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by Wendy Stone
Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica/Romance
Description: Brady Knight has abilities that are shocking and mind boggling, abilities that he doesn't always use for the good of man. He is a "magic man", gifted with a mixture of telekinesis, mind reading, and mind control which he uses for his own gain. Molly Wolfe is in trouble. Kidnapped by a group of men trying to figure out her people's secret to longevity, she's managed to escape and she needs help. Can Brady help her and rescue the Were left in the compound, including her litter mate? Or will he become lost in the desire that she flames inside of him so easily? Only the Magic Man will find out.
eBook Publisher: Phaze, 2009
eBookwise Release Date: September 2009
25 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [254 KB]
Reading time: 169-237 min.
"Who are you?" Brady Knight growled, getting up from his chair and stalking around the side of his desk. "What did you mean when you implied you knew me? I don't know you. I'd remember."
"No," the girl said softly, shaking her head almost sadly. "Considering the state you were in when I found you, you wouldn't remember me." She flinched when he grabbed her arms but her gaze remained steady, those eerie green eyes boring into him.
"State? So you're one of them, the ones that sucked off of my power." He wanted to shake her but he refrained, feeling a startling sense of disappointment rip through him. "If you think you're going to blackmail me into anything by threatening to tell what you know about me, think again. I've had better and smarter people than you try."
"I don't know how you make this agency work."
"You keep jumping to conclusions. I thought you detective types were supposed to want facts and proof, not intuitive conclusions." She shrugged, pulling out of his grasp easily. "May I sit?"
Brady narrowed his eyes at the provocatively beautiful girl. She wore the same outfit she'd had on earlier, the vibrant red of the dress making her hair appear scarlet, the bodice cupping her breasts almost lovingly. Her eyes were piercing, strangely arousing and calming at the same time.
"How about we start with your name?" he asked, waving his hand at one of the chairs in front of his desk. He cocked his hip on the corner of his desk, noticing a fine trail of freckles that scattered across her nose.
"My name is Mollyne Wolfe. Most just call me Molly."
"What business do you have with me, Molly?" he asked, crossing his arms across his wide chest. She radiated an unidentified energy, one that had an undeniable sense of good. Not good as in pleasant. Good as in the opposite of evil. He hated that someone who looked like her and projected that aura would stoop to something as low as blackmail. "How do I know you?"
"Which do you wish me to answer first, Mr. Knight.?" She looked up at him, giving him a gamine sort of grin that surprised him. "You want to know how I know you so that you can figure out what to do with me."
"Yes," Brady nodded. "I do. Can you blame me?"
"Not at all," she said agreeably. "You also wish to know how I blocked your thoughts earlier today, on the street. That will take a bit of an explanation. I don't know if I have time for that. I do need your help, Mr. Knight, despite what you might think of me. We need your help desperately."
"I'm getting ahead of myself." She paused, folded her hands carefully over her lap and took a deep breath. "Do you remember your sophomore year in college?"
Brady snorted. "I don't remember much of the last half of my freshman year. Why do you ask?"
"That's when we met. I had come to the school, your school, to visit a friend from outside my clan, something that is forbidden with my people. You were standing outside the freshman girl's dorms. You were doing petty magic, spinning books and pens in the air." She glanced up at him. "You don't remember this?"
"Not a bit," Brady said, feeling a familiar angst building in his gut. He always felt it when someone reminded him of that time.
"May I?" She stood and held out her hand.
"May you what?" he asked warily, leaning away from her touch.
"I've caused you distress. I just want to alleviate it." Molly laughed, her husky voice sending a thrill through him. "You have nothing to fear, Mr. Knight. Your magicks are much stronger than mine ever could be."
Brady stared into her eyes, growing lost in the emerald stare. He nodded, sitting forward so that she could reach him better. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and muttering something before she clapped her hands together, rubbing her palms. Then she reached up to touch his face.
Heat! It was the first thing he felt as her fingertips stroked over his wide forehead, pushing aside the shock of hair that defied his brush. It soaked into his skin, warm and pleasurable, soothing his doubts and fears.
The scent of her filled his nose and he inhaled deeply, a spicy combination of cinnamon and vanilla with a hint of her own musk underneath. It was a heady mix; getting enough of it to satisfy seemed unlikely. He closed his eyes to enjoy it better, feeling the palm of her hand skim over his forehead and then down, her fingertips tracing his features.
"Hmm," he moaned. "You're good at this."
