Love Potions (5 page)

Her big eyes had looked up at him, and he just knew she ached like he did. The sweet smell of her told him she was wet, so ready to be taken. Erik had lived too long not to trust his inner instincts. As he’d kissed her lips, he couldn’t help thinking of how he wanted them intimately wrapped around his body. Almost instantly, she started sucking on his tongue, just as he would have her do his arousal.

As if by instinct, she knew what he wanted. It was like she read his desires. Her fingers gripped his hips, just as he liked. The animal inside him sought a woman who was aggressive and confident. Good thing he’d bound the creature until he could get the house secured for his family, or he’d not be able to control himself with her.

Her scent was in his head, calling to him. He wanted to lay her on the soft grass and spend hours worshipping her body, taking her until they came so many times they couldn’t move. And then, he’d take her again. If she let him he’d spend the next several weeks, as he got the house ready, hopping in and out of her bed.

Oh, the things he wanted to do with her.

Her gorgeous eyes opened and looked up at him. She licked her lips, wetting them as she moved them closer. Erik tensed, not having realized what had happened until that moment. A light sheen of his power was in her gaze, mixing with her passion. Suddenly, it all made sense as the truth came crashing around him. She was an
inthrall
.

In a moment of painful sanity, he pushed her away. He wasn’t sure how he managed with as weak as he was becoming. She growled low in her throat, her head bobbing possessively forward as if she’d continue. Erik was torn. It had been so long since he’d felt such longing and desire. Only the look in her eyes stopped him.

No. Not like this. Not with an
inthrall
. Already she’d taken too much from him, leaving his body weakened. Breathless he groaned. Half-teasing, half-serious, completely desperate to say anything to get her to back away until she could reclaim her senses, he said, “Aye, lass, it’s a fine welcome ya give a man.”

…

Lydia stopped moving, completely stunned by what was happening. Her lips were still parted, on the verge of going forward to finish what she’d started. The strange euphoria that urged her to act on primal, carnal instinct—and nothing else—lightened its hold over her. Slowly, as if by not moving too fast she could disappear, she pulled away, drawing her hands to the ground for support as she pushed up.

Aye, lass, it’s a fine welcome ya give a man.

Oh. My.

She took a deep breath.

Omigod!

Lydia couldn’t look at him. What in the world had she done? She just got on her knees like some cheap slut and tried to give her new neighbor head like it was an everyday occurrence.

Bad. This is very, very bad. And wrong. So very wrong.

Horrified, she discovered her breasts were exposed for all to see. Well, for him to see anyway. Thankfully they were completely alone.

Lydia struggled to her feet, gripping her shirt. Her sex was so wet, ready to be ridden. Each pull of her body shot fire through her limbs. By the look of his remarkable, still erect shaft, he was willing to continue their tryst.

Lydia made a weak noise of dismay. If not for his words bringing her back to reality, she would’ve still been on her hands and knees begging him to…

No. No. She couldn’t even think it. She had to get out of there. This was too humiliating. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She shook her head, ready to run.

“Lydia,” Erik said. “It isn’t a bad thing to have a bit of fun now and again. I’ll not think less of ya for staying and enjoying yourself if that is what ya chose to do. I know I would enjoy your company immensely.”

She met his eyes for the briefest of seconds before taking off into a full sprint down the hill.

…

Erik tried to run after her, grabbing his pants as he tripped. He couldn’t stand the confused, hurt look in her eyes. Even more prevalent was a sense of utter humiliation. He knew instinctively that she’d never have done such a thing had he not cast the stupid spell. Usually the thing acted as a harmless icebreaker. With Lydia, it opened her up to him. He stumbled on a patch of grass, catching himself. With his size and strength, he could easily overtake her on foot. Suddenly, a gust of wind came from behind her, slamming him back into the tree. Feelings of horror, mortification and regret washed over him. The strength of them tore at his heart, making his entire being physically ache. They were her feelings.

Erik had sex aplenty in his long life and with many women. None of them made him feel like she did without even completing the act. None made him feel like he did at this moment—weak and powerful at the same time, dominant and protective, possessive and slightly obsessive. He took a deep breath, pinned to the tree with magick unable to move, still feeling the aftereffects of the pleasure she’d almost given him, now mixed with her repentance.

