Chapter 9 - Lucy

Trying to wake up the next morning feels like crawling out of deep, thick mud. Even though part of me is registering the light in the sky and the birdsong, my body seems heavy and slow.

I’m completely drained and exhausted, even though I haven’t done much over the last few days.

Not much—except force enough stress through my body, it mimics running six marathons!

The moment I sit up, last night comes back to me in full living color, with an absolute trainwreck of sensations to go with it.

I kissed him. Oh my God, I actually kissed him!

My cheeks burn as I remember the moment, and it’s not just a hint of embarrassment. The fire floods to other parts of my body and I press my thighs together, groaning softly as I try to fight the sensations.

There’s no denying it—this guy is hotter than the inside of a volcano. And the conflict between our personalities can’t stop me from getting aroused.

The sensations are so strong that I can’t ignore them. Instead of getting up and trying to distract myself, I take a moment to indulge.

It’s a relief to let the thoughts come. I’ve been using so much mental energy to keep them at bay, it’s been almost painful. As I think about the night before my nipples harden, goosebumps fly across my back and down my thighs while a burning ache throbs between my legs.

His lips were hot and slick as I felt his tongue eagerly searching for mine. I ran my hands up his strong, muscular arms, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him. The shock of our bodies touching sent ripples of desire flooding through me, shattering my resistance.

I want to fuck right there against the door. Take me, you savage creature. Just fuck me until all my doubts crumble into dust.

In my mind, I take the fantasy further. I feel his hands squeezing my upper arms as he slams me against the door, then brings his hungry mouth against mine. I squirm against him, wrapping my knees around his hips as he lifts me up. I grab at his hard shoulders, climbing him and thrusting against him as he kisses me and shoves my dress up my thighs…

Suddenly, less pleasant memories flit through my brain. His cold attitude, the way he replies to everything I say with a snappy retort, how completely difficult he is at all times. It dampens my desire. Not much, but enough that I can get out of bed and push my fantasies aside.

I head straight for the kitchen to put on some coffee, feeling cranky that I’m running late. It’s still extremely early. The sun has only just come up, but I should be prepping the bakery before dawn.

And nobody worked yesterday. Even if Sunday is a short shift, we should have been prepping bread and cakes for the Monday rush.

While the coffee brews, I rummage around in the cupboards, looking for a granola bar. I don’t have the stomach for a proper breakfast, or the time to cook it. The trouble is, Peter completely rearranged my cupboards, and now I can’t find a damn thing.

When I finally find one and slam the cupboard door shut, Peter is standing on the other side of it. I’m so surprised, I jump a foot in the air and let out a little shriek.

“Jesus,” I gasp. “What the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” he shoots back. “You’re banging around in here like you’re playing the drums, and the sun isn’t even up.”

“I have to go and open the bakery. I’ve had more than enough time off.”

“Wait…” Peter says, his face going blank. “Does that mean I have to go?”

I sigh in exasperation, rolling my eyes. “Yes, I suppose that means you have to come. I’m not crazy about the idea, either, just so you know.”

“So, don’t,” he says flippantly. “Get someone else to cover for you.”

“I can’t keep doing that. Fiona has her own business to run, and Sarah and Rachel are only part-timers. Besides, I’m the only one who can really bake.”

He scowls, the dramatic expression only enhancing his sharp features.

Oh my God. Why does he have to be so damn gorgeous?

“I’m not going to spend my day in a goddamn bakery,” he scoffs.

“Well, I’m not spending my day sitting here putting up with you. I can’t just let my life’s work collapse because you don’t feel like going.”

“What about breaking the spell? Aren’t we waiting for your mentor?”

“That could take weeks. I’d lose all my customers before then. I’m not doing that.”

“Well, I’m not going!”

“You said that already. If you’re going to be that stubborn, I guess we’ll be testing the limits of the spell, because I am going.”

He glares at me, his big green eyes dark and full of turmoil. His expression is so savage, it’s almost frightening. But lurking somewhere deep inside him, I can sense extreme vulnerability.

Careful. Don’t see it just because you desperately want it to be there.

I back off a couple of steps and bite into my granola bar. He watches me, his fists slowly closing as his mouth sets into a hard line.

“You could at least make me some breakfast if I have to get up this early,” he says. “It’s inhumane.”

“Coffee is right there,” I say, pointing. “I don’t have time to make anything too complicated. You can find something here or eat when we get there. It’s up to you.”

He sighs. “At least you probably have decent food at your shop. Wait—it’s not all health food or something, is it? You actually have cakes and pastries and stuff?”

“Yes, we do. Don’t worry about that,” I say as I finish my granola bar. “I’ll be baking a lot from scratch today, so there will be plenty of food to choose from.”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” he says, shaking his head. “What am I supposed to do there all day?”

