The Witch's Seduction

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The chief craned his neck. “He’s around here somewhere. I saw him five minutes ago. Check in the conference room. I think he’s in there.”

“Sir.” A plainclothes officer stood beside his desk, waving the chief over, a phone pressed to one ear. “We got a call from the Third District. Got a situation going down.”

“Excuse me.” Chief Warner ducked around Deme. “Look in the conference room,” he repeated over his shoulder.

Adrenaline hopping, Deme stood in the middle of the room, wondering which way the conference room was.

“It’s in the far corner.” A man with shaggy sandy-blond hair pushed past her, carrying a jumble of wires and USB cables. He tipped his head to the rear of the room.

“Thanks.” Deme turned in that direction and wove her way through a maze of desks and people.

New to the department, she held her head high and pretended she belonged, although that was as far from what she felt as it could be. Starting over was hard. Running her own private investigations business in St. Croix had proven easy. Rich businessmen and desperate wives came to her. Deme had mastered the art of being low profile. To be a good investigator, you had to blend in. She’d done that well, pretending to be a tourist or local depending on the need.

Now, with nothing assigned, she stood out as the only person in the room without a pressing task. That would come soon enough. First she wanted to see Cal.

The conference room door stood open only enough for her to poke her head around.

A man and a woman stood in front of a large white board with pictures stuck to the surface with magnets and markings linking some of them to dates.

The man had longish dark hair and his back was to Deme. The woman’s arms laced around his neck, pressing his head down toward hers. From their stance Deme could only conclude that they were engaged in a lip-lock.

Deme ducked back out, heat rushing into her cheeks. Oops. Someone had taken an opportunity to sneak a little nookie on the job. She’d witnessed enough clandestine assignations during her stint as a private investigator. The amount of lying and cheating had hardened her to the idea of opening her heart to a man. Until Cal had come back into her life.

She moved on, hoping to find another conference room with Cal in it. There were other rooms, but they were smaller and empty. As she turned back to the large conference room where the couple was making out, a niggle of doubt pushed into her mind.

A beautiful raven-haired woman with ice-blue eyes emerged from the room.

Wow. She was gorgeous. She was almost too pretty, with her porcelain skin, deep red lips and a mass of long loose curls framing her face. Her gaze scanned the room, lighting briefly on Deme. With a dismissive rise of her brows she turned and headed for the elevator, moving like sex in motion.

Every male and some female gazes followed the woman until she disappeared around a corner.

Deme frowned. “Good grief.” She retraced her steps to the conference room, intent on asking the man the dark-haired woman had been kissing if he knew where Cal Black could be found.

When she stepped into the room, her heart skidded to a halt, her blood freezing in her veins. The man who’d been standing with his back to her the last time she’d entered the room turned to face her, his eyes glazed, a slight frown marring his handsome brow.

Calais Black. Her partner and her lover. Make that former lover.

“Deme?” He blinked and blinked again. A smile spread across his face and his feet ate the distance between them. “When did you get in? Why didn’t you tell me you were flying in today?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” She forced the words out around constricted vocal cords.

Hell, the surprise had been on her.

Chapter Two

Back at her apartment Deme climbed out of Cal’s SUV and slammed the door before he had a chance to shift into Park. “Don’t bother coming up. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

She’d insisted on calling a cab to take her home, but Cal had refused to let her. Now he sighed, got out of his vehicle and hurried to catch up to her. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him. “What’s the matter?”

“Seriously? You have to ask?” She shook off his hand and entered the building without looking back.

The short burst of happiness Cal had felt at seeing Deme had been effectively wiped away by the angry glare and brusque sentences. “Are you having second thoughts about us, again?”

“I would have had to have first thoughts. Just leave it. And leave me.” She fitted her key into the doorknob and twisted.

The door swung open. Deme stepped inside and turned to face him, blocking the entryway with her body. “You’re not welcome here.”

“Like hell.” He shoved the door open so hard it banged the wall. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell has your panties in a wad.” He closed the door behind him and leaned on it, crossing his arms over his chest. “Start talking.”

Deme threw her purse on the sofa and walked away. “And to think I’d been looking forward to seeing you.”

His heart flipped and raced on. He’d been looking forward to her return since the day she’d left. “And what changed your mind?”

“That woman, the conference room, the kiss.” Deme faced him, her hands on her hips. “Did you think I’d be happy to see you making out with another woman?”

His brows knitted together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You and the black-haired bitch in the conference room.” Deme shook her head. “Don’t play stupid with me. I saw you kissing her. You know...black hair...blue eyes...a body that doesn’t quit...”

Cal pushed his hand through his hair, trying to grasp what Deme was saying and not getting it. “The cop who transferred here from New York City? Medea?”