For a long moment, he stared, stunned that she’d absorbed so much of him from just a brief contact. They hadn’t even had sex. If she absorbed so much of his magick from just thinking about him between her lips, as to keep him away, then what would happen if he would’ve actually slept with her? Would she drain his energies dry? Would such an act be the end of his powers? Would the act be the end of his life?

Remembering her sweet scent and the pleasure of her kiss, Erik groaned. He could tell by her reaction that she hadn’t meant to go that far. Had she been herself, the best he could have hoped for this first day was the brush of her hand, or perhaps a chaste kiss. Ah, but would it matter if she was the end of him? If he was ever to surrender to a woman, he couldn’t think of a better way to go than at the mercy of the most captivating Lydia Barratt.

Chapter Three

Lydia shivered from head to toe, letting the freezing cold water from the shower hit her skin. It helped to alleviate the full body throbbing, although barely.

“Omigod,” she moaned. “What did I do? What did I do?”

How in the world could she even walk out of the house again? She barely left it as it was, except to walk around on the hill and down to the post office. Now she’d become a total recluse, the crazy lady with the scary house little children dared each other to knock on. And what was worse, the mansion gardens had been a favorite spot of hers. It looked like she wasn’t going to be able to go there anymore. It wasn’t like she could face Erik after the little “welcome gift” she’d almost given him.

“Omigod.”

Just thinking of it made her tingle in a way she’d never experienced. Closing her eyes, all she could see was his firm body, the way his neck and face looked under the dancing lights of the shade. Lydia opened her mouth, letting the water hit inside. It was no use. She could still taste his lips and the damned warm, sweet liquor that flavored them.

Her body ached, despite the cold water. She couldn’t calm her racing heart, couldn’t temper back the desire in her belly. As she lathered soap over her skin, the sensations only became worse. The same thing happened as she washed her hair. Deciding the cold shower wasn’t going to do the trick, she got out. Pulling a soft pink robe around her arms, she stumbled weakly from the bathroom.

Not bothering to brush her hair, she fell onto the soft feather mattress of her bed. Even the suppleness against her back was a caress, driving her senses over the edge. Before she could think to stop herself, she was wiggling, parting her thighs. Her robe fell open, exposing her body.

“Erik,” she whispered, desperately wishing he was with her. Instantly her body heated, no longer cold from her long shower. It was as if she’d never taken it.

The scent of him came to mind. With one hand she pinched her nipples, running the other down her stomach to her sex. Parting her wet folds, she bit her lip. She never remembered being so aroused before. Her finger glided in the moist heat, and she found her swollen bud buried in the velvet folds.

What would his body feel like prying her open? At that she shivered. Maybe he would be too big.

“It’s not like I’m ever going to find out,” she promised herself, not daring to give credence to the disappointment the words caused her.

The early evening sky darkened considerably outside her window, as if a cloud passed over the setting sun. Lace curtains blew inward, carrying with them the smell of fresh air. She wondered what it would be like to have him there, strong hands gripping her hips to keep her from squirming, warm lips tasting and licking every inch of her.

Automatically, she knew he’d be demanding in bed, conquering her as he saw fit. He was so bold, so confident. And why not? He had the body of a god to back it up.

It was like Charlotte always said. Men weren’t confident anymore. There were no more warriors, no impossibly dominant males who fiercely protected their women. Society had driven fear into men, fear that they’d be arrested for allowing their base urges to roam free. Not that taking a woman against her will was acceptable. Somehow, Lydia doubted Erik would be the type to need to ask for permission to be a real man.

Whatever was going on inside her today was definitely working. Tension built where her fingers touched, spreading uncontrollably over her taut flesh. Her skin was so sensitive and firm, her breathing ragged. Lydia closed her eyes, arching back on the bed. Self-pleasure had never done this to her before.

“Erik,” she cried softly, closing her eyes tight. Her hands flew back over her head. The sensations only continued. It was like she could feel his mouth on her. Lydia was too afraid to look down, afraid that if she saw no one was there that the feelings would stop.

Her thighs and stomach tightened. Tensing from head to toe, she met with release. A soft caress brushed her thigh, causing her to shiver in the aftermath. Gradually, she opened her eyes and looked down. She was alone in the bedroom.

Lydia took a deep breath, so numb she couldn’t move. Her heart beat so fast she was scared it would explode. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Oh, please let this dream end. I can’t do this. I can’t handle a man like Erik MacGregor.”

…

Erik!

