Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
“Witches’ broomsticks!”
Both Horatio and I dive for the covers.
“They’ve come to arrest me,” I hiss by Horatio’s ear. “They’ve finally worked out what I’ve been up to and they’re here to haul me in front of a judge and it’ll be all over the Witching Times and my mum will disown me and then they’ll lock me up and throw away the key and–”
“Oh my! Oh, my goodness!” a voice squeals from the other side of my bedroom, interrupting my rambling despair.
The voice does not belong to my older sister – thank all those lucky stars in the galaxy. Nor does it belong to an officer who sounds like they’re about to handcuff me. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“I had no idea,” the voice continues. “We had a report of another … oh my, oh my.”
I peer out from under the sheet. It’s another Magical Enforcement Officer – the same one who gatecrashed our last little hook-up.
“Oh,” she says, “it’s you again. If I’d realised … but it’s a different address.”
“Don’t worry. You’re right, it’s a completely different address. You couldn’t have known.”
“Oh gosh,” she says, spinning on the spot, clicking her pen frantically, and taking a step forward and then a step backwards, making me dizzy with her distressed little movements.
“It really is fine,” I tell her.
“It’s just – when I go back, I’ll be in so much trouble.” She blinks hard and I can see tears pooling in her eyes.
“I’m sure we can sort this all out. Whatever the problem is, I’m sure we can find a solution,” I tell her, even though I’m the one who could be facing a massive fine or jail time. I have no idea what her problem is or what the solution could be. I really hope it isn’t arresting me.
I pass Horatio a pillow for his modesty, then, wrapping the sheet around my body, scuttle to the end of the bed and walk over to the officer who is now on the brink of hyperventilating.
I rest a hand on her shoulder. “Just breathe,” I tell her. She looks up at me with startled eyes. “In and out,” I say. “In and out.”
She follows my instructions, and slowly her shoulders begin to relax and her breathing to settle. However, she still looks as if she could fall into a panic attack at any moment.
“How about a nice cup of tea?” I say. “I think I may even have some biscuits lying around. Horatio, would you mind?” I peer over at him.
“Sure,” he says. “But could you just–”
“Oh yeah, right.”
I manoeuvre the officer so the two of us are staring at the wall and have our backs to Horatio. We hear the mattress groan, him rifling through his clothes, then his footsteps on the floorboards and the door shutting behind us.
The officer’s shoulders loosen a little more now the giant naked man has left the room.
“I’m so sorry,” she says again.
“Honestly,” I say, “these things happen. Although they never used to happen to me. But do you think someone could, you know, make a note of it in my file so it doesn’t keep happening?
” If I’m going to enjoy the best sex of my life, I’d like to do it without constant interruptions from the authorities.
“Absolutely,” she says, grimacing. “I should have done it after last time. That’s why I’m going to be in trouble.
I forgot. There’s just so much work and I fell behind and,” the tears are falling down her face now and, despite the inconvenience of this interruption, I can’t help feeling sorry for her, “you’re not going to make a formal complaint, are you?
” Her face is suddenly struck with terror.
“Me?” I shake my head. “I’ve never made a formal complaint in my entire life. I wouldn’t know how.”
“Thank you.” She sniffs and wipes the back of her hand across her wet face.
“Here,” I say, beginning to lead her towards the bed, then spotting the mattress and its ruffled-up sheets, swerving her away towards the stool at my dressing table instead. I push her down onto it and offer her a box of tissues.
She takes a handful and blows her nose loudly, and I use the opportunity to hop across the room and slide myself into a dressing gown. Then I come back to her, perching on the edge of my bed.
“We all make mistakes,” I tell her, “and these things happen. Trust me, they’ve happened to me about a billion trillion times.”
I’m almost tempted to tell her how I ended up in bed with such a hottie in the first place. I almost confess my sin of the exploding love potion. But I’m not that stupid. She may be crying and sniffling in my bedroom, but she’s still a Magical Enforcement Officer.
“I’m surprised you’re not already marked on the file,” she says, dabbing her eyes. “This seems to happen to you a lot.”
“Oh, it’s only started happening a lot recently.”
The officer’s eyes dart towards the bedroom door and, now she’s calmer, fill with curiosity.
“Have you just started seeing each other, then?” she asks me.
“Yes. It’s all pretty new,” I explain.
“And it never happened to you before you met him?”
I shake my head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had lots of great sex, but not great like this kind of sex.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had great sex,” the officer says, and starts crying all over again.
“Oh dear,” I say, a little confused. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is,” she wails into her tissue. “The sex with my partner is just awful. I’ve barely even orgasmed.”
“Maybe, you just haven’t met the right guy.”
This is not how I envisioned my roll about on the mattress with Mr Hottie ending. No, I did not expect to find myself giving counselling advice to a Magical Enforcement Officer I’ve only met once before, briefly.
“And sex isn’t everything,” I add, not really believing that for a moment.
“I don’t know what we’re doing wrong.” She peers up at me from behind her tissue, her lashes wet with tears. “Why is it so good with that guy? What’s been the difference?”
“Well,” I say, “you have seen him, right? He’s incredibly hot. And I’m really into him. And all that helps a lot.”
“Clinton’s good looking. He has a really cute smile. And I am into him. So it can’t be that.”
“Right,” I say, struggling – where the hell is Horatio and that cup of tea? “Well, how exactly are you doing it? I mean… there’s got to be a build-up, a warm-up, just like any other form of exercise.”
“What do you mean?” she says, wide-eyed and innocent.
“Erm,” I hesitate then think – what the heck – and decide to dive right in. “You’re doing all the kissing and the touching and all that stuff?” She keeps looking at me while I die inside. “Is he putting any effort into making you come?”
“I think he’s doing his best,” she says, still snivelling.
“Yes, yes, but is he touching you? Is he taking the time to eat you out?”
“Eat me out?!” she squeaks.
“Yes. You know, eat you out.”
It takes her a minute. I really wonder where this woman gained her sex education. I guess it wasn’t exactly on the syllabus at the Witching Academy.
“Oh. Eat me out!” she says, realisation dawning across her face. Then she frowns. “No, he’s never done that.”
I clap my hands together. “Ha! That’s it. If he’s not putting in the time and effort to do that, then …” I shrug.
“I don’t think he’d want to,” she snots.
“If he loves you, if he’s into you, he will. You’ve just got to be brave enough to ask.”
The woman dabs her eyes again and nods.
“And then you think I’ll…” She mimes an explosion with her hands.
“You never know,” I say. “Although maybe you could warn your colleagues first so that you don’t get any interruptions.”
The officer cringes. “So sorry,” she says again.
Fortunately, I’m saved having to dole out any further sex advice by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I say.
Horatio strides in, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers and looking so hot that I could faint from heat exhaustion.
“I have your tea.”
“Thank you,” the officer says, rising to her feet. “But I think I’d better go. I’ve already intruded enough on your time.” She turns to me. “I will make sure your file’s marked.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she says, and then she vanishes.
Horatio comes to sit down beside me on the bed and for a moment we’re silent. Then he takes a sip of tea before passing the mug to me.
“Are we always going to get interrupted like this every time we’re doing it?”
“Are we doing it again, then?” I ask innocently.
He takes the mug from my hand, places it on the dressing table, then pushes me down onto the mattress, unravelling my dressing gown, and climbing between my legs.
“Yes, Molly,” he says. “We’re doing it again.”
And I have to confess, I can’t help squealing in delight.