That Old Black Magic (2 page)

She scoffed a little and arched an
eyebrow. “If you don’t let me get the perimeter down and
activated before he gets inside, we’re both busted.”

“
Perimeter?” He tugged
the closet door shut with his free hand, but didn’t release
her. “Explain.”

“
If you’ve been
single-handedly culling my client base, you’re not human. The
wizard will sense you, and then he’ll find you. When he does,
I’m fucked.” Polly moved slowly, his fingers still
wrapped around her wrist, and pulled a silver flask out of her
pocket. “But not if I secure the closet.” At his dubious
look, she rolled her eyes again. “I’m not going to hurt
myself just to hurt you. Let go.”

It was a rookie mistake, forgetting
a wizard would be able to sense his power the second he crossed the
threshold. Max ground his teeth and jerked his hand from her wrist.
“Fine, set the damn perimeter.”

She unscrewed the cap from the flask
and squeezed past him. “Try to get as close to the back wall as
you can. He has some spell components stored in those boxes by the
door. I don’t want to risk him missing them and coming to
investigate.” As she spoke, she bent and began splashing a line
of clear liquid on the floor.

The damn charm he was after
had
to be in the closet with them, because the sight of her bent over in
front of him shorted out his brain. He forced himself back a step to
keep from grabbing her hips, his client’s words floating
through his head.
It
lowers inhibitions.
All
inhibitions. Anyone within twenty feet will give in to their basest
desires.

His mouth felt dry as his gaze
traced the full swell of her hips and the curve of her ass. His
basest desires were simple enough: take, possess, pleasure. And he
was trapped with her. In a closet. In the sweaty Louisiana bayou.

Most fucked up job ever.

Polly gritted her teeth and tried to
pretend she couldn’t feel the weight of Mr. Tall, Dark, and
Snarly’s stare on her ass.
Take
a picture, jackass.
Even
as the indignant thought formed in her head, her nipples tightened
under the thin black cotton of her shirt. He’d wandered into
her
job and screwed up
her
plans. Why did he also have to be hot as hell?

She wasn’t a short woman, but
he still towered over her, and his dark eyes followed every move she
made as she marked off the back half of the closet. She’d have
to go back to Atlanta for more of the formula soon, but she didn’t
mind. It had been a while since she and Gertie had hung out.

Polly finished pouring the potion,
careful to leave no gaps in the protective line. “Parsimonious,”
she whispered as she capped the flask.

Behind her, the man snorted. “That’s
a hell of a magic word.”

She flashed him her middle finger as
she slid the flask back into her pocket. “Are you always this
pleasant to people who just saved your ass?”

He moved so fast she didn’t
realize he was coming at her until his hands locked around her waist.
She ended up half against the wall, half on the sink, and those dark
brown eyes stared at hers in tense silence before a low, sensual
laugh rumbled out of his chest. “Is that what you think you’re
doing?”

“
Shifter. Should have known.”
Polly swallowed hard and gave him a bored look she knew he wouldn’t
buy for a second. Her pulse pounded hard in her ears, and the vague
tingling in her cunt gave way to an insistent throb. “You’re
all bossy, holier-than-thou bastards.”

He laughed again as he inched
closer, wedging his hips between her legs. “And we can tell
when you like us that way. You’re wet already, just thinking
about getting bent over this sink and fucked into next week.”

She held her breath and watched a
drop of sweat roll down his neck and disappear beneath his collar.
“Wrong.”

“
Wrong?” He pressed
closer, and she felt the hard ridge of his cock grinding against her.
“What, you like to be on top?”

Don’t answer, Polly.
Her hips arched and she bit her lip, but a whimper escaped. “What’s
your name?” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the
sweat-slicked skin at the base of his throat.

He swallowed, and his voice grew
decidedly huskier. “Max.”

“
Max.” She reached up,
slipped her fingers into the damp hair at the back of his neck, and
yanked his head toward hers. She could think of nothing but the taste
and texture of his skin under her tongue, and she whispered his name
again, then licked a path over his stubbled jaw to his ear.

“
Fuck—” He shifted
her just enough to drop her on the edge of the sink, freeing his
hands to skim up her back and take her shirt with them. “I like
the way you wrap your tongue around my name.”

The salt tang of his skin sent a
thrill of desire through her, and she shivered. “Wait ‘til
I wrap it around everything else.”

He groaned and tangled his fingers
in her hair. His grip tightened and he jerked her head back to bare
her throat with a soft growl. “Maybe later.” He whispered
the words against the pounding pulse in her throat and dragged his
tongue over her skin. “I have to be inside you.”

The low, rough sound of his voice
made her cunt clench, and Polly fidgeted, trying to relieve the wet
ache between her thighs. “I’ll even let you bite me,”
she promised, then dug her nails into his scalp and guided his mouth
to hers.

His tongue swept across hers with a
lazy skill completely at odds with the leashed tension trembling in
him. One hand stayed in her hair, but the other cupped her breast,
his thumb flicking over the tight nipple. Another shiver wracked her,
and he swallowed her sharp, needy moan.

Polly had to let go of his head to
tug up his shirt, and she hissed in a breath when her palms glided
over the hard, flat planes of his stomach and chest. “God
damn
,”
she muttered against his lips. “Take it off.”

