SweetlyBad (11 page)

No matter how many witches waited, the police weren’t the
answer. They were no match for members of the Underground, who could disable
bullets with the flick of a wrist. “No police.”

Erica’s eyebrows drew down into a narrow V. Her voice went
low. “I don’t care if these people are like the mafia. We need help.”

“I can fix this.”

First things first.

Drew crouched beside the witch, lifting her head so he could
see her face. She looked vaguely familiar, as most female witches in New
Hampshire did. This could be a former lover or merely someone he’d met in
passing. His memory wasn’t good when it came to the majority of the fleeting
affairs he’d had.

He patted her down, looking for two things—identification
and a key to Erica’s cuffs. He found the key in her right front pocket.

“Did she tell you who she was?” he asked as he worked the
small key into the lock.

“You don’t recognize her?”

He lifted his gaze, meeting hers. There was an accusation in
her mocha irises. One he couldn’t refute. “No.”

Erica’s nostrils flared as the censure darkened her eyes.
“She implied you’d…been together.”

“I’ve been with many women.” The icy, callous answer of a
playboy.

She’d already made her mind up about him. It was in her
reproachful glare and the way she was shocked every time he appeared. Shame
made him drop his gaze—shame that he’d considered leaving her here to save his
hide.

He glanced at the downed witch and swallowed a sick laugh.
Erica hadn’t needed him. If she’d had a phone in her pocket or one at hand,
she’d have summoned the police to her and been free. Erica was self-sufficient.

He envied that about her. Aer, he envied just about
everything about her. She didn’t have a grand estate like Haizea House, a
supercar or millions of dollars but she was happier than he’d ever been.

“And you don’t remember any of them?” she said despite
knowing the answer.

“I recall a few memorable women.” He caught her eye,
implying
she
was one who stuck in memory. “But largely, no. None have
made an impression on me.”

Until now.

He’d always thought being poor was his biggest fear. Now he
knew otherwise. Rejection terrified him. The fear sent him from woman to woman,
always leaving before they had a chance to discover he was a spineless dullard
living off his family’s wealth.

The cuffs he struggled with reminded him of what his
lifestyle had cost him. The wealth he’d taken for granted was gone. He had no
true friends. He was estranged from his family. And the one person who had
helped him even though he’d had nothing to give her had been attacked. Drew was
responsible for all of that.

He didn’t want to be spineless any longer. And he wasn’t
stupid. He was lazy.

But no more.

None have made an impression on me
—the statement
echoed in Erica’s mind.

That
ass
. Drew had used her tow truck without paying
for it. Slept on her cot. Screwed her on the thing—destroying it in the
process. He’d eaten her food, drank her soda and gotten her tangled up with the
mob
. But she hadn’t made an
impression
on him?

He clicked the key in the lock. The cuffs snapped open.
Erica pulled her wrists free. She rubbed her stinging skin for a pair of
seconds.

Drew turned his back on her, striding for the counter. She
followed close behind. Exactly as she’d expected, his hand closed over her
cordless phone. He flipped it over and began hitting numbers.

Erica closed her fingers, tightening them into a fist as she
inhaled. “Drew.”

He turned, eyebrows lifted in question.

Her right hook caught him in the jaw. The resounding crack
echoed against the pressed concrete wall and glass windows. Drew stumbled back,
slamming his side on the counter.

“How’s
that
for an impression, you asshole?”

Erica’s knuckles stung like hell but her pride felt better.
She strode for the backroom, where she’d dropped her purse and keys. Behind her
Drew released a sound rather like a whimper.

She didn’t care. He deserved that. And he was no longer her
problem.

He stood at the office door when she emerged with her
things. Drew gripped his left side as though it pained him.

She
didn’t
care.

Erica forced her eyes forward. “I’m going home. You, that
bitch who attacked me and your car had better be gone by the time I open on
Monday or I’m calling the police and sending them after
you
.”

“Erica,” he called after her.

His pitiful choke tested her resolve. What if he’d broken a
rib when he hit the counter? Could he die from that sort of injury? Should she
offer to take him to the ER?

What was
wrong
with her?

She stomped the remainder of the way to the car, uncaring
that the garage door was wide open. He’d managed to get it open without a key.
He could close it without one.

