Fake Dating a Witch

Chapter 29

GRANT

Cornfield. Cornfield. Cow pasture. Cornfield. Too many damn cornfields. It feels like I”ve been driving past cornfields forever and I”m never going to get to Owl Cove.

It”s been six days since Hazel Goode showed up on my doorstep. And a hell of a week it”s been.

I”ve spent a lot of time this week talking shit out with Leslie, with Kelsey, with my mom, even with Tyler. Every one of them agrees that, for years, I”ve been living in the shadow of my dad”s disapproval. Mom says she feels guilty for that, so she and I will have to work on that when I get home. She absolutely should not feel any responsibility for how I carried my dad”s memory with me. That”s entirely on me.

And on Friday, I did it. I went to the residency office on campus, and I withdrew from my program. Not a medical leave, a full withdrawal. As in, I”ve cut off my surgery career.

It was surprisingly easy. Almost suspiciously so. Now it”s done. I”m unenrolled.

I”m free.

I want to roll down my windows and whoop with delight. I haven”t felt this good in weeks. Months, even. Years, maybe? Yeah, I felt pretty close when I was with Sirona, but the end was always there, looming. The end brought on by my surgery career.

Now, I have nothing holding me back. I haven”t exactly figured out what I”m going to do next. My tentative, half-assed plan is to try to do a new residency as a general practitioner. Probably in Madison, since it”s the closest medical school to Owl Cove. Minneapolis would also be an option, though a little longer drive.

Either way, it”s only three years. And hopefully I could do my actual practice in a clinic closer to Owl Cove, so I wouldn”t be driving all the way to Madison every day. But even if I can”t, again, it”s three years. That”s nothing in the course of the lifetime I intend to spend in Owl Cove.

With Sirona.

My whole body hums with excitement and love. I am so ridiculously, wildly, head-over-heels, all the other adjectives, in love with her. And I”m going straight to her house to tell her. I can”t keep it in any longer.

Not that I have. Everyone else already seems to know. She probably does too. The same way she has never told me, but I”m certain she loves me.

I can”t wait to see her beautiful face when I say those words to her.

If I ever get out of these damn cornfields. I chose the back highway instead of the interstate for the last leg of the drive because it”s only a few minutes longer and the scenery is much nicer. Except I forgot how much of it is just cornfields. Broken up by the occasional small town. Smaller than Owl Cove.

Then there it is. The turnoff to the county highway that runs through downtown Owl Cove. The sign with the arrow pointing left, announcing the town is in three miles.

Which means the turnoff to Sirona”s is two miles. And at sixty-five miles per hour, that”s less than two minutes.

Less than two minutes until the most important moment of my life.

Farmhouses whiz by. The entrance to warehouses owned by OmniGenQuest Technologies. And off to the right, Goode Lane. The gravel road that will take me to my destiny.

Wow, OK, getting a little dramatic in my own head.

I turn my SUV slowly. It”s packed with all the things I absolutely need with me. Sometime soon, Sirona and I can go to Chicago for a weekend and pack up the rest of my things. Probably sell most of the furniture. Put my townhouse on the market.

A frisson of excitement sizzles through me. I”m really, truly doing this. There”s no turning back. And I”m not even entertaining the possibility that she”ll turn me down.

Her bike is in the driveway when I pull in. A good sign. Koko is napping on the top step of the porch, and the front door is open behind the screen door. She has to be home.

Heart pounding, I get out of the car. I take a moment to scratch Koko”s head, and she gives me what I think is a confused look. I don”t know cats very well. Then I take the four steps in two strides, another two steps to the door.

And I pause. Take a deep breath to settle my nerves. This is Sirona.

Shit. This is Sirona. This is everything.

I press the doorbell and hear it buzz inside.

From somewhere in the house I hear, ”Evan, I said I don”t want to go to Brewitches tonight, I”m too?—”

She comes into view through the screen and stops when she sees me.

”Not Evan.” I hold up my hands.

”No.” Her tone is breathless. She doesn”t step closer to the door. ”No, not Evan.”

After a long moment of her staring at me, I say, ”You wanna come out and talk to me for a minute?”

She still looks surprised I”m here. ”Uh, yeah. Sure.”

She comes outside, wearing one of her sexy AF sundresses. This one is green with big blue flowers, and the green makes her eyes almost seem to glow. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her. Forever.

But I suppose we should talk first.

”What are you doing here?” she asks. Her gaze roams my face.

I love the feeling of her drinking me in. ”I”m home.”

