Karaoke Chemistry: A Witchy Small Town Romcom (Sacred River Book 2)

15. Riggs

“CURSED?” I PROBABLY say it too loudly, but I can’t find it in myself to care. Even though I mainly want to panic, I’m oddly…peaceful. Then I look down at our hands. “Are you—are you doing something to me right now?”

Her cheeks pinken. “Not really, but sort of?”

I pull my hand away, and instantly, my heart rate increases. I grab her again, and instantly there’s a nudge of calm. “That’s a hell of a trick.”

“Honestly, it never works,” she muses, her eyes on our threaded fingers. When she lifts her gaze, her whiskey eyes are utterly guileless. “You’re changing me, Riggs.”

I think of the way she inadvertently destroyed my room last night. “Is that a good thing?”

Her hand tightens on mine as she swallows, and her voice is husky as she answers, “I don’t know.”

I signal the server to pay, and as we head out, I rest my hand at the small of her back. The spark does its thing, of course, and I go with it.

I hold the car door open for her, then pull her to me before she can slide past. When she looks up, I ask, “Can I take you home?”

She hesitates. “You need to know everything, Riggs.”

She’s right. I know she’s right. Even still, I lean my nose to the curve of her neck, needing a hit of her scent like an addict. “Then tell me there,” I murmur, already knowing that nothing she says is going to change my feelings.

Am I confused as hell? Yes. Does it matter? I don’t think so.

“Magnolia.” I speak softly against her ear. “I’ll be good. I promise.” She shivers against me, gooseflesh rising on her arm. “I promise,” I repeat.

“Okay,” she relents. “But we’re talking before anything else.”

I keep my hand on her thigh as I drive. It’s silky-soft, yielding to my touch, and every cell in my body tells me that this is right. This is what I’m supposed to do. I have to assume there’s nothing magical about it, even though the way her touch calmed me earlier…but no. I was on this path way before now. At the house, I take her hand and lead her inside and to the kitchen. “Drink?”

“Water. I’d like to function in the morning, and it turns out, wine and forty makes that a lot harder to do,” she says ruefully.

I chuckle and hand her the glass. “Wait till you hit fifty,” I wink, then gesture to the living room.

She leads the way and I enjoy the view, watching her hips sway as she moves through the dimly lit house like she belongs here. It’s easy to see, too: we’d come home from school and make dinner together, talk about our days, the kids who were driving us bananas and the ones we were so proud of we could burst. I’d massage her feet while she graded chemistry assignments, and eventually, we’d tumble into bed at some early hour so that we could explore each other’s bodies for ridiculously wonderful lengths of time.

I’m still lost in the fog of possibilities when we sit on the couch and she takes off her shoes with a wince. It’s instinct to pull her feet into my lap and begin to massage one of them. The moan she lets out, her head falling back to reveal a freckle right where her jaw meets neck, makes my dick twitch.

“That is the most exquisite feeling in the world right now,” she whimpers as I press a thumb into the arch of her foot. “Oh my god.”

I grin at her sounds of pleasure, absurdly happy that I can do this for her. That even in the face of her about to tell me things that might completely change everything, we can still do something so normal. “Your feet are tiny.” Another moan escapes as I push her toes back, stretching the foot, then take each toe and rub and pull it.

“Holy shit,” she mumbles.

Now I laugh. “Weren’t you going to tell me all your secrets, Magnolia?”

She heaves a contented sigh, her head still back with her eyes closed. “Say that again, only this time make it a command.”

“What?” I ask, confused. “Why?”

“Because I can’t lie,” she answers, then moans again as I take her foot in both hands and stretch it down, pointing her toes like a ballerina’s. “I mean, I can lie, but Aspen made a wish once that I’d grow moles if I did. My god, your hands are magic.”

My eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Moles? Like, freckle kind of moles?”

“Yep.”

“Your sister cursed you to get moles if you lied? Damn. That’s harsh,” I chuckle. “I grew up an only child, so this is wild.”

“Just do it,” she urges, meeting my gaze. Then she holds up a finger in warning. “If you stop rubbing my feet, I’ll riot.”

So I do it. Searching her beautiful, nearly hypnotic eyes, I say, “Magnolia, tell me all your secrets.”

She blinks slowly and takes a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I think,” I laugh softly, then take her other foot in my hand.

“The reason I can’t sing around anyone is because I’ve been cursed.”

I go still. There’s that word again. Cursed. “Explain.” I start back on her foot at the look she gives me.

“I remember a lot from my earliest years,” she continues. “Most people don’t remember anything before they’re five or so, but I can recall memories as far back as age two. They’re fuzzy, and just outside my reach in terms of true clarity, but the thing I remember most about those early years is how I’d sing with the birds. They’d circle around me as I toddled around outside, and we’d sing together. I couldn’t talk to them or anything, but I could definitely sing with them. I’m not sure if that was my gift, exactly, but I was always at my purest, like I was my whole self, when I sang. And it was like that for many years.”