“Erica.”

She clomped
faster
.

Drew caught her shoulder. Erica swung out with her free arm
but caught nothing but air. Damn his quick dodge.

The grim set of his features didn’t bode well as he stepped
forward, invading her personal space without releasing his grip. She tugged
backward, desperate to avoid him and whatever that expression threatened. He
slipped his hand behind her neck. She resisted his pull both physically and
mentally.

His mouth descended on hers before she could evade. It
wasn’t soft, gentle or even teasing like she’d taught him. It was brutal and
demanding, a kiss to rob her of everything but the blood pounding through her
veins. Smooth lips worked over hers even as he thrust his tongue into her
mouth, devouring her as though he were starved. It was a passionate kiss,
nothing like the boyish slobber he’d first given her.

Drew crushed her body to his. An obvious erection pressed at
her belly. He groaned deep in his chest and tore his mouth from hers. She
barely kept from whimpering from the loss of it.

“You made an impression, Erica.” The husky declaration was
almost believable.

“With my fis—”

He gripped her cheeks, forcing her to look him in the eye.
“You
made
an impression without even touching me—the only impression
I’ve ever had and it scares the fuck out of me.”

“But I’m not your type.”

“You
are
my type—the type I’ve never let myself have
because I thought I was supposed to want something else. But you, you’re what I
want—what I need.” He tilted his pelvis, grinding his cock against the moist
heat her jeans hid. Drew buried his head in her bodice, mumbling, “I want to
fuck you…right here.”

Erica only then realized where
here
was. “No. This is
the parking lot of my business! Anyone could drive by. That’s the main road
into town! Besides, there’s a bitch in the garage you still need to deal with.”

Drew slumped against her. “But I’d much rather show you how
much of an impression you’ve made on me.”

The erection he rubbed along the seam in her jeans implied
she might have made a temporary impression. She wasn’t willing to believe
anything more than that. Too many signs pointed to the guy being incorrigible.

She dug her fingers into his hair, hauling him back by it.
“The bitch in my garage, Drew.
And
her two friends waiting for you
outside town. You’re not getting anything else until that’s dealt with.”

He exhaled grumpily.

“If you’d just let me call the sheriff—”

“No,” Drew snapped and straightened upright. “I’ll deal with
it.”

“Like you dealt with the last guy?” she called after his
retreating figure.

“Yes.” He reached the edge of the garage and halted. “Fuck.”

Erica stilled as well. “What?”

“Get in your car, Erica,” he said in a low tone without
turning. “Drive home. Better yet, go to your sister’s.”

“What? Why?”

“Because the bitch you knocked unconscious disappeared. Now
go
.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” She stalked across the parking lot
in a righteous huff. “I’m the one who knocked her unconscious. And I’m also
responsible for saving you from the
last
guy who attacked you. You
need—”

Drew grabbed hold of her forearm. “If she’s missing then
she’s alerted her friends of my whereabouts. There will be
three
of
them. I need you to go somewhere safe.”

Erica wildly shook her head. “If there are three of them
then you need me here. Two against three is way better odds than one against
three.”

“You
can’t
help—”

“I’m not leaving you, Drew.”

How dare he try to take on the hero role now? She’d done the
saving. She’d more than shown she could hold her own. The stubborn Neanderthal
needed
her.

But rather than shout any of that, she heard herself
exclaim, “I’ll never be able to live with myself if I go and something happens
to you.”

His mouth came down over hers, hard and twice as needy as
the last kiss. They were panting when he tugged away. “And I’ll never be able
to live with myself if you stay and something happens to
you
. This is my
fight. These are my people. Please, Erica, just go.”

“I’m not afraid of the mob. I can help—”

“You
can’t
help,” he burst out in frustration. “This
isn’t the mob. They’re not
human
! Your punches aren’t going to stop them
from hurting you. They don’t need to get close to do harm.”

She stared at the agitated clenching of his fists and
reddened wrinkles on his forehead. His words had been clear. When she should
have scoffed at him for speaking the ridiculous, she instead discovered the
explanation for why fanciful things had begun occurring when he turned up.