“Is that her name? I liked bitch better.” Deme pointed toward the door. “You can leave now.”

“I wasn’t kissing her.” Cal stalked across the floor, his gaze pinning Deme’s.

She didn’t back down, her head tipping back in order to maintain unwavering eye contact the closer he came. “Could have fooled me.”

When he stood in front of her, he took her hand, raising it to his lips. “You’re the only woman I care about.”

“Then why the kiss?” Deme’s body remained rigid.

“I don’t know what you saw, but we were discussing a murder case. That’s all.” He tipped up Deme’s chin, every ounce of his being yearning to take her into his arms and crush the anger out of her.

Her full, peach-colored lips softened, though her eyes remained narrowed. “I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Let’s start over.” He brushed her lips and sighed. “I’ve been waiting a month to do that.”

Deme swayed. The starch seemed to go out of her and she leaned against his chest. “I swear I saw you kissing her.”

“Jet lag, sweetheart. You were seeing things that wouldn’t happen. I only want to kiss you.” She felt so good in his arms. As soon as she’d pressed her breasts against his body, heat flooded his system, speeding toward his groin.

“Don’t play with me, Calais Black,” she whispered against his lips. “I don’t like games.”

“No games. But I would like to play with you.” His hands slid down her arms to the hem of her rib-knit blouse. In one long and lazy glide he hauled it up over her head and tossed it into the corner.

“Fine. But I’m only in this for the sex.” She poked a finger into his chest. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Uh-huh.” He captured that finger between his lips and sucked on it, releasing it with deliberate slowness. Then he pressed his mouth to the pounding pulse at the base of her throat. “I’ve got news for you.” He flicked the catch on her bra and slid it down her arms, her naked breasts springing free. “You might only be in this relationship for the sex. But I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Whatever.” He figured she was trying for nonchalant, but the catch in her voice with that one word belied her attempt to remain unaffected. “I really don’t care why you hang around. I’ve got an itch and since you’re here, you might as well scratch it.” She shoved his leather jacket off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor with a soft thump.

The more naked he got, the harder his cock. God, he couldn’t wait to plunge deep inside her. Her anger only made him that much more determined to bed her. And where she’d gotten the crazy idea he’d been kissing the cop on the Paranormal Task Force...well, hell...he could only guess.

Medea didn’t do it for him. Not like Deme. The red-haired Wiccan had had him bewitched from the first time he’d met her, and being assigned to help her find her missing sister had only brought his desires to a head. She was the toughest, smartest, softest-in-all-the-right-places woman he’d ever met and he couldn’t imagine being satisfied with anyone else.

After stripping him of his shirt, Deme unbuttoned her jeans.

Cal pushed her fingers aside and slid his hands inside the waistband of her panties, cupping her warm bottom. Then he eased the denim jeans and her silken underwear over the curve of her hips and down her long, sexy legs. “Lose the shoes,” he breathed against her ear.

Without hesitation Deme toed the back of one shoe and kicked it off. The other followed, giving Cal a clear path to slide the jeans off her legs. Once she’d stepped clear of the fabric, Cal ran his hands back up the insides of her thighs to the soft fur of her sex.

“Oh, baby, I’ve dreamed of you like this.” His fingers cupped her, one sliding into her warm wetness, his thumb pushing through to her folds, finding and stroking her clit. His other hand smoothed over her breasts, tweaking first one, then the other.

Deme clutched his arms, her nails digging into Cal’s skin, sending a delightful edge of pain through him, heightening the sexual tension between them.

His cock strained against his fly, eager to be set free from the confines of his trousers.

Deme’s gaze captured and held his, her eyes glazed, her breathing coming in short gasps. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you’re tired of us, before I find you screwing around.”

“What?” His mind on his cock, Cal had to drag himself back to reality to address her comment. He sucked in a deep breath, his finger still buried in her pussy, his heart racing at the stall. “Baby, I’d tell you. I promise. But it isn’t gonna happen. I want you in my life and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.” One hand squeezed her shoulder, his fingers sliding down her arm to her waist. He dragged her close, nudging her with the hardened ridge beneath his pants.

“Good, because if I catch you cheating on me again...” She reached for the button on his jeans, pushing it free, then slid his zipper down.

“You’ll what?” His cock jutted out into her palm and he hissed, his skin sensitive to her every touch.

“I’m make you sorry.” Deme wrapped her fingers around him and slid down the length of him, all the way to the base where she fondled his balls, squeezing gently.

Done with talk, and past the point of no return, Cal swept Deme into his arms, strode across the room and through her bedroom door. He sat her on the edge of the bed and stripped off the rest of his clothing. Then he dropped to his knees and parted her thighs, draping them over his shoulders. He kissed a path from the inside of her knee all the way up to where her channel glistened with the moisture of her desire.