“Stay out of my way, hopefully,” I answer, moving closer to him so I can get a cup of coffee. He doesn’t move out of the way, and suddenly, we’re very close together, almost touching. My fantasies come rushing back to me, making heat collect between my legs.

I look up at him, feeling my cheeks getting hot. He doesn’t move out of the way, just stares down at me. His mouth curves in a slight grin, and his eyes travel slowly down my body.

Fuck!

I press my thighs together as he stares down at me. The arousal is crippling me, throbbing deep inside and making my nipples burn.

He’s a wolf! He’ll know that you’re turned on—stop it!

I can’t. I’m completely helpless as I stand in front of him, watching his eyes travel all the way down my body, then back up again. When he looks into my eyes again, they seem softer. He licks his lips, and my eyes are caught on the movement of his tongue. I can almost feel it, my focus is so strong.

“Lucy…” he whispers.

A small cry escapes my throat.

“You’re in the way,” he says, his voice going hard. “I want to get some milk out of the fridge.”

“Oh,” I answer, almost trembling as I move to the side to let him pass. I scuttle around him and practically flee the kitchen, rushing down the hall towards the bathroom.

You fucking idiot! What the hell are you doing?

Tears of frustration creep down my cheeks as I fill up the sink with warm water to wash my face. It’s terrible, but the longer I’m exposed to him, the worse my attraction gets. I want him so much, but he clearly hates me.

And now I’m trapped with him, by marriage as well as the spell. He might be with me physically, but I can’t have him.

I get ready in a hurry. As I rush from the bathroom back to my room, I hear Peter coming up the hall. For a moment, I think he’s about to follow me. Anxiety stabs through me, but so does a strong wave of arousal.

I could swear that I’ve seen something in his eyes when he looks at me… as if he really does want me.

When I hear him slam the bathroom door, I feel a mixture of relief and disappointment. My heart twists in my chest as I try to decide what I really want.

He’s just a guy. Of course he’s going to get turned on by us kissing or me being in front of him in a nightgown. It doesn’t mean he likes me—and I am not going to bed with someone I don’t love!

Even though I talk to myself as sternly as possible, my arousal doesn’t settle. As I get dressed, I can’t stop thinking about his hands on me, palms cupping my breasts while his thumbs stroke my nipples, his soft, slick lips and the rest of him as hard as stone.

Once I’m dressed, I take a few minutes to gather myself before heading down the hallway. I feel like I’ve prepared myself well for the day, but I’m not expecting to see Peter dressed smartly in new clothes.

I’m so shocked, I just stand in the kitchen doorway, staring. When he turns around and gives me a questioning look, I can’t move, let alone speak.

“What is it now?” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’m seriously beginning to wonder if you’re having some kind of nervous breakdown.”

“I’m okay,” I manage to sputter, trying to sound casual. “You just look different in your new clothes.”

“I got them from my brother,” he says. “I thought I should wear something decent if I’m going to town.”

I nod slowly, barely listening. Instead of loose, torn cargos, he’s wearing a neatly fitted pair of black slacks that show off his legs and tight butt. The long-sleeved collared shirt is a shade of dark gray that makes his red hair and green eyes look vibrant in comparison.

“Lucy!” he snaps. “What the fuck?”

“Okay!” I say quickly. “I didn’t expect you to go to any effort, that’s all. It’s really nice of you to take the time to make yourself presentable.”

“Nice of me?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. “I’ll have you know, I’m not comfortable in the slightest. I hate clothes like this. I just didn’t want to spend the day listening to your nagging.”

A wave of anger flashes through me, but it only stokes the fire of my lust. “I don’t nag you.”

“Oh, really? You’re on my case all the time. Do you think I’m enjoying myself here? Because I’m not. I’m just trying to keep the situation as stress-free as possible.”

“Stress-free?” I answer, incredulous.

“Look, if you want to make a big deal about the clothes, then I’ll just put my gear back on!” His hands fly up to the collar of the shirt and his fingers slip open the first few buttons, exposing a strip of skin.

Fuck.

My eyes are following his hands, and I’ve forgotten where I am. He pauses, and it forces me to look back up into his eyes. Even though his expression is still hard, there’s a glint in his eye, and the beginning of a grin on his lips.

Wait… is he doing this on purpose?

We stare at each other for a moment, the tension in the room escalating to an unbearable level.

“What you’re wearing is fine,” I finally force the words through my throat. “Let’s just go.”

“As you wish,” he says with an ironic gesture that suggests chivalry.

How the hell am I going to get through the day with him looking like a smoldering sex symbol and standing next to me the whole time?