Now she understood how he’d managed to get into her locked
garage, to knock Jared on his ass with only a look and to travel six miles on
foot in less than fifteen minutes.

These were his people. They weren’t human.
He
wasn’t
human.

“
Fuck,” Drew said once again
when Erica’s skin went ashen.

He hadn’t meant her to find out this way. There was no
taking it back now. And there wasn’t time. Three witches were on their way. He
didn’t know what flavor they were—had no idea how to defend against them. Even
if they were Air witches as he suspected, it had been ages since he’d had to
flex his magical muscles. He wasn’t sure he could save himself let alone both
of them.

“Please. Go where you’ll be safe. They only want me.”

Her chin rose. That was not a good sign.

“I’m a witness,” she said stubbornly. “Even if they’re not
the mob, I’m sure they won’t want to leave any loose ends dangling. They’ll
come looking for me.”

“Someone might. But it won’t be to hurt you. They’ll only
make you forget what you saw.”

“You can
do
that?”

“
I
can’t. But there are those who can.” He thrust a
hand through his hair. These were things she couldn’t know. Yet he wanted her
to. He wanted a reason to linger in the two-bar town with her.

First he needed to deal with the three witches. If he were a
Water witch, he could force Erica to leave. But he wasn’t and she was too
stubborn to see reason.

“I need to use your phone,” he said on his way to the
office. “If you insist on staying, I wish you’d hide in the backroom.”

“
Hide?
”

He flinched at her lifted pitch.

Erica stomped behind him. “These people might not be human
but I still held my own against them.”

She had. There was no doubt about that.

“The female will be wary of you now,” he said. “She’ll warn
her companions. You’re not going to have the element of surprise.”

“No, but I have Pearce Auto-body.”

“There’s a chance I can end this but I need to use your
phone.” He punched in the numbers to his mother.

Erica had gone quiet. He swung back, checking what she was
up to. She rooted around in a large cabinet against the wall and then
disappeared behind the pickup truck.

“Hello.” His matriarch’s voice captured his attention.

“Three witches are here in Stoddard trying to kill me,” he
said. “One kidnapped my mechanic.”

“I had no idea how imaginative you were, Andrew.” Amanda’s
drawl was pure condescension. “If you’d been half this creative growing up, you
might have found something better to do with your time than diddle every girl
who caught your eye.”

He ground his teeth. Creativity had never been his failing.
Patience and follow-through were. By Aer, he’d follow through with this if it
killed him.

“Please remove my rogue designation, Mother.”

“No one is trying to kill you. As I’ve said, I’ll remove the
designation when you’ve turned your life around.”

“I’m not going to
have
a life to turn around if you
don’t call off the designation!”

Amanda exhaled wearily. “No witch would dare hunt a Haizea.
They wouldn’t go against me.”

“Thirty years ago that might have been the case. Your esteem
is gone now that Sean is weeks from becoming high priest.” He continued even
though her sharp breath implied he’d gone too far when he used her nemesis’s
name. “You are a joke and you’re going to be a joke with one less son if you
don’t
fix
this!”

“
I’m
a joke?” Each word was punctuated with icy
enunciation. “How dare you! You haven’t worked a day in your life. You don’t
know what the world is truly like.
You
are the joke, Andrew. The
designation stays until that changes.”

Panic flooded his organs. Amanda was sentencing him to death
because her pride wouldn’t allow her to see the truth. While his life was
precious to him, his primary concern was for the obstinate mechanic who refused
to go home.

“I’ll turn my life around,” he said. “Keep the money and my
accounts frozen. I won’t come back to Manchester. I swear it. Just remove the
designation, Mother. Please.”

Her voice was stony like the granite their state was famous
for. “You will remain rogue until you prove you’re worthy of being a Haizea.”

Nausea burned his stomach. He was screwed and that meant
Erica was screwed too. Drew let out a sick laugh. “If you’re the example of how
a Haizea should be, then I hope I never prove I’m worthy.”

This time he hung up on her.

His hands shook with fury as he set the phone on the
counter. Erica and he were sitting ducks here. If she wouldn’t leave him then
he’d simply have to leave her.