Erik tensed, looking around the inside of his new mansion’s foyer. He’d been trying to reason what happened with Lydia when he heard the sound of her voice echoing in his mind. Scanning the darkened corners, he found their empty shadows staring back at him.

The soft cry washed over him again and he licked his lips, tasting the unmistakable flavor of a woman’s desire in his mouth. Even as it made his body jolt with perfect sexual awareness and torture, he couldn’t help the satisfied grin that crossed his features. Lydia was fantasizing about him.

“Soon,
leannáin,
very soon.”

…

Lydia stared at the mess of lotion that covered her kitchen. It glopped down the walls, over the floor, covering both her and Charlotte. The scent of lilies filled the air, heavy and unmistakable. For a long time, she didn’t move. After the last four days filled with clumsy accidents, she was hardly surprised the thing exploded.

“What just happened?” Charlotte asked, her eyes wide. “How does a vat of lotion just blow up like that?”

“I…” Lydia shivered. Her grandmother’s favorite scent was lilies.

“Gramma Annabelle?” Charlotte asked, as if reading her mind. She took a deep breath before covering her mouth and coughing.

“No, there has to be a reasonable explanation for this.” Lydia flung her hands, trying to shake off some of the mess. Splats of lotion rained onto the floor around her. “Something logical. Something that is not my dead grandmother sending messages from beyond the grave.”

“But she always said she’d come back if you needed her,” Charlotte insisted. Lydia knew Charlotte had always been a little more open to the possibilities Annabelle had talked about. “And, well, you’ve been moping about the house for days. Is something going on that you aren’t telling me about?”

“No, there’s nothing,” Lydia assured her. “I’m just overworked.”

“Feels like a warning from Gramma to me,” Charlotte said under her breath. “We didn’t put lily oil in the batch. It should smell like mint.”

“I was distracted. I could have grabbed the wrong scent.” Lydia doubted it, but the denial made her feel better.

“Uh-huh.” Charlotte picked up the mint oil and wiggled the nearly empty bottle, drawling sarcastically, “I’m sure that’s it.”

Just as Lydia was about to retort with another logical excuse, a knock sounded on the screen door. Both women jumped and yelped in surprise, turning to see who it was. Lydia’s heart flip-flopped in her chest. Erik eyed them, smiling, his brow quirked in amusement. He looked extraordinarily striking in his button down black shirt and faded blue jeans. The shirttails hung loose about his hips blowing in the wind, causing her gaze to drift downward.

“Afternoon, ladies. I’m not interrupting, am I?” His words caused her gaze to dart back to his face. Why was it she ogled him like some depraved addict whenever he was near? She purposefully looked away.

Lydia didn’t meet Charlotte’s eyes. She hadn’t told her friend what had happened that day in the mansion’s gardens. How could she? In fact, she’d not seen Erik since it happened either. Her face heated with embarrassment. Weakly, she waved him in. Erik acted like he was about to move and then paused, glancing around the door frame.

“Ya going to invite me in, love?” he asked.

Lydia frowned. Isn’t that what she just did with the universal hand gesture of “come on in”? Instead of repeating the offer, she said, “It’s a little messy in here right now—not really a good time.”

Charlotte made a weak noise, and Lydia could practically feel her friend’s determined look. Charlotte had spent every second since she’d met Erik telling Lydia how perfect it would be if they got together. The handsome Scotsman neighbor and the local business lady, sharing the same hill overlooking town, romancing it up in the very mansion that had captured Lydia’s girlhood fantasies.

If Charlotte only knew the half of it.

Oh, please, make him go away. This is too embarrassing.

“All right.” Erik lifted a bouquet of lavender. “I found a bunch of this on the property and thought ya may be able to use it.”

My lavender!

Lydia nodded weakly. He’d found her herb garden. She knew it might happen, but she’d hoped to be able to harvest and transplant the herbs to her own property before they saw it. It was just that the light and soil was so much better on his land than on hers. She’d already snuck onto his property the night before and had taken some of it back to her house. Since he’d bought the land, it was possible she’d have to buy her entire stock back from him now that he knew it was there. Or, maybe even have to pay to rent the small garden spot.

It was a sweet gesture, and Lydia could tell he was making an effort to be nice. She tried to smile, but it was hard with all the emotions rushing inside her. His expression seemed so open and kind, and also knee-weakeningly sexy. It was that last part that trapped her voice in her throat.

