that damned love potion work.
He stopped stroking my body and looked away, like he was
uncomfortable.
"What?" I asked, suddenly paranoid. Did I smell
weird or something? Did he notice something down there that made him decide
against going all the way?
"You wouldn't happen to have any condoms?" he
asked, still not making eye contact.
"I don't exactly do this much, so no. But you can go
get yours, I won't go anywhere."
"I ran out," he said, polite enough to not add when he ran out. Yesterday? Earlier today? I tried not to react. It really wasn't
any of my business. Finn was helping me with the spell, that's as far as this
went.
"Maybe some other time then," I mumbled,
immediately feeling like an idiot when it came out. As if there would be
another time. Of course, if this didn't make the spell work, we'd have to go
all the way. Assuming, of course, he still wanted to help.
I decided that his response of "I hope so" was
noncommittal. I knew he had loads of partners, but the thought of him having
enough sex to run out of condoms smarted. And he must have just run out too,
since his amount of hook ups was kind of staggering.
"His hook ups..." I mused to myself. Now, I was
one of them.
Finn's breathing slowed as I snuggled into my pillows. I
didn't want to think about this anymore, opting instead to focus on the
afterglow of my orgasm while I drifted to sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I woke up with a start. The flood of sunlight across my
bedroom told me I majorly overslept. Finn was pressed against me, his leg flung
over mine. Each time I tried to extract myself, his quads clenched tighter,
pinning me down.
I poked his shoulder instead. "Finn..."
He mumbled something but continued to ignore me.
"Finn," I said louder, jamming my finger into his
bone.
"Come on, Iz," he said.
"Let me up," I insisted. "I have to open the
store."
"Or what? You'll be fired?"
"I won't have any business."
"You probably won't anyway," he mumbled, eyes
still closed. "Those sorority chicks are mad at you, remember?"
He had a point there. I did a mental run down of my Tarot
appointments for the day. It went fast, because there were none. But that
didn't make me feel any better about slacking.
"I still should get up," I told him, feeling
pretty weird. Finn was in my bed, I was naked, and we had majorly fooled
around. What did I do?
"Let's just enjoy this," he said, his hand
drifting up and down my body.
"Finn," I started, his feather strokes on my
breast a distraction. "We can't do this again."
"Why not?"
There was no good answer for that. I absolutely wanted to do
everything again, and more. But it was Finn. Moody Finn. The guy that bedded at
least three different girls a week. He ran out of condoms!
Not to mention, he hated magic. Or, maybe more
appropriately, he hated my magic.
I stared at the piece of quartz on my bedside table,
realization flooding into me. "How did you know what to do with that
quartz? The telos? The focused intent? That was no lucky guess."
This time he released me. Actually, he jumped out of bed and
pulled his jeans on, leaving the buttons on his fly undone. Then he paced the
room.
"I wanted to tell you," he paused and rubbed his
sleep mussed hair. "It was never the right time, or the right words."
I pulled the sheet around me tighter. "Well, I think
you need to find the words right now, right or wrong."
His face darkened. "I was sent here."
"Sent here? By who?"
"My coven."
"Your coven?" My voice was barely a whisper.
He nodded. "After your grandmother died. Our High
Priestess knew your grandmother a long time ago, and wanted to do something for
you in your grief. So she sent me to help out."
"By paying rent?" I asked.
"Among other things."
Wondering what those "other things" could be, I
lifted the sheet higher, covering my cleavage. "So you're a witch
too?"
He at least had the decency to look sheepish.
"Yes."
"So all that shit-talking you did about witch
craft?"
"I didn't shit-talk it," he
He stopped stroking my body and looked away, like he was
uncomfortable.
"What?" I asked, suddenly paranoid. Did I smell
weird or something? Did he notice something down there that made him decide
against going all the way?
"You wouldn't happen to have any condoms?" he
asked, still not making eye contact.
"I don't exactly do this much, so no. But you can go
get yours, I won't go anywhere."
"I ran out," he said, polite enough to not add when he ran out. Yesterday? Earlier today? I tried not to react. It really wasn't
any of my business. Finn was helping me with the spell, that's as far as this
went.
"Maybe some other time then," I mumbled,
immediately feeling like an idiot when it came out. As if there would be
another time. Of course, if this didn't make the spell work, we'd have to go
all the way. Assuming, of course, he still wanted to help.
I decided that his response of "I hope so" was
noncommittal. I knew he had loads of partners, but the thought of him having
enough sex to run out of condoms smarted. And he must have just run out too,
since his amount of hook ups was kind of staggering.
"His hook ups..." I mused to myself. Now, I was
one of them.
Finn's breathing slowed as I snuggled into my pillows. I
didn't want to think about this anymore, opting instead to focus on the
afterglow of my orgasm while I drifted to sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I woke up with a start. The flood of sunlight across my
bedroom told me I majorly overslept. Finn was pressed against me, his leg flung
over mine. Each time I tried to extract myself, his quads clenched tighter,
pinning me down.
I poked his shoulder instead. "Finn..."
He mumbled something but continued to ignore me.
"Finn," I said louder, jamming my finger into his
bone.
"Come on, Iz," he said.
"Let me up," I insisted. "I have to open the
store."
"Or what? You'll be fired?"
"I won't have any business."
"You probably won't anyway," he mumbled, eyes
still closed. "Those sorority chicks are mad at you, remember?"
He had a point there. I did a mental run down of my Tarot
appointments for the day. It went fast, because there were none. But that
didn't make me feel any better about slacking.
"I still should get up," I told him, feeling
pretty weird. Finn was in my bed, I was naked, and we had majorly fooled
around. What did I do?
"Let's just enjoy this," he said, his hand
drifting up and down my body.
"Finn," I started, his feather strokes on my
breast a distraction. "We can't do this again."
"Why not?"
There was no good answer for that. I absolutely wanted to do
everything again, and more. But it was Finn. Moody Finn. The guy that bedded at
least three different girls a week. He ran out of condoms!
Not to mention, he hated magic. Or, maybe more
appropriately, he hated my magic.
I stared at the piece of quartz on my bedside table,
realization flooding into me. "How did you know what to do with that
quartz? The telos? The focused intent? That was no lucky guess."
This time he released me. Actually, he jumped out of bed and
pulled his jeans on, leaving the buttons on his fly undone. Then he paced the
room.
"I wanted to tell you," he paused and rubbed his
sleep mussed hair. "It was never the right time, or the right words."
I pulled the sheet around me tighter. "Well, I think
you need to find the words right now, right or wrong."
His face darkened. "I was sent here."
"Sent here? By who?"
"My coven."
"Your coven?" My voice was barely a whisper.
He nodded. "After your grandmother died. Our High
Priestess knew your grandmother a long time ago, and wanted to do something for
you in your grief. So she sent me to help out."
"By paying rent?" I asked.
"Among other things."
Wondering what those "other things" could be, I
lifted the sheet higher, covering my cleavage. "So you're a witch
too?"
He at least had the decency to look sheepish.
"Yes."
"So all that shit-talking you did about witch
craft?"
"I didn't shit-talk it," he
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