He walked to the door between the rooms and gazed across the
space to where she stood behind the pickup truck, working with a large piece of
pipe. Her hair was a sweaty mess, her tank top askew and her jeans sported a
large oil stain on her rear.

He’d never wanted to fuck a woman as badly as he wanted her
in that moment.

The right thing would be to walk out and never see her
again.

But Drew had never done the right thing. He wasn’t about to
start with this.

The payload would stun but not kill. Erica hoped. Nuts and
bolts would work, wouldn’t they? If not, she had a plan for other things.

A shoe scuffing against the concrete sent a shot of fear
down her back. Her pulse quickened.

Had they arrived? How long would it take that woman to meet
up with her cohorts?

Erica whirled around and found Drew at the front of the
garage. She pressed her chest, willing her heart to settle.

“Don’t go out there,” she said. “I’ve…set a few things.”

Oil and a creeper. He’d slip on them if he weren’t careful.

Drew stepped between the vehicles and started for the back,
where she worked on her makeshift air canon. Erica hesitated in her next
action. She’d seen that look in his eye before. He wasn’t thinking about
fighting. He was thinking about sex.

Now?
When three…not-humans were due any minute and
she was a stinking
mess
, Drew wanted sex? The man really was
incorrigible.

He slowed in front of her. That intense expression flickered
as he glanced at the pipe she held.

“It’s—”

“Shhh.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “My kind have
tricks for hearing things better than vanilla humans.”

His
kind. It was wild to think he wasn’t like her.

Drew rubbed his finger along her lip, wiping away the moisture
from her nervous licks. Tingles wiggled down her shoulders. Her nipples
hardened beneath her satin bra.

Not
the time.

Erica dropped her chin toward the pipe. She waved his
attention toward it so she could mime her intentions. Her pantomime lasted two
seconds. He gave a nod as if he understood.

And then he hooked his thumb in her belt loop, dragging her
against his pelvis. Despite the bleak conversation she’d overheard in the
office, Drew’s erection was still hard and ready against her belly—or perhaps
it was
again
. His other hand slipped under her tank top. The rows of
hooks at the back of her bra didn’t deter him for long and then her breast sat
heavily in his palm. She bit her lip, quieting a moan.

He kissed her—a breathtaking embrace of palm to cheek and
tongue against tongue, as though he’d consume her essence. Yesterday it might
have been awkward. Today it was perfect.

He released her face though the kiss continued. One-handed,
he managed to unfasten the button on her skinny jeans. Erica gasped around his
tongue as he pushed the edges aside. Drew tugged the ribbed cotton tank top
over her breasts even as he delved his fingers beneath the zipper, slipping
them within her lace panties. He groaned, she assumed at the drenched folds
he’d discovered.

Yes, she wanted him. Even though he’d tried to make her
leave and even though it was his fault she was in danger, she wanted him so
badly her teeth ached. But it wasn’t the ache in her mouth that drove her to
grab the waistband to his slacks.

They desperately shoved at each other’s pants, kicking off
shoes as they went. She swallowed a whimper when he pulled back. Drew crouched,
fumbling with his garment. He tore something—a condom? One of his hands brushed
against her belly as if she’d guessed correctly.

Erica slipped her arms around Drew’s neck, pressing her
breasts to his chest. The rough fabric of his polo against her nipples sent
tiny arrows of pleasure to her pussy. She rubbed her throbbing clit along his
knuckles as they rolled the condom down his shaft. He moved them side-to-side,
teasing her to distraction.

Drew shifted, replacing his tormenting knuckles with his
sheathed organ. He stroked the stiff length against her slick skin.

He paused, staring into her eyes for a meaningful beat.

One swift thrust was her undoing. She collapsed against him,
letting him hold her when she should have been strong. But he felt too good
connected with her like this.

“Air,” he whispered against her mouth.

Though she didn’t know what that meant, she gave him some in
the form of a ragged exhale.

He pulled his hips back and nearly withdrew his cock
completely. Erica clung tighter. Drew eased forward until the rough clump of
hair at the base of his cock brushed against her clit. No sooner had her breath
caught from the bare caress did he slide away.

Eager for more, Erica slammed against him, setting a
feverish pace he quickly caught. Though they swallowed each other’s moans, the
slap of skin against skin left little doubt about what they were doing.

