Bewitched, Bothered, and Bitten

  Bewitched, Bothered, and Bitten

  by

  C.C. Wood

  This book is a work of fiction, created in the author’s fevered, twisted mind. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Especially if there are strippers or trampy women. The author knows nothing of those subjects.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Santa is watching and he will poop on your lawn. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights as that would make you a criminal and jerk. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Copyright Crystal W. Wilson 2014

  EPUB Edition

  Cover by

  Jena Brignola, Bibliophile Productions

  Editing by

  Tania Marinaro, Libros Evolution

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About C.C.

  Contact C.C.

  Titles by C.C. Wood

  Chapter One

  I tossed another log in the fireplace, using a poker to stoke the embers. I watched as the flames engulfed the log, crackling loudly. The house creaked and settled as the frigid wind blew outside. A cold front had moved through that afternoon and the temperature dropped to just a few degrees above freezing. I loved it.

  Winter was my favorite time of year. Well, winter in Texas was my favorite. Snow was rare and the temperature almost never dropped more than a few degrees below freezing. This was the first truly cold night of the season and I intended to enjoy it.

  Replacing the poker, I went over to the couch and curled up beneath the afghan my mother had crocheted the year before she died. A pang of sadness washed over me. Three years later and my heart still ached for the loss of my mother. I missed her every single day. The poignancy was stronger here at the country home where she’d spent the last few months of her life. I’d been spending more and more time here as opposed to the loft apartment above my New Age store in Dallas.

  Those memories weighed me down, pulling me toward that dark place I didn’t want to go. I sighed and reached for the wineglass on the side table. In the years since my mother passed away, it never got any easier.

  I swirled the deep red wine in the glass and took a sip, letting it warm me from the inside out. I stared into the fire, trying not to think of anything at all. My life hadn’t exactly been peaceful the last few months and things wouldn’t be getting better any time soon.

  Two of my friends were now playing house with vampires and I had another vamp sniffing after me. Then there was The Faction, a group of rogue vampires, with their malevolent plans, whatever they may be. If that wasn’t enough stress for a girl, there was upheaval in my coven. I wasn’t sure what worried me more.

  Once again, I thought of my mother and wished she were here to give me advice. She was one of the smartest women I’d ever known. She could see into the heart of people with very little trouble and I would have been able to count on her opinions, her guidance. There were reasons she was next in line as High Priestess of our coven and it wasn’t just because she had been the most powerful practitioner.

  One of the logs in the fire broke apart with a crack, pulling me free of my thoughts. I drank more wine, hoping it would calm the tumult in my mind. There were too many things happening in my life right now and I felt close to breaking.

  A whisper of sound echoed in my head. I felt as though something were shifting on the edge of my peripheral vision, yet I couldn’t quite see it. It was then that I knew he was here.

  I closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the sofa. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Did I really want him to? Something unidentifiable shot through me at the thought.

  Tossing the afghan to the side, I stood and drained my wineglass, setting it on the coffee table with a little too much force. I shoved my feet into my fuzzy booties and went to the front door. The slap of cold wind made me suck in my breath and I wrapped my arms around my body.

  My eyes scanned the tree line in front of the house, searching for any signs of an intruder. Tonight was the new moon, so the landscape was dark. I tried not to think about the symbolism of the new moon. It was supposed to be a time of beginnings, fresh starts. I ignored the trepidation that crawled along my skin, attributing it to the icy air that swirled around me.

  “Why are you out here without a coat?”

  I jumped and whirled toward the sound of his voice. His long shadow rose from the porch swing, his outline barely visible in the dark. Before I could respond, he shrugged out of his coat and draped it over my shoulders. Still hot from his body, the fabric smelled of him, spicy with a hint of vanilla. It reminded me of the mulled wine my mother would make for winter solstice and Yule.

  I let myself enjoy the sensation of being surrounded by him for a split second. Then, I demanded, “Why are you here at all?”

  Finn took another step forward and his purple eyes flared, glowing faintly in the shadows, a sign that he was either hungry, turned on, angry, or trying to use his powers. I was unsure which. “You know why.”

  The wind lifted the ends of his thick brown hair, tangling it around his shoulders. I stared up at him, anger and desire warring in my belly.

  “Are we going to have this discussion again? Really?” I asked, my voice going up an octave.

  I could see the flash of his smile, even in the deep shadows of the porch. His fangs had extended slightly and I was suddenly very aware of the throb of my pulse in my neck.

  “Kerry.” His voice drifted around me, so deep and rich I could feel it like fingers stroking down my spine.

  Somehow, he was even closer than before, yet we weren’t touching. Even in the frigid night, I could feel the heat pouring off his body as though he were burning from within. I couldn’t take much more of this. He was haunting me. I saw him in my dreams and he seemed to arrive at my weakest moments, as though he knew when I might be pushed past my reserve and give in to the palpable chemistry between us.