I press my thumb into the arch of her foot, watching her eyelids flutter in pleasure. “So what changed?”

She shrugs. “That’s what I don’t know. There was a Gathering when I was sixteen, and things started happening to my family if I sang around them after that. Little things at first—they’d drop something, or trip, or some other kind of…mild chaos. Then, it got much, much worse. Aspen fell out of a tree and broke her arm, Willow got an earache so bad she lost hearing for a week, Mom sliced her hand open. The worst one was Clementine. She burned her arm when an experiment she was conducting exploded.”

I’ve slowed down on her foot, but kick back into gear when she finally looks back at me. I don’t know what to say, don’t know if there’s anything to say without sounding like a condescending asshole. But she needs me to speak, for some kind of comfort to come out of my mouth. “I…” I flail. “Jesus, Magnolia. I’ve got nothing. How—” I pause, wondering if I should say it, then dive in anyway. “How can I help?”

At that, her eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, no,” I panic. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Please?—”

“It’s not that,” she cuts me off. “It’s—no one’s ever asked me that. Like, ever.” She chokes out a sob.

My heart twists painfully. It’s clear she’s barely holding herself together, and I can’t take it one more second. I pull her over and into my lap, curling my arms around her and squeezing. How, in a house full of women, has she not found comfort? Because she’s not told them. God. I tighten my hold on her, covering as much of her body with my own as I possibly can. “I’m here, Magnolia. Whatever you need, I’ve got you.”

At that, she loses it, a keening wail erupting from her as she grips my shirt in her hands. I don’t know how much time passes as the grief wracks her, and it doesn’t matter. I hold on tight, pressing my lips to the top of her hair and rocking her as she sobs and cries. I marvel at the reversal, how I’ve gone from worried and tense in the restaurant and needing Magnolia’s physical touch to stay calm, to being the one offering comfort.

“It’s okay,” I murmur against her temple. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t know how, but we’ll figure it out.”

She begins to quiet, and as she takes a shuddering exhale, I thread my fingers through her silky hair. Finally, she whispers. “Thank you.”

“Hey.” I use my finger to tilt her chin up and meet her eyes. This close, they’re flecked with gold, bright with tears and devastatingly beautiful. I am so gone for this woman that it’s not even funny. “Never apologize for that. Letting your emotions show, being brave enough to be vulnerable with me, is a gift that I will never take for granted, Magnolia.”

Her chin wobbles and she sniffs again. “You—you mean that?” Her voice is small, unsure.

I touch my lips to hers, keeping them there as I cradle her head. “One thousand percent, my little witch.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and a lone tear escapes. I kiss it away, and when another appears, I kiss that, too.

“What can I do?” I ask. “Tell me what you need right now. We’ll start there.”

She looks back at me. “Take me to bed.”

“You’re in luck. I’m an expert cuddler.”

“No,” she says, her hand pressing against my chest. “I don’t want to cuddle, Riggs.”

I pull her hands into mine and raise them to my lips, kissing each of her fingertips. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Magnolia. And I want you to know how honored I am that you’ve trusted me with your truths. Your tears. I don’t take any of it for granted. Not any of it.”

Holding my gaze, she wraps her fingers around mine, then slides my palms over her breasts and down her waist. “You’re a wonder, Riggs Finlay.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Wordlessly, she leads the way to the bedroom.

We start slow, peeling off each other’s clothes before standing naked, pressed together, as our hands wander. The only light is from the salt lamp, back in its rightful spot and bathing the room in a gentle peach glow, as I sink to my knees in front of her.

“Riggs.” She breathes my name out, then runs her fingers through my hair.

At first, all I can do is bow my head, overcome with emotions I’m not ready to name, wanting nothing more than to protect her, keep her safe, and bring her every pleasure. I run my hands up the backs of her knees and thighs before grabbing onto her ass and pulling her to me and looking up. “Tell me what you need.”

“You.”

I shake my head. “No, Magnolia. You already have me. Now tell me what you need.”

She hesitates, so I lean my mouth close to her pussy and breathe gently on it. I don’t touch. “Make me come,” she whispers. “With your mouth. Make me come.”

“With pleasure.” I press my nose to her and inhale. She smells so fucking good. And when I taste her, spreading her apart for my tongue, she’s so damn sweet. I lick and suck, taking my time to tease her, to learn what she likes and what she loves.

“Bed,” she gasps, taking the two steps back and onto the bed.

I stand and watch, taking in her body as she situates herself on the mattress and looks back at me. I pump my cock once, needing the relief, and her eyes darken as she watches. “You like that?”

She wets her lips. “You are incredibly sexy.”