His tongue lapped at the musky juices, swirling into her, tasting and teasing as he worked his way up to the tiny stretch of skin cradled between her folds. A hidden treasure to be teased and coaxed until she screamed out her frustration and need.

Cal flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue.

Deme lay back against the comforter, her back arching, a moan rising from her chest.

“More?” he asked.

“By the goddess, yesss.” Her fingers threaded through his hair and dug into his scalp, urging him closer.

He tapped her again, this time sliding his tongue over the length of her opening and then sucking her clit into his mouth, tugging on it gently. Cal let go and blew a cool stream of air over her heated flesh, knowing she loved it and hated it all at once. He liked that he could bring her to orgasm so quickly and liked even more to prolong the torture until she lost herself completely.

She drew in a deep breath, her body going rigid. “Oh, please. Don’t stop now,” she wailed.

Taking pity on her frustration, he lapped, nibbled and stroked her until she cried out, her heels digging into the muscles of his back, a spasm shaking her body.

As she shot over the edge of her climax, Cal rose quickly, rolled a condom over his cock and thrust deep inside her in one fluid movement. He rammed home, burying himself up to his balls before he slid back out to the very tip.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and tightened, forcing him back in. “You’re killing me. Don’t tease.”

Cal laughed and entered her again, settling into a fast and furious rhythm, pumping in and out like a racecar piston. As he neared his climax, he scooted her fully onto the mattress and lay down over her, his arms around her, crushing her to him as he drove in one last time.

Then his body tensed and his cock twitched shooting his seed into the safety of the prophylactic.

For a long moment he lay atop her, skin to skin, reveling in her beauty and the scent of peaches and roses that was uniquely Deme. Then he rolled to the side, taking her with him, refusing to break their intimate connection.

* * *

Deme lay for a long moment, basking in the afterglow of making love with Cal. During the intensity of their coupling, she’d pushed aside the memory of him and the black-haired beauty. Now the image returned banishing the residual warmth, making Deme all too aware of her nakedness and the coolness of the air in her apartment.

Cal must have sensed her withdrawal. “I didn’t kiss her.” As if to emphasize his point, he brushed his lips across hers.

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was of what she’d seen. “It doesn’t matter. You need to leave now.”

His brow furrowed and his rapidly deflating cock slipped out of her. “Are you sure? You’ve been gone a month...” he pressed a kiss to her eyelid. “I’ve missed you...” his lips slid along her cheekbone and trailed down the side of her throat.

Deme’s gut tightened. She had dreamed of her homecoming, of Cal staying in her apartment, them making love throughout the night and sleeping through the next day.

With a resigned sigh, she shook her head. “You need to go. We have to work tomorrow. It’ll be my first day on the job, and I want to make a good impression on Chief Warner.”

Cal captured her face between his palms and forced her to look him in the eye. “You can have your space, but know this...I don’t give up easily.” He kissed her, his tongue pushing past her clenched teeth to stroke the length of hers.

His hand cupped the back of her head, urging her closer, lengthening the connection.

When Cal broke away, Deme wanted to reach out and bring him back, to go for round two.

And based on the stiffness of his member, Cal was ready too. Instead he rolled off the bed and stood, staring down at her, his mouth set in a grim line. “Welcome home, Deme.” Then he gathered his clothing and dressed quickly.

Deme pulled the sheets up over her breasts and feasted her eyes on his naked hard body with broad shoulders that seemed to fill any room he entered. What was she doing? What was she trying to prove? She wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. Then why the hell was she pushing him away?

When he had his pants and shoes on, he slipped his shirt over his shoulders and grabbed his jacket from the floor. He stood in the doorway to her bedroom and glanced back at her, giving her every opportunity to change her mind.

When Deme didn’t say anything, Cal left, closing the door behind him.

Deme rolled out of the bed and headed straight for the bathroom and a shower to cool the heat raging inside. The ivy plant she’d left on the counter drooped. Her sisters had checked on her apartment once a week, but the little plant seemed neglected, forgotten in the mad rush of her sisters’ desire to get in, check on her stuff and leave to get on with their own lives.

Deme touched a finger to a dull green leaf. “Be happy. I’m home for good.” Energy flowed through her body and out the tip of her finger into the little ivy. Like a desert eager for water, the vines stiffened, each leaf fluttering, reaching for the light. A small measure of peace washed over Deme. “Thanks, I needed that.”

Deme grabbed a towel from the linen closet and tossed it over the shower rod. The sense of peace didn’t last long. As soon as she moved away from the ivy, thoughts of Cal pushed back into her mind.

She should have known better than to let a man beneath her skin, especially this man. She’d done it before with Cal and walked away–all the way to St. Croix in the Virgin Islands. Back then it had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. This time she couldn’t completely walk away.