Tug of Attraction (16 page)

Ethan leaned against the doorframe wiping tears from his eyes. “Sorry. They didn’t mention a mirrored ceiling in the brochure. Never in all my years as a bachelor have I ever...” He couldn’t continue and just dissolved into chuckles.

She clasped her hands around his waist. “It’s okay. I know a lot of women have body issues and would freak out, but I’ll be fine. I was leered at enough in Hollywood to become immune.”

He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I wasn’t worried about
your
body image. Not sure I want to stare at mine though.”

“Ethan Cox. You’re not critical of your body, are you?”

“Not usually.” He stared up at the ceiling where the two of them were staring back down. “I’ve never been on display though.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve probably been to a gym, haven’t you?”

“Not really.”

“You’ve never worked out?”

“I don’t need to. My life is a work-out.”

“Sheesh. The way you practically bench-pressed me over the threshold...”

He laughed. “Cut it out. Look, I can deal. I’ll just have to be on top all the time.”

Her jaw dropped and he grinned. “I’m kidding.”

Brigit slapped his arm, then realized she was no longer self-conscious. The laughter was just what she had needed to calm her nerves.

She took his hand and pulled him over to the bed. “Why don’t we try it out?”

“Now? I thought you wanted to unpack.”

She reached for his zipper, and said, “Yeah. Let’s unpack.” When she freed him from the prison of his jeans. “And you’re ‘packing’ plenty. Looks like you’re ready to go.”

“At a moment’s notice, sweetheart.”

Wow.

“I can wait, though. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a relaxing bath first?” he offered.

“Hmmm...it’s tempting. I’m afraid we might drown in that tub though. It looks almost big enough to do laps.”

“The day I drown in anything is the day I should hang up my captain’s hat.”

He was unbuttoning her sweater and before she realized it, she was raising her arms and he was stripping off both the sweater and jersey beneath at the same time. 

When she was down to her black bra and jeans, she tugged his shirt over his head. A moment later all their clothes lay in a heap on the floor.

He leaned over and angled his head to kiss her. She cupped the back of his head and pulled him in. Their mouths met and opened to each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their tongues stroked and swirled.

She didn’t even realize she had left the floor until he was placing her in the center of the round bed. He followed her down and the two of them caressed each other.

The first time they’d made love, she had been nervous. He’d done so much to make her feel relaxed and comfortable, but it still took a while to get swept away. Not this time. She knew Ethan would be gentle and gave herself over to him easily.

He kneaded one of her breasts and bent down to suckle the other one. The glorious sensations made her arch and moan. She grasped his cock and stroked it fervently. Suddenly she wanted to ratchet it up a notch. She would have to be the one to initiate it, because he wouldn’t push her. 

She broke his hold on her and scooted down to eye-level with his cock.

“Where are you—”

She took him in as far as she could, then sucked hard as she withdrew.

“Oh! You don’t—have to—” His words turned into a moan. She’d never been so happy to give a man pleasure before. 

“Wow,” was all he said when she finally finished. He loomed over her and seemed at a loss for a moment. “I’ve done some research on endo. I read that there are positions that might be more comfortable for you.”

Oh no.
Tears were threatening to spill. She felt the familiar burn at the back of her eyes. Taking a deep breath and willing them away, she hung onto him for a while. By the time Ethan kissed her, she was almost herself again—almost.

What were the tears about? Was she feeling sorry for herself, because most women could enjoy sex to their heart’s content? Or was she touched by Ethan’s sympathy? It was just like a man to try to solve the problem, and so far surgery—a laparoscopy, had been the only treatment suggested by her male gynecologists. Although the last one suggested she try to get pregnant the natural way for at least six months to a year. If it didn’t happen, she might be one of the thirty to forty percent of women with endometriosis who are sterile.
Then
she could undergo surgery and see if it would improve her chances.

