Chapter 4

Four

Nothing crosses my wards in the night, and the wolves are curled up in various places around my bedroom when I wake the next morning.

The group chat the guys added me to kept me up later than I expected and as I stretch beneath the warm blankets, I think about one of the last things Johnny said.

It's why he's the one I text after a quick good morning to the group.

Hey, beautiful. Does this mean you want me to come over as promised?

He adds a gif of a cartoon wolf with hearts bulging from its eyes.

I might.

You don't have to play hard to get. I've already licked every inch of your sexy body.

It makes me laugh, so I don't put up any more of a fight. I give him the address and a time as a response, even though I have a feeling Joshua already gave them the former.

The gravel outside crunches five minutes before the time specified and I glance out the window, (just to make sure) before I step onto the porch.

Johnny hops down from his truck—a beat up old SUV from the seventies that has a little plaque on the grill that says "International." It looks like he loves the big orange thing.

"You definitely are off the beaten path. I missed your driveway the first time past."

"That's kind of the point." I smile as I read his shirt. It's the one I wore yesterday morning. "The four of you aside, There's no one in town I want dropping by."

He stops short and looks over the wolves lounging on the front porch. " Those should keep the locals away."

"Most people can't see them. Witches and wolves and all other manner of non-normals, but your average human won't see them." That wasn't strictly true. They might catch glances of the wolves in their periphery, but trying to actually see them wouldn't bear fruit.

One hops down and goes to him, nose raised and twitching.

"That one's yours."

"It looks like me."

I manage to laugh quietly as I nod back toward the house. "Let's get inside before I freeze my toes off."

He looks down at my bare feet and his gaze turns to a glare. "None of us want that."

Striding across the gravel to me, he scoops me up and carries me back inside. But he lets me down as soon as the door closes behind us.

The wolves are already back in the kitchen.

"How was the rest of your day?" I ask as he takes off his boots and sets them on the mat by the door.

"Oh, you know… The usual post-werewolf sex magic Sunday. Mrs. Miller came back. She was clearly checking to be sure you were gone. Then she let us know her granddaughters will be coming to stay with her. On a permanent basis."

"I wonder if they know she's trying to sell you their virginity? I assume she assumes they are, nevermind whether it's true."

"She told me her Victoria will be just my type. Which is weird, since she brought over a picture of them and I literally cannot tell the difference between them."

"Poor Mrs. Miller. I'm sure she just wants some strapping young men to provide her granddaughters with protection and probably her with some great grandbabies too."

"She's welcome to want… I've got no plans to take even an ounce of my attention away from you." He scoops me up again, kissing me so sweetly it makes me shiver.

They're all distracting enough to be dangerous. That's why I don't wrap my arms around his neck and cling tight to him. When he releases me, I slide to the floor and turn away, licking my kiss swollen lips as I head for the counter and my discarded tea.

"Coffee?" I ask. "Tea? I have water or cider as well. But there have been some distractions that have kept me from getting to the market."

"I'm fine, thank you."

I take a long drink of my tea before I ask, "Why aren't you at work?"

"I assume you know what I do. Since you stalked us all." He backs me up to the counter, a hand on either side of me.

"Animal control." I say, not even pretending to be offended by the stalker comment. "Is that how you wound up Changed?"

"Yep. An occupational hazard no one warned me about." His smile is rueful. "But, I'm not at work today, because I got a week's administrative leave after I threatened the mayor's kid's life."

The mayor's son was in his late forties and lived on the far side of town. He felt like a politician, even though he never would be, so I avoided him as a general rule.

"That doesn't sound like you." Gentle giant was never going to describe Johnny when he's awake, but he's not a brute either.

"I'm a different person when it comes to people who abuse animals.

"Guy got pit bulls from God knows where last month and he's using them as guard dogs… but he's definitely not feeding them. And they don't have proper shelter. If I could take them away, I would, in a heartbeat. But my boss is afraid of the Mayor and so, doing my job got me a mark in my file and a suspension."

"I don't like your boss."

I wince and he brushes his lips against mine as if telling me no in a shiver-inducing way.

"Me either." He tips his head down, nose tapping mine. "You know who I do like?"

I could give him the answer he wants, or kiss him—he wouldn't object to that either—but why do that, when I can have some fun.