”Like, for the weekend?” She crosses her arms under her breasts and takes a step back. As if protecting herself. ”Didn”t we say we weren”t?—”

”For good,” I interrupt. ”I”m home for good, Sirona.”

She looks almost pained. ”No. No, don”t say things like that if...” She”s shaking her head and tears fill her eyes.

I have to touch her. I can”t stand here and let her cry and not comfort her. I move toward her and cup her cheek with my hand. My thumb brushes away the first escaped tear.

”I”m serious. I withdrew from my residency program yesterday. I don”t want to be a surgeon. Not anymore.” I lean down and touch my forehead to hers. ”I”m not sure I ever really did.”

Her hands come to my sides, fisting my t-shirt, her fingers grazing me. It”s the most arousing touch I”ve ever felt.

”You”re... you”re really here?”

I can”t help myself, I brush my lips over hers and wind my other arm around her back, pulling her against me. ”I”m really here. And I”m not going anywhere.”

”But what are you... I mean, what about medicine?”

”I haven”t figured it all out yet. But I will. We will. Together. My first thought is another residency next year, in general practice. Probably in Madison. I can figure out a way to do that from here.” The words come out quickly; I don”t want her to have a chance to interrupt.

She kisses me. A hard, possessive press of lips to lips, she slides her arms around my back and kisses me. Her tongue teases along the seam of my mouth and with a groan, I let her in.

With her face so close to mine, I can feel the tears dampening her cheeks. I want to comfort her, to ask why she”s still crying. But I can”t stop kissing her. She tastes like everything I”ve ever wanted in my entire life. She tastes like home.

Because Sirona is home.

SIRONA

He”s here. He”s really, truly here.

And even better, he”s telling me he”s staying. I don”t think it”s sunk in yet, but there”s time. Right now, I just want to keep kissing him. Forever.

But he pulls back. Just a little. Just enough to whisper across my swollen lips. ”I love you, Sirona Goode. I love you so much and I don”t ever want to be apart from you again.”

The tears flow freely now, but I laugh. These are suddenly tears of joy. ”I love you too, Grant Humphries. So much.”

He kisses me this time, relearning the shape and feel of my mouth against his. Of my body sinking into his.

A thought pops into my head and I pull back enough to say, ”I quit my job. On Monday.”

When he leans back to see my face, he”s grinning. ”Really? That”s great. I”m proud of you.”

I glow from head to toe under his praise. ”I”m going to start my own little practice. First I”m taking time off to figure out all the logistics.”

”Maybe, somewhere down the road, we can have that practice together that we talked about.”

I feel expansive, so many possibilities. And all of them with Grant by my side. ”I”d love that.”

”I love you.” He kisses my neck, sending tingles shooting all through me.

”I love you too,” I murmur breathlessly as he continues to nibble on my skin.

He tightens his arms around me, pulling me even closer. Pressing his fully aroused cock against me. ”I need you.”

It”s broad daylight, the middle of the afternoon. Anyone could come by at any moment. But I have a secluded house for a reason.

I turn us and back him toward the couch. We stand in front of it, and I slide my hand down the front of his elastic-waist shorts and into his boxer briefs. His cock is warm and solid as I fist it.

His neck goes limp, and he groans. ”Fuck, that”s so good.”

I debate dropping to my knees and taking him in my mouth. I”m almost drooling at the prospect of sucking him off.

But no. I need him inside me. Later, when we have the patience to climb the stairs to my room, we can explore every inch of each other. Get reacquainted. Right now, I need a good, hard fuck. To assure me he”s really here. That he”s really mine.

I release his cock to shove his clothes down his legs. He needs no encouragement and drops down onto the couch.

I reach up under my skirt to yank off my panties, then toss them in his lap. He picks them up, grinning, and holds them to his face.

”I can”t wait to get my mouth on your pussy.”

The pussy in question gets even wetter, throbbing with need.

”Later. Right now I need you.”

”I love to hear that.”

He helps me climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. We arrange my skirt around us; if someone were to come upon us, they”d clearly know what we”re doing, but at least they wouldn”t get a graphic view of it.

His cock throbs against my belly and I rock against him, rubbing my clit against his shaft.

We both groan. He stretches up to kiss me, his tongue thrusting fiercely into my mouth. His fingers tangle into my hair as I rub against him shamelessly, balancing my hands on his shoulders.

His free hand yanks down the top of my dress, then palms my breast, trapping the nipple between two fingers. Pleasure arrows straight to my clit.

Through the fog of lust, something occurs to me. I pull away from his kiss to say, ”Your hand.”