"Shh," she ordered softly. "Don't speak, just feel. Feel and remember."
He inhaled again, hearing the rustle of her skirts as she stepped closer. The heat of her body teased his; close but not touching, making him wonder what she would feel like in his arms, how she would taste under his lips. He knew her body was soft but with a lean strength that belayed that softness. Would she cry out or would she bite her lip when she came?
"I'd scream your name," she whispered, her voice husky as if she could feel what he was thinking, feel it as if it were happening.
His eyes started to flutter open and she laid her fingertips over them, keeping them closed. "No, please don't look, let me do this. Let me help you remember me. Open yourself."
"How?" he whispered.
"Let down those walls that surround you, Brady. Just feel."
He took a deep breath, her scent swirling around him, drawing him in. A picture formed in his mind, one that had his breath clogging in his throat. She twirled around him, her skirts lifting, showing off those trim ankles and shapely calves, rising higher to tease with glimpses of pretty thighs and the pelt of red fur that covered her sex.
She moved against him, dancing for him, her body twining about until he reached for her in his mind, yanking her close, her breasts crushing against his chest. His lips found hers, devouring in a kiss meant to inflame.
Molly gasped, the sound lost in his mouth, his tongue plunging inside of hers to taste and explore. Her passion held the flavor of honeyed wine, dark and rich, a bewitching brew.
Her hands were on his shirt buttons, slowly unfastening them before sliding her palms up the taut, defined muscles of his stomach and chest. She didn't stop there, pushing his shirt over his shoulders, following the sleeves down his arms to rid him of the hampering cloth. She tore her mouth from his, her lips finding the skin of his throat, her tongue coming out to tease his already aroused flesh.
"Stand there," she ordered, going on tip toe to press a quick kiss to his lips. Then she fell to her knees before him, her skirts flaring out around his feet as her fingers made fast work of his belt and jeans, pushing them down his thighs. She reached out, tracing the tented bulge in his boxers, squeezing gently at the base.
Brady couldn't move even if he wanted. It was as if he'd been frozen to the floor, trapped in the spell of her touch, in the aura of the pleasure surrounding him. He could feel her hands, stroking upward over his chest, the tips of her fingers trembling across his flat male nipples, making them pucker. A moan left his lips, his hands clenching at his sides even though he wanted to draw her up against him again.
Her hands dragged down, catching in the band of his boxers, pulling them and tugging on his jeans until both fell to the floor. Her green eyes caressed him as they moved over his body, settling for a long minute upon his erection, filled with admiration at what she saw.
"Why are you doing this?" he hissed through clenched teeth as her small hand moved to his cock, wrapping around his girth.
"Because I want to," she said simply, smiling up at him before licking her full, red lips in obvious invitation. "Because I have to."
"You have to?" he groaned as her lips slid over the tip of his cock. "I don't understand."
She pulled her lips off him, her hand stroking his wet shaft. "You don't need to, just let me do this." Her eyes sparkled up at him, mischief apparent in the green depths.
His hips were jerking against his will, his heart racing in his chest. He felt her lips, the heat of her mouth as she sucked him in, the sweetness of the friction she created. His head fell back as need unlike any he'd felt before took him, causing him to tremble under her touch. Low moans were torn from his throat and he couldn't help but move under her mouth.
His hands slid over her head, burying themselves in bright red curls that felt like satin in his fingers. She pushed against them, rubbing her head in his palms even as she sucked him, her tongue like a flame against the underside of his cock. He felt it tease the ridge surrounding his glans, flicking the sensitive skin, igniting nerve endings with slippery softness.
It was more than he could take and he felt the pressure grow and grow until he could hold out no longer. "I'm going to come," he growled, trying to pull away from her sweet mouth.
She held on tighter, drawing him in until the tip of his cock touched the back of her throat. Her eyes met his, the look in them showing her own pleasure at what she was doing. With a small hum of enjoyment, she managed to swallow the last of him, her nose brushing in the short shock of crinkly hair that surrounded his cock.
It was all he could take. With a shout of bliss, he emptied himself into her, feeling her swallowing him, draining him. "Oh, God," he groaned, hanging on to the desk as the feelings swamped him.
It ended even as her lips left one last kiss upon the head of his cock. He heard the rustle of her dress as she rose gracefully to her feet.
Guilt assailed him even as the last of the spasms she'd created with her lips echoed through his limbs. Renee; he'd cheated on her. Cheated with a woman he'd never met before today, or at least as far as he could remember.