With the most innocent face I can manage, I say, "Victoria?"

He blinks at me for a second, as though he's forgotten who Victoria is. And then he tips his head back as if begging the almighty for patience.

It won't help.

"I'm sure they're all very nice girls. And we are trying to be nice to Mrs. Miller about all of this, but if you keep teasing me like that, I may have to take a trip next door when I get home and let her know exactly how little chance her granddaughters have with me, or any of the others."

A sound like falling sand echoes behind him and all I have to do is glance over his shoulder. He turns bodily.

"What is that?" He glares at himself in the reflection. All he'll see is an overly ornate black-glass mirror.

"It's an ephemera glass." I say, watching him, instead of the words coalescing on the dark glass. "Basically a witches message board."

"That's cool." He moves as though he might go to it and I catch his arm.

The last thing I need is my mother seeing him. "It is, but its read receipts are a little more detailed than a text. If you tried to read what it says, the witch who sent it would see you and probably come try to gobble you up."

"Are you saying you have bad witches on speed dial?" He smiles, teasing.

"Of course. And not everyone knows how delightful werewolves can be." I pull his face back to mine for a long kiss. And when I break it, I say. "I don't want to share you yet."

"If there's any sharing, we would collectively like it to stay within the group."

I smile against his lips and keep my thoughts to myself.

Because everyone thinks dating a witch is cool until they find crows feet in their refrigerator, or drink the wrong cup of coffee, or start to get paranoid that she's just using them for sex magic.

No single man has stuck around for longer than a few weeks. I can't imagine keeping four of them for longer.

So, I smile and I let him drag me against him, and I forget just how temporary this will all be.

"What," he asks as he takes two steps back, putting some distance between us. "Would you be doing today, if you weren't entertaining a gentleman caller."

When I laugh at his choice of words and shoot him a glance, he shrugs. "I've put in my hours with the classic movie nights."

One of the local theaters was built in the twenties and had the Egyptian themed decor of the time. When the multi-screen complex opened up near the now-defunct mall, it had switched back to live performances and showing classic movies from the reels of dusty films someone had found in the basement.

And they'd created a ‘gotta catch em all' style game to get more people to come in.

"Does that mean you have your passport checked off?"

"Nope. I'm about six shy." He reaches for my hand, sliding his fingers over my wrist. "And you haven't answered my question."

"On a day like today," I glance out the window, at the pale gray sky and the silhouette of birds. "I probably would get lost in the woods foraging. It won't start raining until after the sun has set."

He hums and looks out the window too. "I know better than to go mushroom picking. But I guess you'd know all the good ones and the bad ones."

I nod. "And I pick both."

Leaving him by the counter, I go to the ephemera glass and press one finger to it, an icy chill running down my spine, but it's just my mother, continuing to worry about the Carraway plot.

With a heavy sigh, I press the glass again. "She was resting peacefully when I left. Let her stay dead."

It disappears in a wisp, and I turn back to an amused smile from Johnny.

"Mothers are allowed to worry," he says. "It's part of their job description."

I don't ask how he knows it's my mom.

I finish the last of my tea and set the mug in the sink before taking his hand and pulling him into the conservatory. It has the most comfortable couch.

But as soon as we step inside, his nose twitches. He doesn't even look at the tall windows or the plants.

"You and Joshua had some fun in here."

"It's been days, how could you possibly still smell that?"

"If it had been someone else, I might not have. But I've known Josh a very long time." He drags me back into his arms. "Hell, if it had been Thomas, I might not have known."

In a twisting dance of a motion, Johnny pulls me down to the couch with him, artfully arranging me so I straddle him, but before he kisses me again, his brow pinches as he looks at something to his right.

"Is that… what I think it is?"

I look over my shoulder and see what's caught his attention. The vial is still where I left it after Joshua's visit. "I mean… probably?"

"No wonder I could still smell him in here."

"It can be useful." I say, sliding my hands up, over his shoulders. "For certain things."

"Good things? Or bad things?"

I settle on him. "Only good."

"What kind of good?"

"That is a secret I'll never tell." With a laugh, I nod to the basket of vials. "Do you want to make a donation as well?

"Careful, a guy might think you're just using him for his body."

I don't know if I flinched, or if something in my expression or body gave me away, but he freezes. "What did I say?"