When she didn’t take the flowers, Erik hooked the bouquet into the handle of the screen door.

Charlotte made a louder noise and motioned at the door.

“Ah, thanks,” Lydia said. “That’s very kind of you.”

“There’s nothing kind about it,” he answered. “I’m lonely and it’s a bribe to get ya to go out with me tonight.”

Lydia’s face colored. So what? He doesn’t bother trying to talk to her for four days after what happened and now suddenly he wants a date? Sure, she knew what he wanted from her. He didn’t want a date. He wanted them to finish what they’d started.

Could she really blame him for thinking she was a slut?

Could he really blame her for how pissed his assumption was making her?

“What I mean is, I’m new in town,” he amended a little inelegantly.

Was he nervous? Maybe he wasn’t just looking for a good time, but an honest date. Still, how could a man that looked like he did be nervous asking a woman out—especially a woman doused in lotion and not looking her exact best?

“Say you’ll go out with me,” he insisted. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Please?”

“No, thank you, Mr. MacGregor. I don’t date.” Lydia felt like a fool. It was hard to look dignified when lotion stuck her shirt to her chest and plastered her hair to the side of her face. Thankfully, she wore a bra this time. That was something at least. Glancing down, she saw it didn’t matter. Her shirt and bra were thin and she swore she saw the darker outlines of her nipples through the lotion-soaked material. She made a move to pull some towels from a drawer, dismissing him.

“She’s free at eight,” Charlotte said loudly.

“Great, I’ll pick ya up at eight,” Erik announced. “And we’ll not call it a date.”

Lydia gasped, spinning on her heels to face him. He was gone.

“So, nothing happened the other day, eh?” Charlotte chuckled.

“There’s your warning from Gramma,” Lydia said. “She’s telling me to stay away.”

“Annabelle would never tell you to stay away from a sexy piece of manmeat. She probably wanted to give you that wet T-shirt look before he got here.” Charlotte laughed harder as Lydia pressed a towel to her chest. “So want to tell me the truth this time about what happened between you two on the garden walk? Or do I need to run after Mr. MacGregor and hear it from him?”

“No,” Lydia grumbled, throwing a towel at her friend’s head. She experienced a moment of satisfaction as it hit Charlotte’s face. “I’ll tell you, but I don’t want to. I only come out looking bad.”

…

“Mm, didn’t go so well, eh?”

Erik glared at Euann, but his brother merely smirked. Women seemed to think Euann looked like a thirty year old Latin movie star. Erik didn’t see it. For one thing, he was a Scotsman—though how Euann could call himself part of the MacGregor clan and hate golf was beyond all of them. For another, he was just Euann—the pesky second oldest son of Angus and Margareta MacGregor and a pain in his older brother’s ass.

“Ya do not have to look so smug,” Erik grumbled. “I’m picking her up at eight.”

Euann stretched on the dusty chair they’d uncovered in the downstairs library, his grin widening. Erik wondered why Euann hadn’t started cleaning yet. “Would that be at sword point, brother? She didn’t sound too willing to me.”

“Ya were listening?” Erik growled. Euann’s snicker of amusement was answer enough. “Where is it?”

Euann motioned to his neck. Erik frowned and searched under his collar, coming out with a small listening device no bigger than a ladybug. He flicked it at Euann, who jumped up, caught it and cradled it in his hand.

“Eh, now, that little thing cost me a pretty penny,” Euann protested.

“Keep it off me, or else it’ll be a squished penny, ya hear me?”

Euann grumbled, not looking at all sorry as he studied his little gadget. “Would ya mind giving me the one in your hair as well, then? I do not want anything to happen to it.”

Erik grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair, felt a tiny snag and yanked it out, taking a few strands with it. He flung it at Euann with a look of warning.

“Ah, I couldn’t help it. Ya have been languishing about this place ever since I got here. I wanted to know what she was like, that’s all.”

“I have not been languishing,” Erik denied. “My energies have been drained.”

“Masturbating too much will do that.” Euann nodded, trying to act serious but unable to hide his grin.

“I have not been masturbating,” Erik denied with a growl.

Euann’s grin widened, and he arched a disbelieving brow.

“Too much,” Erik corrected, making his statement believable. “Ah, shut your mouth, little brother. Ya want to know what has happened? Lydia’s my
inthrall
.”

“No,” Euann gasped, sitting forward. The smirk finally faded from his expression.