Hexed

Susan asks if we want to come inside. Ariela and Min are anxious to hear details.
    Stephen shakes his head. “You fill them in. I’d like to go home.”
    She opens her purse. “You can take my car. Ariela can give me a lift.”
    “I can give him a ride,” I hear myself blurting. Then, holding my breath to await his reaction, I add, “My car is in the parking lot.”
    My heart is thudding against my ribs. What if he says no?
    And yet his grip on my hand remains firm and he’s smiling.
    “I was hoping you’d offer,” he says.
    He scoops Susan into a hug. “See you tomorrow?”
    Susan says yes. She looks happy when she leaves us on the sidewalk to disappear from sight through the magical doorway.
    “My car is just at the end of the Prado,” I say.
    We’re both quiet as we make our way down the shadowstrewn walkway toward the parking lot. Once, I glance at Stephen and he is grinning.
    “What’s that all about?” I ask.
    “Susan says we make a nice-looking couple,” he says.
    I smile, too. “This psychic thing. Is the connection always open between you two?”
    “Most of the time. Why?”
    I pull him to a stop. If I don’t do this now, the opportunity may never come again. “Can she tell when you’re, um, not open to chat?”
    He pulls me close. “You mean when I’m otherwise engaged?”
    “Yes.”
    I stand on tiptoe, the better to reach his lips with my own. “You know this is crazy, don’t you?”
    His mouth is so close I feel the softness of his lips against mine. “Crazier than what just happened to us?”
    “But you know what I am. You saw what I can do.”
    “And I’m still here. And Samual isn’t, by the way. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
    Yes. Maybe. Oh hell. I let my reservations slip away. This time when he kisses me, I kiss him back.
    This time when he kisses me, I let my passion match his own.
    And this time when he kisses me, there are no interruptions. I lose myself in the kiss, blood races, skin becomes hot. Every cell in my body wants to throw Stephen down right here in the parking lot and satisfy what the kiss stirs up. It’s been too long since I’ve had sex. Too long since I’ve experienced wanting . I feel like I’m about to explode with desire.
    A sound from behind us. Another couple approaching from the Prado. It snaps me back to reality. I give Stephen a gentle push. “Let’s go to my house. It’s not far from here.”
    “It better not be.” His voice is hoarse. I feel his heart thudding against my palm.
    I grab his hand. “Come on.”

NINETEEN
     

     
    ONCE INSIDE, WE DON’T MAKE IT TO THE bedroom. As soon as the front door closes behind us, we’re in each other’s arms.
    Stephen’s desire matches my own. He pushes me back onto the couch. His hands pull at my blouse, yank it free. I’m ripping at his shirt, too, tugging it over his head, hearing a rip of material as it comes free. Then I’m fumbling with his zipper as he fumbles with mine. After an interminable amount of time, we’re finally free of our clothes.
    No foreplay. No whispered terms of endearment. We don’t need it. I’m so wet I want him inside me now. He’s hard and ready, too, more than ready. He leans over me.
    Then pulls back abruptly.
    “Anna,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I don’t have a—”
    If I weren’t so aroused, I’d laugh. Instead I rasp, “Condom? Vampire, remember?” And raise my hips to meet him.
    When he enters me, the same moan escapes both our lips. A moan of relief, of joy. He grinds into me, filling me, driving me. I respond with equal intensity, wrapping my legs around his hips to bring him closer, deeper. I don’t know this man, know nothing about him. Yet at this moment, I know everything I need to know. And more important, he knows me. What I am. What I’m capable of.
    He didn’t flinch and he didn’t turn away.
    I hear Stephen’s breath catch, feel the force of his thrusts intensify as he nears climax. He groans. “I don’t think I can—”
    I place a finger over his lips. “Don’t hold back.”
    I’m not there yet, but it doesn’t matter. I coax him on with the rhythm of my own body. Maybe being more interested in his pleasure than my own frees me to notice things I’ve never noticed before during sex. The way his muscles bunch and release, the touch of his hands holding me, the way his body presses urgently against mine. Sensations I’ve experienced only through the prism of my own needs.
    His very smell is an