14. ~Celine~
Chapter 14
~Celine~
The place was packed, but most of the crowd was pushed toward the stage. I’d never been here, some bar where a lot of the college students hung out. It was dark, but the stage spot- lighted where Diego was singing his heart out, his eyes closed, strumming the guitar.
My cousin Morgan plucked at the bass, his head down and focused as always while girls drooled and stared and sang the song with them. Apparently, they had groupies now. Go figure.
Skirting along the back of the club where it was less crowded, I peered over the throng, trying to find Ronan. I’d texted him I was running a few minutes late. He’d texted back he was already here, but I couldn’t find him, and he was pretty recognizable. A tall, sexy-as-sin blond usually stood out in the crowd.
I decided maybe I would need to push my way to the bar on the far side when an arm wrapped around me and pulled me back into the shadows. I yelped, then instantly laughed, knowing the scent and the feel of the man’s arms around me.
He buried his nose into my hair, nuzzling it aside to get to my ear. “Got you.”
“Yeah, Ronan.” I turned my head to look up at him over my shoulder since he had my back glued to his chest. “You really do.”
Smiling, he dipped his head at an angle and kissed me sweetly, a swift, brief sweep of lips. He still held me tight like he’d captured his prey and he wasn’t letting go. I didn’t want him to let go. Not ever.
The song ended in a wild crescendo, then a slower melody began.
“You look beautiful in this dress.”
I’d found this dress online and instantly bought it, thinking of Ronan. It wasn’t my usual type. It was a black shift dress with angel-wing sleeves and a loose hem that hung elegantly against my frame. The scoop neck reminded me of our first date and the way he liked access to my neck, and I liked giving him access to my skin.
“I wore it for you.”
He dipped his mouth close to my ear. “What color are the pretty panties you wore for me?”
I smiled. “I didn’t wear any at all. For you.”
The gruff sound he made in his throat sent a tingling shiver across my skin. “The things you say.”
Then Diego said, “Here’s one for those falling hard. It’s called ‘I Wanna Be Yours.’”
Then he began to croon softly, while Ronan dragged me backward, deeper into the shadows until we were tucked into an alcove, and I was standing between his spread legs. He reached up and turned off the sconce lamp above his head so that we were steeped in shadow.
“Do you know this song?” he whispered close to my ear.
“No.”
“Listen closely.”
He began to sing the lyrics in my ear, his hold on me softening as he spread a palm across my ribs, my heart melting when I realized the song was all about the desperate need to fall in love, to be someone’s everything.
I leaned my head back until it hit his chest, watching the band and the mass of the crowd sway in the dim light near the stage, seeming entirely separate from us in our private corner.
Ronan continued singing softly in my ear, sliding his one hand down to the hem of my skirt. He glided his fingers back and forth over my skin along the loose hem of my silky dress. I reached back and down, grabbing the sides of his jean-clad thighs, needing something to hold on to.
Then he slid his hand under my skirt and between my legs, finding me bare. He groaned but then kept singing, no one paying any mind to the couple in the dark in the back corner, as he slid one finger through my wetness, then slowly circled my clit. I’d never done anything in public before. I’d never kissed a boy or made out or had sex anywhere but in private. Of course, the guys I’d dated since high school would never dare to do more than hold my hand in public.
But this was Ronan. And here I was, pressed against him, his hand up my skirt, stroking my arousal to the point where I was already breathing heavy, and I didn’t care if the whole place caught on fire. I wasn’t moving, and I sure as hell wasn’t stopping him.
Closing my eyes, I leaned more heavily into his arms, arching my spine so that my backside rubbed against his hard dick. His hand at my ribs slid farther around my belly, holding me tight. I clawed my nails into his jeans, soaking in the sensation of his hands on me, his hard body at my back, his mouth at my ear, singing about need and want and obsession.
When I opened my legs wider, he took the hint, sliding one finger to my entrance where he pumped slowly inside. At this point, I was writhing, desperate to orgasm.
“Are you close, baby?” he whispered in my ear, thrusting slowly, then sliding out to press and circle my clit.
“Yes.” I turned my head to look up at him, his eyes glittering in the dark. “I need you to go faster.”
He dropped his head until our mouths brushed while he slid a second finger inside me. “No, you don’t. Nice and slow.”
“Ronan,” I whispered against his mouth as he continued to torture me with slow slides and easy strokes.
All the while, the band played loud and the crowd never noticed, entirely focused on the stage. It was daring and exhilarating, and I couldn’t believe I was doing it.
“You’re so pretty when you come, Celine.” He kissed me, sliding his fingers deeper and rubbing my clit in that agonizing slow movement, but pressing a little harder. “You’re driving me crazy.”
I reached up and gripped the hair at his nape and held him so I could kiss him hard. I wasn’t going to be able to orgasm like this. Then he stroked his tongue deep and suddenly, I was coming, moaning into his mouth as it ripped through me .