“
Not much room in here for
stripping,” he murmured in reply. His hand dropped from her
breast to the button on her cargo pants. “Maybe later.”

“
There
is
no later,” she reminded him. She pulled her gun free of her
pants and laid it on a shelf beside them. Then her own hand drifted
down between them to stroke his cock through his jeans. “Just
right now.”

He groaned and thrust against her
palm before redoubling his efforts. Clever fingers wiggled into her
pants and rubbed at her clit through the damp fabric of her panties.
“Too bad. You’re hot when you moan.”

“
You hate me and everything I
stand for. That’s a built-in expiration date.” Stars
painted the backs of her eyelids, and she pushed at his chest. When
he stepped back, she jumped down and turned around. “Bent over
the sink and fucked into next week, right?”

His fingers curled around her hips
and he rubbed against her ass as his breath feathered over her ear.
“I can hear him on the front porch,” he whispered. “Is
your little perimeter going to keep sound in? Or do you want him to
walk in here and
find
us? Is that what’s got you so hot?”

Polly wanted to lie, to tell him it
was the danger and nothing else weakening her knees. “It’s
soundproof,” she rasped instead. “It’ll hold.”
She bit off a curse and dug a condom out of her back pocket. “Here.”

She heard the package tear open and
his deep laughter tickled against her neck again. “Either you
pack some weird equipment for your jobs, or you
do
get off on the danger. What were you going to do? Fuck the first guy
you put hands on after you got out of here?”

The nonlubricated ones
did
come in handy, actually, and for a variety of purposes. “Do you
have a condom in your wallet?”

His fingers curled into the
waistband of her pants and tugged them down. “Don’t
you
have a wallet?”

She growled and curled her fingers
around the sink. “This is the stupidest conversation I’ve
ever had. And you’re a sexist ass.”

“
Always a critic, huh,
sweetheart?” Those strong fingers slid over her hip again,
circling her clit as the blunt head of his cock bumped against her
teasingly. His other hand trailed up her back and forced her to bend
down. Heat exploded through her, an inexplicable, yearning hunger,
and she moaned again when her bared nipples brushed the cool stone of
the sink. “Fuck me,” she demanded, wiggling back against
him, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m running
out of mean things to say to you.”

“
All bark.” His hand
tightened on her hip and she cried out as he thrust home. The hand on
her hip hurried up her back to curl in her hair again, and he tugged
her head back until his breath fell hot and dangerous against the
vulnerable curve of her neck. “No bite.”

“
Don’t make me wish I’d
shot you when I had the chance.” She didn’t wish any such
thing, not with his cock huge and deep inside her. Polly pushed off
the sink and rocked into him, whimpering when he ground against her.

His laugh turned into a groan, and
she felt the sharp bite as he closed his teeth on the side of her
neck. He bent over and brought her with him, leaving her trapped
between the sink and the hard heat of his body as he pulled back and
thrust into her again.

She tried to come up with something
else glib and insulting to throw at him.
Don’t
bruise me up,
maybe, or,
Better make this good.
It’s been a while since I had crazy sex in a closet.
Her brain wouldn’t cooperate. It was just as well, since she
couldn’t seem to control the pleading moans that slipped
between her lips every time he drew back and drove into her again.

But he seemed to like the moans. He
answered each one with a low, growling groan, and his fingers rubbed
over her clit in an insistent rhythm as he sped his pace. “Come
on, sweetheart—come—”

“
Don’t rush me.”
Polly shuddered and pulled his hand out of her hair. She twined her
fingers with his and urged his arm around her body, guiding him to
cup her breast. Together, they tugged and pinched her nipple, and her
head hit his shoulder. “Fuck.”

“
Workin’ on it.”
He hissed in a breath and thrust into her hard enough to drive a low
noise from her lips. “Tell me what you like.”

“
Harder.” She barely
recognized her own voice. Her toes curled inside her boots. Her heart
pounded, echoing the throbbing tension inside her. “Bite me
again. God,
now
—”

Her words dissolved into a shriek as
he closed his teeth on the spot where her shoulder curved into her
neck. His growl of approval rumbled through his chest, vibrated
against her back, and he continued his hard, deep thrusts with a
stamina and determination that was outright impressive.

Polly came. Pleasure surged through
her with alarming strength, the kind that made her head ache and her
knees collapse. She squeezed her eyes shut and chanted his name, her
body shaking in the circle of his arm, her nails scratching into his
skin.

He hissed again when her nails broke
the skin on his arm, and he thrust against her one last time as a
ragged moan spilled from his lips, muffled against her neck. His hips
rocked against her ass in a desperate grind that finally stilled as
he dropped his head to her shoulder and exhaled roughly. “Holy
fuck.”

She opened her eyes and tried to
focus on a water stain in the corner of the ceiling. Her breath came
in short, labored pants, and sweat trickled between her breasts. “Can
you hear him?” She needed to get out of the closet. She needed
to get away.

“
Shh.” He eased away,
and she heard quiet rustling and the soft click of his belt buckle. A
zipper rasped up, and then gentle hands eased her panties and cargo
pants back up over her hips. “He’s gone,” he
whispered. His hands coasted up her sides and to her arms, warm,
callused fingers rubbing along the skin left bare by her tank top.