Frowning, he asks, ”What about it?”

”I... I don”t know if you can keep it healed.” My hips still. This is an awkward time to have this conversation, but it needs to be had. ”The thing I had to sacrifice for the magic to work was you.” Tears fill my eyes. For one panicked moment, I wonder if he”ll choose his hand over me.

He glances at the appendage in question. Strokes his other fingers over the smooth, flawless skin. His face is serious when he looks back up at me. ”You sacrificed me, gave me what I wanted no matter how much it hurt you, so you could heal my hand? Oh, Sirona, I had no idea.”

I nod, unable to speak with the emotions clogging my throat. I need him to say it doesn”t matter, that his hand doesn”t matter. That I”m more important.

His gaze flicks to his hand again, then back to me. ”So my hand will go back to how it was if we”re together again?”

I nod again. ”I”m almost certain.”

He cups my cheek, a fierce grip on me. ”Babe, are you worried I”m not going to stay with you because of this?”

One more nod, and a tear slips out of my eye.

His face crumples into sympathy. ”Sirona, I love you more than anything. Certainly more than my hand.” He shrugs. ”I was getting pretty good at working around the limitations. I can do that again.”

I close my eyes as powerful emotion sweeps through me.

”I love you too much to let anything come between us.”

”I love you too.” I press my lips, damp with tears, to his.

The kiss starts tender, gentle, then turns fierce and passionate. I”m filled with both love and hunger.

”I need to be inside you. So badly.” He rocks his hips so his cock strokes me.

The pleasure is white hot. So intense.

I reach under my dress and fist him at the root. Angle him just right, and slowly lower myself onto him. In one long, gentle, sexy glide, he”s inside me. My pelvis presses to his.

”I”ve missed this so much.” He pulls my forehead down to his, his breath fanning my face.

”Me too.”

”Can we just sit here like this forever?”

My laugh is broken. ”That would be wonderful.

But soon it”s too much. I need to move. Slowly, I lift up, then drop back down on him. He buries his face in my breasts, his fingers digging into my hips. When he pulls my nipple into his mouth, it”s all too much. My pleasure bursts into fireworks detonating throughout my body. I cry out his name as the bliss rockets through me. And he only sucks harder at my nipple, prolonging the waves as they take me away.

And when I come back to him, he”s grunting with every thrust up into me. ”Again. I need you to come again.” He takes the other breast into his mouth, sucking hard. And the arousal builds again, spreading out from my clit to engulf my entire body.

I kiss his ear, his temple, his forehead. Anywhere I can reach. From nowhere, words come out of my mouth. ”You”re moving in with me.” It”s a statement, not a question.

”Obviously,” he says around a mouthful of tit.

That logistic taken care of, I ride him even harder. Faster than I knew my hips could move. The orgasm climbs and shatters me. I arch into him, my head thrown back, hair trailing down my back and adding an extra sensual sensation.

A moment later he snarls my name and comes inside me. My spasming pussy milks him, as we both lose ourselves to bliss and love. Because this may be mildly crude fucking, but it”s also lovemaking. With Grant, it will always be lovemaking.

Panting, I collapse against his heaving chest. We gulp in lungfuls of air, slowly coming back to ourselves. I can feel him softening inside me, and in this position I can feel his cum dripping out of me onto his thighs. It”s crass, yet sexy at the same time.

Long moments later, he says, ”You were right.”

With great effort, I lift my head to see his face. ”About what? Also, you should accept that I”m pretty much always right.”

He chuckles. ”Noted.”

His hand moves between us. The scars are back, the swelling, the out-of-place bones misshaping it.

I take it between the two of mine. ”Oh,” is all I can say. I didn”t expect it would happen quite so soon. Or in such a moment. I guess the deities can see that this sex was us sealing our lives together. It was not just a joining of bodies.

”What are you feeling right now?” I ask.

His hands grip my hips, thumbs digging into me. ”Amazing.”

”You”re really OK with this?” I don”t want him ever to regret trading a functional hand for me.

”Of course. It”s not even a choice.” His hands come up and cup my face, pulling me down to kiss him. His lips are hard and possessive and fierce against mine.

”It”s you, Sirona. Always you. Forever.”

Thankyou for reading Sirona and Grant’s story. I hope you enjoyed it!

Stay tuned for Morgan and Zach’s story, Hating a Witch, book 2 in the Bewitching Billionaires series.

He thinks I’m a con artist. I think he’s insufferable. So why can’t I stop fantasizing about him?

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