The song was ending and the crowd screamed and cheered, but I was in another world, engulfed by sensation and heady emotion, coming on Ronan’s fingers in the dark.
He stroked his tongue gently against mine, tasting me thoroughly as I continued to come, his fingers working me, my sex pulsing.
I pulled away sharply, gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to mine as he slid his fingers from inside me, cupped my mound, and gave it a light squeeze before removing his hand from beneath my skirt.
Laughing, I whispered, “What was that last squeeze for at the end?”
He wore that sinful grin that made me feel warm and melty. “I’m going to miss her. Had to give her a little hug.”
I laughed, turning to fully face him, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m sure you’ll see her again soon.”
“Is that a promise?” His hands were light and soothing at my waist, one palm rubbing up and down my spine.
I nodded. “You need to go wash your hand.”
“No way.” He shook his head and leaned down to whisper in my ear as the band started up the next song, something harder. “I wanna smell you when I go to bed. When I fuck my fist, I’m gonna inhale deep and think of you when I come.”
I dropped my head forward, pressing my forehead to his chest. “The things you say.”
He chuckled since we’d both been throwing that phrase back and forth a few times.
“Come on.” He took my hand and guided me along the back wall to a narrow staircase, then led me upstairs .
“Where does this go?”
“It’s a little quieter where we can talk,” he called back, finally pulling me to an outdoor space on the second floor.
There was a small bar with a single bartender and a few others laughing around the tall tables scattered across the rooftop.
“Over here,” he said, guiding me to a small booth in the corner.
I slid in, and he slid in on the same side. From here, we had a view of St. Charles Street and the traffic zipping past.
“Oh, you want something to drink?” He started to move back out of the booth.
“No,” I said. “I just want you.”
He stopped and held still. He wrapped both of his hands around one of mine, his gaze dark and serious. “This is pretty intense, Celine.”
“Mm-hmm,” I agreed, unable to say more.
“Has this ever happened to you before?”
“What, exactly? Do you mean have I ever been so into a guy that I can’t stop thinking about him every waking minute of the day?” For some reason, I had zero reservations about laying my feelings on the table. Perhaps that was because I knew he felt the same. Then he proved me right.
He stared with obvious admiration for a few seconds before he said, “Yeah. That’s what I mean.”
“No.” I smiled. “Never.”
“Me neither.”
We sat in silence another minute. He held my hand on his lap, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “So when do I meet this scary dad of yours?”
I laughed. “Not yet. ”
He frowned. “What’s wrong? You don’t think he’ll like me?”
“It’s not that. It’s that I’m afraid he won’t even give you a chance.”
“Your dad is that much of a dick?”
“No. He’s just . . .” I shrugged a shoulder, staring down at our hands. “He’s overprotective.”
Another beat of silence. “What made him that way?”
“What do you mean? He’s a werewolf,” I explained, as if that was obvious. But I knew what he was really asking, my pulse speeding faster.
He leaned back against the booth and raised a hand, brushing my throat with his finger. “Your heart rate is racing, Celine.” He held my gaze, somber and patient. “What is it you aren’t telling me?”
For a moment, all I could do was stare back. He remained quiet, waiting. I’d never told any guy I dated about my high school catastrophe. And while I was embarrassed, still struggling to get over my naiveté, I wanted him to understand.
“When I was a sophomore in high school, I dated this guy. He was a warlock. An Influencer.”
Ronan clamped his jaw, and I wondered if he already knew where this story was going with only a few words.
“He was really nice at first.” I remembered how he was such a gentleman at the beginning, said and did all the right things. “He was a star basketball player on my high school’s team. He was popular, and everyone loved him. It was easy to get swept away by his charm.” Too easy.
Ronan had gone quieter and more still than I’d ever seen him. I couldn’t look at him while I spilled the rest, so I kept my gaze on the traffic below .
“Anyway, things started to change slowly. If I had other plans when he had a game, he’d sort of guilt me into going. I started skipping family things to support him, to be a good girlfriend.”
I scoffed at my stupidity back then.
“Then after one game, I was waiting for him in the parking lot, talking to one of his teammates. We were laughing about something I can’t even remember when my boyfriend came out of the gym and saw us. We weren’t doing anything.”
I swallowed hard, pushing myself to get it all out even while I sensed the old fear tapping at my veins, speeding the blood faster.
“He was really angry. As he was driving me home, he pulled to the side of the road and started yelling, accusing me of cheating on him and fucking his teammate. He called me a slut.” I huffed a bitter laugh. “I was still a virgin. I hadn’t even had sex with him .” Licking my lips, I continued, “He punched the dash so hard it dented. When I fell apart, crying and swearing I hadn’t cheated, begging him to stop, he—” I shook my head at the chilling memory. “He went so cold and calm it was terrifying. He told me to ‘shut up and stop crying.’ He said he just had to scare me to see if I was telling the truth.”
