vagina, searching for the elusive G-spot. Once he found it, Shylah stopped breathing and stayed very still as he pressed against it and moved his finger in tiny circles. She gulped in another breath of air so she wouldn’t pass out.

“Your thumb…”

“Hmm?”

“On my clit, please.” She went back to holding her breath as he obliged. “Oh Goddess!” He moved his thumb the tiniest bit and applied pressure, while his finger still moved inside her. Everything inside Shylah coiled tighter and tighter until finally she tipped over the edge. Her orgasm was earth shaking. He continued to touch and kiss her hypersensitive body as her vagina squeezed again and again.

“Liked that, did you?” She could feel his gloating smile against her neck.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Think you can do that again?”

Oh man, could she? He pulled out his fingers and centered his hips above hers so he could press his erection against her opening. Without waiting for an affirmative answer, he plunged inside her. The stretching. His thick cock against her walls. A push in deep and a slow stroke out to his tip. Again. Again. Gradually he increased his speed until he found a comfortable rhythm. She opened her eyes to see his biceps strain as he held his chest away from her enough to keep himself at a good angle. His chest and stomach were model gorgeous. Tight and lean and strong. She looked up to see him looking down at her. They gazed at each other for a long moment until the pleasure seemed to grip him. He closed his eyes and emitted a guttural moan. His rhythm increased and she felt her own body begin to tighten.

You need him to stop. You’re forgetting…

She lost herself in intense orgasm again. He lost it right after her, his body jerking in response, his breath loud in her ear, his cum warm inside her. His cock stayed hard and if either of them moved the slightest bit, it jerked a bit. When they both settled into stillness, he lowered his body to her, giving her his full heat and weight. He kissed her neck lightly, and she listened to his breath as it grew slower and slower, felt his cock soften inside her. He rolled off her finally and pulled her into his arms. She put her leg over his and relaxed into cozy sleep.

* * * * *

Gabe woke from his doze and twirled one of Shylah’s locks around his finger, admiring its silkiness and dark, dark color. She slept. Gabe couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed. There was always too much to do to keep his business running, too many crimes to solve. He settled deeper into the pillow and closed his eyes again. He didn’t want to start thinking about real life yet. But now his closed eyes felt forced and job thoughts intruded anyway, like the fact that he’d just slept with the subject of his investigation. God, where were his ethics? Apparently he’d left them in California.

He opened his eyes. She was so warm against him. Her eyes closed with a soft fringe of long lashes. He didn’t want to disturb her, so he refrained from moving his body as he turned his head to look at the digital clock. Two a.m. The lamps on the nightstands were still on, not to mention the fluorescent light in the hallway. Geez, they’d not even paused, except to finally get between the sheets.

She’d looked so delectable when she lay back on the bed. He’d just wanted to kiss her, just one kiss. He’d thought she’d change her mind after she’d gotten some coffee in her. He prayed she wouldn’t wake up and accuse him of taking advantage of her. A couple of times his investigative brain had intruded and said seducing her was the best way to gain her trust and get her to trip up around him. He told himself that this was not part of his investigation. No ulterior motives. But was that true?

Carefully he slipped away from Shylah, trying not to disturb her sleep. He hit the bathroom and ran the water in the shower. Once it was nice and steamy he stepped in and let it sluice over his head. He was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair before he realized what had been tugging at the back of his mind—condom, or lack of condom, actually.
¡A la chingada!
How could he be so stupid? He prayed she was on the pill. He had to ask her. She hadn’t stopped him at any point, so it must not have occurred to her either. God! He used condoms even if the woman said she was on the pill. He’d always tuck a fresh one in his wallet before a date, just in case, but a date had not been on his mind when he’d tracked down Shylah at her shop.

Drying himself and combing his hair, he told himself that pregnancy was highly unlikely. It took most couples several tries. He’d never gotten another woman pregnant before, even when a condom had broken during the act. He remembered that clearly, because he didn’t get to come. The lady had flipped out when she’d realized what happened. She’d run to the shower to try to rinse him out of her, but he was pretty sure it didn’t work that way.

So…highly unlikely. Nothing to worry about.

For a moment, he thought about chickening out and not mentioning it. Maybe she’d never realize it.

Yeah, until she misses her period.

That was not going to happen. He had a life in California and a fledgling business and he didn’t need child support tacked on top. He certainly didn’t need another wife. Since a Protestant wife had caused such a rift in his family, he couldn’t imagine what they would think of a Wiccan.

The knock on the door startled him. “Hey, are you done in there? I could really use…um…you know.”

He straightened and made sure the towel was tied securely around his waist. He hadn’t thought about bringing his clothes in with him. He opened the door and Shylah stood there with mussed hair and her bundle of her clothes blocking all her private parts. She kept her eyes to the floor and backed up when he walked out. Then she dashed into the bathroom and immediately turned on the faucet.

Gabe combed his fingers through his damp hair, before dropping the towel and getting dressed. It was still only three a.m., but he could sneak out and let her keep the hotel room until she had to go to the shop in the actual morning. The idea was so tempting that he found himself walking to the door and gripping the handle.

He took a deep breath. He was not a chicken shit. He could face Shylah, had to in fact, since he’d started this mess. He’d asked her to dinner, he’d refilled her wine and he’d brought her here instead of taking her home. And, most importantly, he’d kissed her. He crossed back to the desk chair and sat down, schooling his face to a nonchalant expression. No reason to cause her to panic the minute she walked out of the bathroom.