  For months, he’d pursued me. The first time he came to me in a dream, I thought it was my sex-starved imagination desperate for some relief, though we rarely did more than talk and kiss. Even our conversations felt intimate and erotic.

  Until, one day, he slipped and mentioned something he shouldn’t have known. Something I had never said aloud, except in a dream. I’d been angry, but mostly I was hurt. His tactics were underhanded and invasive. I tried to keep him out of my dreams after that
, but I couldn’t resist for long.

  When I saw him in my sleep, I didn’t have to worry about what the coven would think or what our High Priestess would say. I didn’t have to consider the rule prohibiting me from consorting with a vampire. I could just….be. Once I was aware that I was truly talking to him in those dreams, I weighed my words a little more carefully, but, still, I told him more than I probably should. I talked about my past, my mother, and how much easier my life had become since I didn’t have to hide my true self from my closest friends.

  Finn told me things about himself. He talked a great deal about his life as a human and his wild adventures as both mortal and vampire. I’m sure there were things he didn’t share with me, just as I kept certain tidbits of my history a secret. Still, I found myself liking him and feeling drawn to him, in spite of the fact that witches had been forbidden from engaging in relationships with vampires for centuries.

  Over the last few months, it had become a constant game of tug o’ war. He would do and say things in my dreams that made me feel close to him and want to know him better, then I would see him in reality and realize that I was building foolish fantasies of things that could never be.

  “Why are you doing this, Finn? Why won’t you leave me alone?” I whispered, desperately wanting to take a step back but my feet refused to move.

  His hand lifted and brushed my hair back from my face where the wind had blown it. “You’ve been alone too long already and you don’t have to be.”

  “That’s not fair, Finn. I shouldn’t have told you that. I shouldn’t be talking to you, even in my dreams.” My pulse kicked up another notch and I managed to back away slightly. Not that it helped. Finn’s eyes flared brighter and he followed my movements. Shit, I’d forgotten Rule #1 when dealing with a vampire. Never run. “Stop.”

  Finn leaned down, his face a few scant inches from my own. “You don’t want me to. All these months of pulling me in and pushing me away. Even I can see that you are fighting your own instincts.”

  I scoffed. “Yes, actually, I do want you to stop.”

  Once again I saw the gleam of bright white teeth, his fangs now completely extended. “Then you should let go of me.”

  I glanced down and saw that I had one hand flattened against his chest and the other fisted in his shirt. Now that I was seeing it, I felt it as well. The heat of his body beneath my palm, taut muscle, and the quick, steady thump of his heart. I tried to jerk my hand away, but Finn’s fingers wrapped around my wrist. He pressed my palm closer. My fingers brushed the bare skin of his chest above the v-neck of his sweater.

  My mouth suddenly felt dry. “Finn.”

  A low sound emerged from his throat. “When you say my name like that, I want to see what I have to do to get you to say it again.”

  It was official. I was no longer cold. In fact, I was so hot, I almost didn’t need his coat. The heat that washed over me gathered low in my pelvis and throbbed with every beat of my heart. Before I could stop myself, I took two steps back, instinctively trying to put space between us even though he still held my wrist.

  In a flash, my back was pressed against the front door and Finn’s long, hard body was plastered to mine. I gasped when I felt his mouth touch my neck, his lips branding the skin over my carotid. My head fell back and my legs became useless, my will to resist this crazy attraction taking a major hit at the sensation of his mouth on my skin. I sagged into Finn’s embrace. This was the first time he’d put his mouth on me. In the last couple of months, we’d danced around one another, Finn attempting to seduce me while I desperately yet unsuccessfully tried to remain unmoved. I wanted him. I didn’t want to want him, but I did, probably more than was healthy.

  Now that I’d spent so much time with him, I could see beyond the fog of lust that clouded my mind every time he was near, to the man he was beneath the surface. Finn was more than the fanged beast we were taught to fear as children. He was honorable, affectionate, and compassionate. He had flaws, arrogance for one, like anyone else, but, at his core, he was the best man I’d ever met. This knowledge made resistance even more difficult.

  “Finn.” His name was practically a soundless puff of air as it escaped my lips, but he heard it.

  “You taste better than I imagined.” I felt the vibration of his voice against my throat and shivered.

  His hands parted the coat he’d draped around me, sliding under the thermal shirt I wore. While folklore said that vampires were the undead and unusually cold to the touch, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Vamps ran hotter than humans, especially after feeding. His hands were so hot that I expected my skin to sizzle. Tendrils of icy air threaded between us and the juxtaposition of his fiery touch and the cold wind threatened to overwhelm me.

  Finn’s mouth moved up my throat as his hand slid up my body. I moaned softly as his lips touched my ear. “You’re shaking, Kerry. Let me warm you.”