Drew lifted her off her feet, settling her against his lap
as if he’d found something to sit on. The Dodge’s bumper? Her bare feet found
the cold metal.

Erica smiled now that she had leverage.

Pleasure had been the driving force in Drew’s life until
yesterday. Now pleasure was bittersweet. It had finally happened—he’d found a
woman he needed. But his years of inveterate womanizing had caught up with him
and he couldn’t have her.

He shouldn’t take solace in Erica’s luscious body even for a
second. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to go without one last embrace. His
ever-vigilant hearing would be little warning if he lingered too long.

“Aer,” he croaked again as she took his cock inside her
slick heat.

Erica tossed her hair over her shoulders. Sweat-dampened
strands stuck to her arched neck. Her breasts glistened in the shop lights as
they bounced beneath her bunched tank top. Erica’s sweet buttercream odor, and
silky skin sliding along his, sent his senses into orbit.

Fantasies of waking with her in her big bed beneath the
crisp cotton sheets sneaked through his mind. More invaded of sitting in the
Shaker rocking chairs on her front porch with glasses of lemonade in hand and
of sultry nights spent lazily watching television. He would have laughed if his
mouth hadn’t been filled with hers. Wild fantasies should have featured in his
mind—of her taking his cock between her full lips or even of him going down on
her. But she made him want more.

She’s too good for you.

“Mmm,” she said on her next frantic slide down his shaft.

Drew’s eyes rolled from how fucking good she felt gripping
his cock, crushing her breasts against his chest and kissing him so fiercely he
could hardly breathe.

It hadn’t been this way this morning. On the cot, sex had
been business as usual. Something had changed. Dare he hope he wasn’t the only
one affected?

Erica quickened the pace, pumping up and down over his cock
as fast as her thick thighs would carry her. He marveled at her body—strength
and curves wrapped beneath silken skin. Her fist had more power in it than any
muscle on any of the anorexic women he usually fucked. In fact he’d be shocked
if his jaw didn’t swell up soon from her punch.

As magnificent as this was, it had gone on too long. The
witches were coming. He never should have done more than kiss her. But he
refused to have her last memory of him be an unsatisfied one.

Drew hauled her up and exchanged positions. She hissed at
the metal his skin hadn’t warmed. He dropped to his knees, spreading her thighs
wide against the truck’s bumper. She stared down at him, wide-eyed and
wordless. He’d have sent her a grin if he weren’t feeling so maudlin.

She froze as his tongue laved along her decadent folds.
Sugar and heat exploded across his taste buds while she moaned. Only Erica’s
pussy would
truly
taste like dessert. He pressed his eyes shut, drawing
in her buttercream-and-sweetness scent.

Erica’s tiny gasps at the flick of his tongue over her clit
drew on his dormant masculine pride. She clawed into his scalp, waking more
than pride. His balls tightened and hung heavily under his momentarily
forgotten cock.

Rather than tug on himself as his body demanded, Drew thrust
two fingers within her drenched core. She inhaled a sharp breath he promptly
stole with the tongue he coiled around her sensitive nub.

“Drew,” she pleaded.

He opened his eyes, taking in the vision of sensuality she
cut, glistening against the tailgate. Her heavy-lidded gaze held him in thrall
until she blinked, breaking the spell.

He finger-fucked her in ways his cock never could, finding
sensitive points that made her whimper and beg for release. She tugged at more
than his cock with her whispery sighs.

Without warning, Erica’s mouth opened in a silent scream.
Her inner muscles clamped down on his digits in waves that made his cock
shudder in sympathy. One of her hands flailed out, catching his organ in a
tight grip. Drew swallowed down fear that she’d hurt him again. But that wasn’t
fury in her dark eyes.

Twice, she slipped her calloused palm over his sensitive
head. Twice was all he needed. His teeth surged against his tense lips, biting
back a roar as he came in a mighty spurt in her hand.

He dropped his head to her thigh while he caught his breath.
The scent of sex and sugar was an aphrodisiac he didn’t need—not when he could
be ready again in a matter of seconds. Self-control had never been his gift and
he had a strong feeling he had none when it came to Erica.