“No, Magnolia—that’s you.” I crawl onto the bed and kneel once more before her. “Spread for me.”

Her eyes sparkle, all sadness gone for now, and I feel like a goddamn hero. I’ve not even gotten started.

I descend, taking her pussy into my mouth like a starved man, and dive in. I use only my tongue, reaching up to gather her breasts in each of my hands and squeezing. Her pelvis lifts, and I go with it, sucking on her clit as I pinch her nipples. She jerks and gasps, and I take her to the brink. Bringing my hands back to cradle her thighs, I lick and suck until she’s writhing beneath me, her legs clenched around my ears.

“Riggs,” she whines. “Please.”

That’s my cue to stop. I ease up, letting her feel the heat of my breath for a moment, then taking a lazy lick of her.

“What—fuck, what are you doing?”

I can’t help the grin. I know she’s fully lost control when she starts cussing. “You asked me to make you come.”

“Right,” she breathes, her chest heaving. “So do it. Make me come.”

I take another lick up her center, swirling my tongue once, twice around her clit. Feeling her tense. Then I stop. “I will. When it suits me.”

The whine that escapes her is almost enough to make me come. And even though I’d give anything to sink into her, feel her warm and wet and beautifully tight around me, it’s not time.

Magnolia brings a hand to my hair and threads her fingers in, then yanks. “Make. Me. Come.”

I shake my head. “Not yet.” I travel kisses from her hip to her soft belly, up to her breast. We moan together as I pull a nipple into my mouth, and she wraps her arms and legs around me.

“Fuck, Riggs,” she groans, her voice deep and sexy. “That feels so good.”

I swivel my lips, my cock sliding against her wetness as my eyes roll back in my head. She bucks beneath me, chasing her pleasure, and I let her get close again. Right when her rhythm starts to unravel, I lift my hips and pop off her breast.

Her eyes open and find mine. “Riggs.”

“Never been edged before, have you, sweetheart?” I smirk.

She’s breathing quickly and her nails dig into my back. “Please,” she exhales roughly. “Please.”

I slide back down her body, worshiping her pale skin, finding and kissing every freckle on her stomach, then her thighs, before finally bending her knees and spreading them as far as they can go.

I look up at her. “Tell me something, Magnolia.”

Her eyes meet mine.

“How many times have you come in one night?”

“Fuck,” she breathes out, her body flushed, her hair tangled on the pillow beneath her head. She’s beautiful. Devastating.

I run a finger down her thigh, then skate it over where she’s desperate to be touched before running it up the other thigh. “Answer me. How many times?”

“Last—” she swallows. “Last night.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Four?”

She jerks her head in a nod as her hips swirl, seeking friction.

“How many times do you want to come tonight?” I ask.

“As many times as you’ll let me.”

A slow smile spreads across my face. “Oh, now that was the perfect answer.” I lean down and lick her, delighting in the sharp intake of her breath. The sweet taste of her pussy. Her arousal. “And since it was so perfect,” I lick her again, swirling my tongue around her clit a little harder than before, “I’m going to let you have your first orgasm.”

With that, I increase the pressure, bearing down precisely where I’ve learned she needs it. In seconds, her body tenses, her legs fighting to clamp together from where I’ve got them spread.

Above me, she groans. Her hands grasp for purchase, one finding my hair and another digging into the mattress. I loosen my grip on her legs, and she bucks and writhes, her hips undulating as I suck. Finally, on a guttural moan, she comes, her thighs clenched around my head, her hand pulling at my hair. As she comes down, I ease up, and finally, she relaxes, her legs and arms going limp.

I wipe my mouth on the sheets and kiss my way up her body, noting the flush that’s spread across her breasts, her chest, and her neck. “You,” I kiss her shoulder and lick up to just beneath her ear, “are exquisite.”

She brings my mouth to hers, demanding and gentle at once. I settle between her legs, and again she wraps herself around me in what’s quickly becoming my favorite position. We’re pretzeled together, a tangle of limbs and tongues, and as she scrapes her nails down the back of my head and neck, I shudder with pleasure.

“God, Riggs, I—” she stops, unsure.

“Talk to me,” I urge.

After a moment, she says, “I need you. Need this.” Keeping her golden-flecked eyes on mine, she reaches between us to wrap her hand around my cock. “Inside me. Please.”

I shift so I can grab a condom, fully intent on giving Magnolia whatever she wants, but she tightens around me.

“No. I don’t want anything between us. I need all of you,” she says.

“Are you sure? I’ve never?—”

“Me neither. I’m sure.” She widens her legs and guides me to her entrance.

And that’s it. I’m done for. When I slide into her, the bliss that surrounds me is out of this world. “Fuck, sweetheart,” I moan, letting my forehead rest against her collarbone. “Oh my god.”

It takes everything in me not to say the words that demand to be let out.