* * * * *

Shylah panicked as she examined her body in the shower. She had small aches, but they were good aches. Her head, which had felt great during sex, was pounding again. Her skin had light abrasion marks from his rough five o’clock shadow and her lips felt plump or something. She couldn’t get a handle on the right word. All this was good. It meant she’d been well loved. Except she hadn’t been. She’d been well-fucked but not well loved. With sudden suspicion, she wondered whether he’d planned this to catch her off guard, gain her trust.

Well, she trusted him even less at this point.

But the panic point had nothing to do with Gabe’s motives, and everything to do with what her rational brain had been trying to tell her before she’d lost all cognition.
You’re forgetting…

Holy shit, what they’d forgotten!

She hung her head and wondered how long she could hide out in the shower before he came in looking for her. Maybe he’d left already. That would be convenient.

She emerged from the bathroom several minutes later, completely covered by yesterday’s clothes and a towel wrapped around her hair. He was still here. Damn. He had his clothes back on too, but he still looked hot. Her face flushed as memories of the past few hours came back to her. Embarrassment warred with instant arousal. God, she’d take him again if he offered the least encouragement, but he was sitting stiff in the desk chair with a scowl on his face. So he wasn’t happy. Good, there wouldn’t be a repeat. He’d even made the bed. Neither of them had slept over an hour, judging by the time. She sat down on the edge of the bed and continued to dry her hair. It took forever to blow dry her hair, so she didn’t start until her hair had dried to damp.

Was he going to mention the condom issue? Had he thought of it?

“Shylah,” he said in a tone that said he was going to say more, but then he clamped his mouth shut. He closed his eyes, opened them to focus on her, and tried again. “Shylah, this is all my fault.”

“You didn’t force me.”

“No, not that. I invited you to dinner, brought you here and seduced you.”

“Seduced me? It felt pretty mutual.”

She saw a flash of humor in his eyes and a slight upturn of one corner of his mouth, but that immediately leveled out again. “It’s that we…we didn’t use a condom. You’re on the pill, right?”

He looked so hopeful, even though not using a condom opened them both up to venereal diseases. Funny, that didn’t bother her anywhere nearly as much as pregnancy did. She wanted her own family, but not with a PI from California who thought she was evil enough to kill two children. She was so mad at herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She put the towel down and shook her head.

“You’re not on the pill?” Another headshake. “Why the hell not?”

It was embarrassing to tell him, but embarrassment seemed unimportant on top of her other worries. “I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time, so why waste the money and keep feeding something artificial into my body?” She’d actually been on the pill while she was teaching, but when she’d lost her job, she’d lost her insurance. She hadn’t gotten around to finding a clinic where she might be able to get the pill at a reduced price. She’d just figured it was better for her body to stay off it. It wasn’t as if anyone in town would dare have a relationship with the local witch.

“Because some things are worth spending money on!” His tone had risen higher and his anger was becoming palpable. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop if you knew you weren’t on the pill?” He jumped to his feet to pace. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Shylah tried to ground herself so she could get in touch with her body’s intuition. She should get some sort of vibration if a new life had been formed, right? But Gabe kept pacing and swearing. Combine that with lack of sleep and a bit of a hangover, and she couldn’t concentrate at all. She couldn’t even think what to do next. She needed sleep to survive the day at her shop. She was hoping the Festival of the Book would bring a lot of traffic into the New Age store as an author of a book on crystals was doing a signing. As much as she needed sleep, she needed to get away from Gabe so she could think straight. She rose to her feet, which got Gabe to stop pacing. She found her purse and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning, and your car’s still in the parking garage.”

“I can walk. The night air will help clear my head.”

“No, you stay here, I’ll go. I don’t want you wandering around after dark.”

“I’m not a child. If I shouldn’t be out walking this late then neither should you.”

“I’m a man and a trained PI.”

She stood her ground in front of the door and stared at him. The trained PI part made sense. He’d probably had some self-defense training. But the “I’m a man” part was ludicrous. “I want to go home. I never sleep deeply in hotel rooms.”

“If you go home, I go home with you. I can follow you in my car now that you seem to be safe to drive.”

God, she just wanted to get away from him. Her stomach was a ball of churning butter, her head hurt, her eyes stung, and she was so tired. And all of a sudden her body rejected the churning butter. It came up her throat, so she covered her mouth and dashed into the restroom, not even taking the time to shut the door. Sitting at the foot of the toilet, she would’ve died of embarrassment if she wasn’t so busy puking up everything she’d eaten and drunk a few hours earlier.

A hand lifted her hair away from her face and placed a cool wet washcloth on her neck, which immediately calmed the nausea. She stopped heaving so she lifted her head, but still didn’t feel up to moving. And now her mouth tasted nasty. The hand returned with a cup of water for her. She couldn’t believe that Gabe had followed her in here when she was so disgusting.

He sat down on the floor next to her and pulled her against his shoulder. “Feeling better?”

She nodded then sipped more water. She really needed to brush her teeth…as soon as she could stand without wobbling.

“Look, it’s silly for either of us to go anywhere at this time of the morning. We’re both tired and you’re obviously not feeling good, so you take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor or in a chair or something.”

“If we both stay, then we might as well share the bed. It’s not like we haven’t done it already.”

“True.”

“But keep your hands and other body parts to yourself.”

“Yes ma’am.” He helped her stand before leaving the bathroom while she combed her hair again. She would give anything for a toothbrush, but would have to settle for gargling more water. Her eyes were totally bloodshot and she was suddenly craving OJ. Well, that would have to wait for the real morning. She thought about wearing her pants in bed, but she opted for comfort, her shirt and undies. She was going to have to wear these same clothes in the morning. Ew! There were a few clothing shops on the mall where she could buy a fresh shirt, so that would have to do.