Shaking my head, I brush my nose against his. "There have been others who have thought that."

"I don't. I was just teasing." He puts a finger under my chin and nudges my face up. "Whoever they were, I'm not them. We're not them."

"No, you guys definitely aren't." I force myself to relax against him. "I've never dated werewolves before."

"And we've never dated a witch… or the same woman at once. We're going to make mistakes, but we'll figure it out. I promise you that. All four of us are highly motivated to make this work."

This time, when he kisses me, he twists us, dropping me onto my back on the couch, and slides to the floor.

"I had the most delicious dream last night." His hands ghost up my legs, fingers pressing my skirt back. "It left me wondering what I'd find under these skirts you wear so well."

"Just a little bit further, and you'll know." I shiver as his fingers tighten on my thighs. But instead of heading closer to my core, he pulls back, and I whimper at the loss.

"I'm a visual learner." He flips my skirt up to my waist, his eyes devouring me. "And I do like what I see… did you wear them just for me?"

"What do you think?"

He slips his fingers over and into the emerald green lace, "I think this might be my new favorite color."

He pulls them down my legs with agonizing slowness. Fingers sliding over skin that's too sensitive, knowing the treat that waits for me.

This teasing torture makes me wonder if I shouldn't have just left them off this morning. But the way he watches me…

I would let this man undress me every day to be looked at like that.

When he slips the lacy garment over my feet and lets them drop to the floor, I don't make him press my legs open. I widen them for him, scooting lower on the couch. Giving him complete access… complete control.

The growl that rumbles through him sends shivers over me, and I have to press my lips together to keep from letting go of the strange giggle in my chest.

His focus is so pinpoint sharp, he doesn't notice.

"No, this is definitely my new favorite color."

He looks up at me with a quick and sinful grin. And then, he buries his face between my legs.

He spreads me, fingers questing, tongue delving to make me arch and shiver beneath his ministrations.

"Holy sh—!"

His hands slip under my ass, lifting me, pressing me closer, harder to his mouth.

"You are good at this."

He hums in agreement. "I like to be good at things I love."

If that's the case, Johnny definitely loves eating pussy. He's a master at it, and I fist my hands in the fabric of my skirt so I don't take hold of his head. Not yet.

But if he tries to stop…

"Fuck me, you taste all kinds of wicked." This time, he bites the inside of my thigh. "And that's what you are, isn't it? My wicked girl."

"Right now, I'll be anything you want, as long as you don't stop."

He chuckles against me before licking me in one long stroke. "It would take a higher power to get me to stop."

Johnny works over me with teeth and tongue, his fingers gripping my thighs to hold me close against him.

Warmth fills me, crawling up and through me like the tendrils of a spell.

But if anyone's bewitched, it's me.

The way he holds me, fingers tightening against my skin, a low rumble echoing from his chest, straight through me.

Joshua's attentions before the full moon had been frantic, needy. But the way Johnny plays with me now… he has all the time in the world.

But I want what he's offering, and I want it now.

"I love those sounds you make, wicked girl. I want to hear them every chance I get."

I raise a brow at him. "You're not going to get more of them by talking."

His smile is a flash of teeth, and then, he's back on me.

When his lips find mine, this time, I hold his head in place, working my hips over him and he manages to angle his face just the right way.

His laughter brushes over me as his tongue fights for a place on my favorite things list.

And then, I‘m gone.

Waves of pleasure crash over me, and Johnny doesn't stop. For every jerk of my hips, he seems to suck harder, and I break apart with his name on my lips.

It takes me a few minutes to pull myself back together.

"Holy shit, Johnny." My words are a whisper, even if there's no one around to hear.

He's still on his knees, his thumb brushing over me as he looks up at me with too sated a smile for a man who hasn't come yet.

But when I reach for him, he pulls back, shaking his head. "Not this time."

"Not—why not?"

"We have to keep you wanting more, or you might not come back." He kisses me and I taste myself on his lips.

But when I try to tug him down to continue what he started, he shakes his head. He's too strong for me to move.

"Besides," He draws back, licking his lips. "You have a lunch date, and I'm not going to let you miss it."

"I do?"

"You do," He tugs me to my feet. "Get yourself dressed. I packed you a picnic."