Bedspell. Jule McBride
Still blinking sleep from his eyes, James scratched his chest. “Since you’re up,” he murmured throatily, “why don’t you switch on the light? It’s by the door.” He’d love to get a look at her.
There was a long silence. For a second, he could almost imagine that the woman had disappeared. Or that he’d been dreaming, after all. But no…she giggled again. Just the sound was enough to make him smile. It was a giddy, high-pitched schoolgirl’s giggle, and it didn’t take a state trooper with a Breathalyzer to figure out that she’d imbibed plenty of herbal-root punch.
“I like the dark,” she whispered.
“The dark’s good,” he conceded. Yeah. It had to be the blonde. Who else would come into his cabin this way?
“And it is very, very dark in here,” she slurred. When her voice hitched with excitement, it seemed clear that having sex with him was high on her list of priorities, which was fine with him. There was nothing James loved more than being on a woman’s “to-do” list.
His eyes narrowed. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Why?”
“Because as tempting as you are, I’d draw the line if you’re about to do something you might not do stone cold sober.”
She hiccoughed loudly. “What a gentlemen.”
“Not really. But I do like a consenting partner.”
Her voice turned reedy, catching with promise. “So, you want me to consent?”
“Yeah.”
“I do, gorgeous,” she murmured solemnly.
For a second, everything went silent, as if the room itself had suddenly inhaled a sharp breath. Yes, this cinched it. Sex was on her agenda. The heat in James’s veins started localizing, pooling in his belly, teasing his groin and making him strangely conscious of the hairs on his bare legs, then the tingling between them.
Half asleep, he remembered how she’d looked earlier when she’d gotten out of her car to ask directions. Her short silken hair had been the color of freshly harvested wheat, and it had lifted with the breeze, while the strong sunlight had done wonders for the rest of her, outlining her nipped-in waist and the gentle flare of her hips. She had sweet, enticing slopes of breasts, and each time she’d moved, rays of light had shined through her blouse, looking like fingers caressing her as the breeze ruffled the fabric. As he sucked a breath through his teeth, James’s mouth dried. When he’d gotten into bed tonight, getting lucky had been the last thing on his mind….
He waited for her to make another move.
Every month, these wild women came tearing into the park, their engines roaring, shouting ribald comments and tossing back drinks like sailors. The next morning, they were always hungover. Usually, they decamped as quietly as church mice, as if something so much as turning on the car radio might make their heads explode. They always left, swallowing down aspirin and leaving a wake of lost clothes in the woods. James kept a finders-keepers bin of bras and panties in the main office, but so far, no one had shown up to claim them. This was the first time a witch had actually propositioned him. He couldn’t have felt more beguiled.
She was still paused at the edge of the bed.
If he’d known she was coming, he would have changed the sheets, but seeing as it was too late, he tossed back the covers, feeling a sleepy stir of air hit his naked body. “Abracadabra,” he said, “c’mon in.”
Another giggle sounded.
In the darkness, he couldn’t see so much as an outline of her body, so he only sensed it when she leaned forward. “Hocus pocus,” she teased. As her splayed hand hit the mattress, a water droplet splashed his face.
“You’re one wet witch,” he said.
And then she stumbled. Uttering a barely audible gasp of surprise, she lurched headlong on top of him. If he hadn’t reached instinctively and looped his arm around her waist, she would have gone over the other side. As it was, one hand caught her hip, and the other, her arm. Settling her on top of him, it was his turn to gasp.
She was naked. Clammy. She sucked in a breath and murmured, “I’m so sorry,” but she didn’t really sound sorry about crashing into him. He wasn’t the least bit sorry, either. She said, “I’m wet and cold.”
“We’ll have to warm you up.”
Every lake-drenched inch of her was searing into him. “You’ve been swimming,” he said, his voice lowering seductively. He couldn’t believe that this sexy woman was right on top of him, her breasts cushioning the hard muscles of his chest, the sweet, taut tips of her nipples nestled down in his chest hairs. Her belly was molding to his. And below…
Crisp hairs brushed his thighs, teased the space right below where he most wanted to feel her. The tantalizing crush of her pelvic bone threatened to destroy any shred of reason. James had no idea what he’d done to deserve this midnight gift, but it must have been something good. Probably giving all those kitty-cats homes. Silently, he thanked the goddess to whom these women always seemed to pray. His next shaky breath hit the air, sounding like a whistle.
“I was swimming naked, gorgeous,” she clarified.
“Sorry I missed seeing you.” Just imagining moonlight dancing on her skin was enough to give him another shove toward the edge of sanity.
Her chortling laughter came again. “You don’t mind?”
“That you were swimming? Or that you were naked?”
“That I was naked in the park.”
Did she think he’d really assert his authority as a ranger and arrest her? “Not in the least,” he assured her.
Feeling her body move against his gave him the slightest pause. Earlier, at the ranger’s station, he’d thought she was a larger woman, taller and with fuller breasts, but then sundresses could be deceiving, and the airy fabric had swirled around her legs, nearly reaching her ankles. Maybe that had made her look taller. Now he realized she was just a wisp of a woman. Five-five at the most. Had she been wearing high-heeled sandals? He squinted, thinking back to their meeting, trying to remember, but he couldn’t….
And then he wasn’t even trying. He couldn’t think at all. Her mouth came closer; soft pants of breath that smelled like sassafras teased the rim of his ear, and then the enticing moist, pointed tip of her tongue wetted a spot…right before she blew on it. He shuddered. Unable to take her teasing, he lowered his hands on her back, gliding them downward on either side of the most delicate spine he’d ever felt, until he hit her silken backside.
“No panties,” he whispered.
“You don’t have any panties on, either, gorgeous,” she whispered, laughing with another burst of pure hilarity.
He sure didn’t. Her splayed hands thrust into his hair, and when he reached up to touch her short locks, he realized they were as wet as the rest of her. As droplets fell from her skin onto his, they heated right up, sizzling as if they were oil hitting a griddle. When her mouth touched his, he knew he was moments from losing the last vestiges of male control. Not that he cared about hanging on to it. He was as hard as a rock, and her slick, waiting heat was calling to him like a siren’s song.
“I’m not really a witch,” she confessed raspily.
“Could have fooled me.”
Thrusting his hands from her nape, up into her hair, he stopped talking and drank in her kiss…deeply…more deeply. The softest lips he’d ever plundered parted under the pressure, and she opened for him, her tongue darting outward and sliding against his. An involuntary moan was wrenched from somewhere deep inside his chest, as if it had been buried there, hidden and lodged inside him for his whole lifetime—until this very moment, when this witchy woman pulled it out.
His mind blanked. He could barely believe this