A deep, dark rumble vibrated from Ronan. When I turned to finally look at him again, his blue eyes glowed so pale I knew I was looking at his wolf. I wondered if he had any idea how close his beast was to the surface.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I assured him. “He took me home, and I told my mom what happened.”
“Did you tell your dad?” Ronan’s voice was gruff.
“No. He’d have killed him. Literally.”
“I wish you’d told your dad. ”
I smiled, but Ronan didn’t.
“Anyway, that was definitely the final straw. He’d been pulling me away from my family and friends so slowly, I hadn’t noticed until my mom pointed it out. She warned me that this show of violence was only a precursor of worse. Some men just had this sort of sickness with obsession and violence and control, and he’d never be a good partner.”
“So you broke up with him.”
“Yes. The very next day over the phone.”
“How’d he take it?”
“Not well.” I sighed. “He sent me texts, begging me to come back, apologizing and saying it would never happen again. He’d follow me around school, even when my brothers and cousins had warned him off. Diego even warned him enough to leave him with a black eye.”
“Good,” snapped Ronan.
“But the stalking had gotten even scarier than when I was with him. He’d show up at places when I was out with my friends shopping, just watching me. He’d leave flowers in my locker and in my car.”
“So he was stalking you.”
I nodded, my stomach turning with nausea.
“Then one night, I was doing a witch’s round with my aunts. Do you know what that is?”
“Isn’t that when witches commune with nature or something?”
Ronan didn’t know a lot of witches, it seemed, so I didn’t blame him for not knowing.
“It’s more about connecting with our magic and the Goddess of Nature. We recharge our magic in a witch’s round, infusing energy with each other and nature. I’d been doing it all my life with my aunts. ”
“What happened?”
“Well, in a witch’s round, the Goddess speaks to us, and our magic is often heightened or amplified by our connection to the other witches. And to my aunt Violet. She’s a Seer.”
“A psychic,” he clarified.
“Yes. She’s powerful. She can see the past and possible futures.”
“What did she see?”
“My ex-boyfriend buying a lust potion from a witch who practiced dark magic.”
His eyes flared brighter when he asked roughly, “What does the potion do?”
“They’re illegal,” I explained. “There are some potions, what some might call ‘love’ potions, that only enhance the mutual emotions of a couple who are into each other. They’re legal because they don’t alter someone’s actual feelings. My aunt Clara even makes and sells them. But a lust potion made using dark magic is illegal. It’s more than an aphrodisiac. It alters the one who drinks it, making them desire a particular person whose blood has been mixed into the potion. Even worse, the person who drinks a lust potion will act without their will. They’ll know in their minds they don’t want it, but they won’t be able to help it.”
Ronan’s chest rose and fell faster. “Your aunt saw your ex buying this potion to be used on you.”
I nodded. Ronan finally let go of my hand in his lap and combed both hands through his hair before wiping his hands down his face.
“But he never got to use it,” I quickly told him. “As soon as Aunt Violet had the vision, she told all of us what she’d seen. My aunt Jules took it upon herself as Enforcer to not only find and arrest the witch who created it but also my ex-boyfriend for the buying and possession of an illegal potion with intent to harm. He stood trial in the supernatural court and was convicted, then sentenced to five years in prison on the West Coast. Before he was taken away, my father told him outside the courtroom that if he ever came within one thousand miles of me after his release, he’d kill him.”
Ronan stared toward the street, his profile stark and hard, his aura now more red than pink. “I like your dad.”
Smiling, I realized my dad would like him too. If he gave him a chance.
“Your ex would be out by now. What was his name again?”
“Oh no. I specifically left his name out. No need to worry about him. He lives somewhere in Southern California now.”
“How do you know?”
“I have an uncle who makes supernatural tracking software. Apparently, he keeps tabs. I’m not worried anymore.”
I truly wasn’t. Fortunately, I didn’t come to harm. My family had saved me in more ways than one. After my ex was sent away, they rallied behind me to make me feel safe and well. But it wasn’t quite enough.
“Afterward”—I exhaled a deep breath—“I went to therapy for a while, just to get my mind straight again. That was the one good thing that came out of it. It gives me a new understanding for my clients now, having personal trauma experience and knowing how to cope with crippling anxiety.”
Ronan tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, his eyes having dimmed to a cool blue, the hue somewhere between wolf and man .
“You’re amazing,” he said in a low voice. “You took a nightmare of an experience and found the good in it. You found purpose in it. Only an incredible and strong person could’ve done that.”
There was sadness in his voice and his gaze, and I wondered if he was thinking of his mother. But all I could say was “thank you.”
Then he pulled me close. I instantly wrapped one arm around his waist, my other bent between us as I pressed my cheek to his upper chest. He rubbed a soothing hand up and down my back.
“I get it now. Why your dad is a little nuts about the guys you date.”
“Yeah.” I huffed out a small laugh.
“But I can take it, Celine. Whatever your dad dishes out, I can take it.”
I hugged him tighter and smiled, knowing I’d finally found the one guy who truly could.