Her thoughts faded as she reveled in the feel of Ethan’s lips on hers. One of his arms was pinned beneath her, but his free hand was cupping her breast and testing its weight. When he bent over and gently suckled her, she moaned in appreciation. She’d been manhandled in the past and practically had to kick a guy in the head to get him to stop what he was doing.

She’d never have thought Ethan, a rough and tumble seaman, could be so gentle. She knew it was for her benefit. To be honest, she’d figured he’d just plant the seed missionary style and return to more adventurous girls.

He leaned away and said, “Roll up onto your knees.”

“Huh?”

“On your knees. We’re doing this doggy style.”

“Is this because of the mirrors?”

He laughed. “No. I heard that this might be one of the more comfortable positions for women with endometriosis. Don’t worry. I’ll give you a reach-around.” He winked.

“Oh!” Why were men so obsessed with her orgasm? Reading historical romance novels had taught that men didn’t usually care about pleasuring their women. Maybe she was born in the wrong century.
Well, I guess there’s nothing to lose.

Brigit rolled up onto her knees and heard something pop behind her. She peered over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Lube.” He held up a bottle briefly, and then she felt his fingers invade her opening.

“Oh. I’m not wet enough?”

“I didn’t really check. I thought this might help if you weren’t.”

Again, all she could think of to say was, “Oh.”

He held onto her waist and something prodded her opening. At last he slid into her channel slowly.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Perfect,” she said. And she meant it. For her, this was as perfect as it could get. Unless...

He leaned over her and touched her most sensitive flesh. “Oh!” She really had to stop using that word. Then words failed her altogether and she moaned—repeatedly. She imagined Ethan smiling, briefly, then she was back to not thinking at all.

“Oh, Goddess,” she mumbled. An incredible feeling swept her along. She imagined herself caught in an undertow, but at any time she could pull away. She didn’t feel like testing that theory. Ethan would stop immediately and she felt so good, she didn’t want him to stop.

She thought Ethan might say something, but he was either concentrating on his own phenomenon or giving her the space to do what she wanted. And she wanted more of that incredible feeling. 

Suddenly the build-up grew exponentially. She knew there was something wonderful waiting—or possibly wonderful and then painful, but she’d never know if she didn’t follow through. 

The orgasm started slowly and built to a crescendo. Ethan seemed aware of what was happening, but he held onto her and continued. She bucked and let out some sounds she’d never made before. How odd. How beautiful. How was this so natural and yet new to her?

Her body was vibrating. Finally, the sensation faded and she collapsed onto the mattress. Ethan followed her down, but didn’t put his whole weight on her. She laid there gasping and he swept her hair to one side.

Between kisses on her neck, he murmured. “Good?”

She giggled. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

He kissed her cheek and then withdrew and lay on his side.

She rolled up onto her side facing him. Wondering if he’d experienced his own pleasure, she asked, “Did you, ummm...”

“Come?” He chuckled. “Oh, yeah.”

Whew.
“Good. I’d hate to just take my gratification and not give anything back.” Now she understood why men wanted to share the satisfaction.

He grinned. “You were...fulfilled?”

“Absolutely.”

He leaned in to kiss her, and she gladly met his lips halfway.

* * * *

K
eith had been having an attack of conscience ever since Samhain. He strode into the hotel where Hanna worked. He was wearing black street clothes, not his usual drag get-up, and hoped she’d recognize him.

He spotted her behind the front desk, wearing a blue suit. She was talking to a couple of other suited employees
. Talk about not recognizing someone
. He had to remind himself of her real name and use his in this public place. Hopefully she’d remember
Raven
was actually
Keith
.

One of the other employees spotted him first. “Are you here to check in, Sir?”

Sir? I haven’t been called that in a while.
“No. I came to see Han—uh, Hazel. Miss Meriwether.”

Hanna looked up and surprise registered on her face. “Keith. How nice to see you. Were you just in the neighborhood?”

“No. Can I have a moment of your time?”

“I’ll be right with you. Have a seat by my desk.” She pointed to a small, but expensive looking mahogany antique.  The polished surface practically glowed. Or maybe it wasn’t polish, but magic instead. He knew the woman’s talent went far beyond his.