  My nipples tightened when the tips of his fingers brushed the underside of my breast. Then his palm cupped me, his thumb brushing over my nipple. It only took that simple touch to make me wet. His other hand smoothed down my spine and beneath the waistband of my pajama pants.

  When his hand encountered bare skin, Finn hesitated and lifted his head, his beautiful eyes glowing like two amethyst stones. “Goddess help me, you’re not wearing a stitch beneath these clothes are you.”

  He didn’t let me respond. Instead he lowered his head and kissed me. He wasn’t tentative or gentle as he had been earlier. Finn kissed me deeply, his mouth opening over mine, his tongue thrusting between my lips. He tasted the way he smelled, like mulled wine, spicy and a little sweet.

  Finn groaned into my mouth and I realized I’d buried both of my hands in his hair, wrapping the silky strands around my fingers. His thumb and forefinger tugged at my nipple, the small pain arrowing through my body straight to my clit.

  I could barely catch my breath. Sensation after sensation washed over me, making me forget why this was a huge mistake.

  Finn released my mouth, his cheek sliding against mine. I whimpered when he used his lips and the tip of his tongue along the side of my throat, up to my ear.

  “Are you wet for me?” he asked, his voice rough.

  As his hand moved from my ass, around my hip, Finn sucked lightly at the skin right above my collarbone. Just as his fingers grazed my clit, he nipped me sharply with his teeth. The fog blanketing my mind vanished and I realized that I was moments away from being blooded and fucked by the very creature considered an enemy by my coven. I was already on shaky ground with them as it was, I couldn’t afford to push my luck.

  “Stop.” My voice was shaky and weak even to my own ears as I grabbed Finn’s forearm.

  He heard me, the movement of his fingers between my thighs halting, though he didn’t withdraw his hand. “Are you sure, Kerry?” My eyes almost rolled back into my head when he drew a light circle against my clit. “You’re so swollen, I can feel your pulse here. I know it hurts. I can make the pain go away.” He pinched my nipple lightly as he mirrored the motion with my clit.

  I almost came as both pain and pleasure spread through my body. Somehow, I managed to speak. “Stop, Finn.” I forced myself to meet his eyes, squinting against the intense light his irises emitted.

  The movement of his hands ceased and he lowered his head. I heard him sigh and mutter something about stubborn witches, but the rest of the words were lost as a sudden gust of wind blew between us. He released my breast, smoothing my shirt down once he was done. My hips jerked when he inched his other hand from between my thighs. I fought to ignore the ache between my legs. I watched wordlessly as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and they disappeared inside.

  He removed his hand from his lips, humming in the back of his throat. “You taste of honey and wine. I could spend hours savoring such a delicious treat.”

  I could see and feel it after he spoke. His face between my thighs, the swipe of his tongue over my clit. Unable to speak, I fumbled with
the doorknob behind me, stumbling backward into the house and slamming the door shut between us. I leaned my forehead against the rough wood of the front door, panting while my body burned with need.

  My harsh breathing stopped completely when I heard him speak, muffled by the door and the howling wind outside, yet still clear.

  “I’ll be back for my coat, Kerry. And another taste of honey.”

  Then he was gone.

  Chapter Two

  After Finn left, I couldn’t sleep. My body hummed with a sexual tension that couldn’t be relieved and my mind whirled with all the reasons I shouldn’t get more involved with him. As long as I only saw him in my sleep, I could continue to pretend that this dangerous attraction wasn’t real. If we slept together, I could no longer luxuriate in denial and there would be consequences.

  I had to do something to clear my mind and relieve the tension coiled in my lower body. I tried, dear Goddess, I tried. The orgasm did nothing to relieve the ache within me. After tossing and turning for a couple of hours, I prepared a cup of my mother’s special tea. She always dried herbs from her garden and brewed them as a tea to help with insomnia. I continued the ritual when I couldn’t sleep, the scent and delicate, almost floral flavors bringing back memories of her.

  It was after midnight before I drifted off. When he came to me, I knew it was only a dream. At least, that’s what I told myself. In reality, I didn’t care. I was still so aroused from our earlier encounter on the porch that I couldn’t bring myself to give a damn if this was a shared dream or a fantasy whipped up by my fevered, horny brain. Over the past few months, he’d held me and kissed me in our shared dreams, but that was all.

  When I rolled over, I found Finn lying next to me in bed, the blankets pulled up to his bare chest. His tanned skin and dark brown hair glowed in the firelight.

  We didn’t speak. Somehow it wasn’t necessary. Finn stretched out over me, his mouth and hands voracious. I touched him in all the ways I imagined, running my hands over the skin of his back, down to his ass. Then I did what I wanted to do earlier on the porch, I brought my hand around to the front of his body and cupped his cock. Finn groaned, his hips thrusting against my touch. I slid my palm against the hot, smooth skin of his erection and wanted to use my mouth instead.