In a few minutes she joined him there, but instead of sitting behind her desk, she sat in the chair beside his. She leaned in and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

He figured he should just get to the point and said, “You wanted to know if any of us knew where Michele was. I—I had promised not to say anything, but...Is your finding her really that important?”

“It’s critical.”

From the total lack of hesitation on her part, he believed her. “How do I know if your reason for finding her is more important than her need to disappear?”

Hanna chewed her lip for a moment. At last she said, “If I trust you with this information, you have to promise to keep it to yourself. I mean, tell no one—not even another coven member.”

Shit just got real.
“I promise.” He’d have said anything to know what the hell was so dire.

“We should probably speak somewhere more private.” She checked her watch. “It’s almost lunchtime. I’ll just wrap up a couple of things, tell the desk I’m in my suite and meet you there.”

“Okay. See you in a few,” he said and headed to the elevator.

#

H
anna quickly told her staff she was taking an early lunch, then peeked around the corner to see which elevator Raven had taken. “There’s nothing like a good demonstration to prove the impossible,” she muttered under her breath. “Here goes nuthin’...” She found a deserted spot and transported herself into the elevator with him.

“Shit!” He recoiled and hit the back wall. “What the...”

Hanna quickly showed him her most sympathetic smile to let him know she meant no harm. “Sorry about that. I thought it would be easier to explain things if I showed you what’s at stake.”

“I...” For once, her most outspoken coven member was at a loss for words and just shook his head hard as if to clear it.

When they reached the top floor, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Hanna stepped aside so Raven could exit first. If she led the way, he might just close the doors and push the down button.

He swallowed hard and waited for her. His wide-eyed stare was beginning to fade, so she hoped that he was adjusting. Supernatural powers were a lot to absorb, even for those who believed in the power of magic.

When they reached her suite, she waved her hand and the door opened.

“Holy fuck,” Raven muttered. He seemed reluctant to enter so Hanna went in first and held the door open for him.

He inhaled deeply and walked over to her couch. “I need to sit down.”

“Please. Make yourself comfortable,” she said. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Uh, sure. If you don’t have anything stronger.”

“What would you like?” she asked.

“Bourbon, if you have it.”

“Straight up?”

“Please.”

She snapped her fingers and the drink appeared on the coffee table.

He jumped. “Can you stop doing that?”

“Of course. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“If?” He grabbed the glass of liquor and took a fortifying swig.

She sat in the armchair next to the couch and made herself comfortable. “You said you knew something about Michele’s whereabouts.”

“Not where she is, but how she got there.”

Hanna waited for him to take another sip of his drink.

“I gave her my old car when I bought a new one.”

Hanna sat up straight. “So we know what she’s driving. That could be a big help.”

Raven looked dismayed. “I doubt she’s driving it any more. I told her to sell it after she got to wherever she was going. I figured she’d need the money.”

Hanna sighed.
Finding that car might put us in the right area.
“It was nice of you to help her. Can you tell me anything else? No detail is too insignificant.”

“Well. She wouldn’t put her name on the title. I signed it and she said she’d put the new owner’s information on it later.”

“Hmmm...” Hanna wasn’t giving up. “Do you have the VIN number? The new owner would need that for registration.”

“Yeah. I took my old registrations out of the glove box and just left the current one in there. I should have it somewhere.”

Eureka!

“What does this have to do with your—demonstration?”

“There’s an ancient artifact that gave me—and a few others—our supernatural powers. It’s been lost. We think Michele might be able to find it. She has some kind of connection to the object that none of the rest of us have.”

“Are you telling me a powerful witch like you can’t find it with a locator spell?”

Hanna frowned. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s as if the item has protected itself from falling into the wrong hands.”

“Do you mind if I ask what the item is?”

Hanna wrestled with how much she should tell him. Was he ready to use the grail if he found it first? Her gut told her she needed a few more months with him.