"Stop," she whispered, her voice close to him though he was sure he'd heard her footsteps walking away from him. "Open your eyes."
Brady did, blinking unsteadily as he saw her mere inches from him. "What..." he began.
"You didn't cheat. You stayed true to your woman, Brady. What happened was only a mixture of our auras. I took nothing from you and gave you ease." She turned, smiling over her shoulder at him before going back to the chair she'd been in before and sinking down into it.
"Who are you?" he asked as he glanced down, shocked to see he was fully dressed. "What are you?"
"I've told you my name, Brady. I'm Molly Wolfe. What I am will take a bit more of an explanation. I'm not sure you're ready to hear it yet." She flipped her long curls over her shoulder with a toss of her head. "Suffice it to say, I have powers of my own. Nothing compared to what you have, of course."
"I think you should try now," he said, staring at her warily. He watched as she crossed her legs, her skirt slipping up and exposing shapely calves.
"My father is Callan Wolfe. He is the head of the Clan of the Wolfe."
He could feel her watching him as if expecting some kind of reaction. "That means nothing to me," he said with a shrug.
"Then perhaps I should go back to that day on the campus when we first met," she said. "Perhaps you'd understand more."
Brady got up from the desk, his body still shaking from whatever she'd done to him. He went and sat in his chair, feeling better with the wide expanse of polished wood between them. "You said I was doing some magic tricks, probably trying to mystify some girl and get into her pants," he said crudely.
"Yes." She smiled serenely, the expression at total odds to the wildness of her hair. "You didn't seem to realize that you were exposing yourself to danger, showing off that way. Then, when I tried to stop you, you laughed at me."
The disgust in her voice made him smile. Back then, when he was drunk on alcohol, power and women, he probably would have laughed and then tried to get her into bed. Did he try? Is that what happened?
"No, we didn't sleep together," she said softly, a chuckle to her voice. "You did try, but my father had his guards around me. They wouldn't have let you get within two feet."
"Back then, I'm not sure that would have stopped me."
"You don't know my father's guards. It's the only way I could get him to let me go to college at all. He doesn't believe in a woman leaving the clan until they are mated."
"Mated? Do you mean married?"
"There's a bit of difference in the ceremony, but yes." She waved a hand in front of her face. "But this is not why I am here. And it doesn't tell you what you want to know. I stopped you from exposing your magic in front of the wrong people. They would have hauled you away, dissected you after years of studying you in a cage; all in the name of science."
It was Brady's turn to laugh. "You sound like a friend of mine," he said shaking his head. "He's constantly telling me I'm going to end up in a cage."
"I've been in one, Brady. It's not something to laugh about." She pushed up the sleeves of her dress, exposing her wrists and scars that surrounded her arms. "They took blood, chaining me when I refused to do as they wished. They performed experiments on me, poking and prodding until I escaped one night. Since then I've been in hiding. I can't go home to my people. I can't see my parents or sleep in my own bed. I've put them all in danger just by still being alive."
"Why would they put you in a cage, Molly? That doesn't make sense. I mean, yes, you have power, but..."
"Those powers come from my mother, Brady. She is a powerful white witch, powerful enough to become the alpha female in my clan even though she isn't one of them. My ... my father has his own kind of powers." She took a deep breath, staring down at her hands before blowing it out audibly. "My father is a werewolf. He is the alpha male of our clan." She lifted her head, meeting his eyes with her own.
"Your father is a ... a werewolf? You mean claws, tail, a snout?"
"Pigs have snouts," she said disgustedly.
"So if he's ... then you..."
"Yes, I'm part wolf."
Brady sat back in his chair, eyeing her for a moment. The first burst of laughter hit him hard and he couldn't control it, coughing into his hand to try to cover it up. "Oh come on. I don't know who you are or why you've come in here, but I think you're late for your latest dose of medication."
He missed seeing her rise, wiping his eyes as the bout of laughter had made them water. But he couldn't miss the sound of his name on her lips.
"Brady!" she growled, her voice huskier than normal.
"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered as he tried to get himself under control. He wiped his eyes once more, looking up. "What the..."
She was pulling her dress up and over her head before dropping it to the floor. Tearing off her rings, she dropped them on top of her dress and then pulled off her bracelets. Two quick jerks yanked her earrings out of her ears, to also be dumped on the dress.
Then she was naked, standing in front of him wearing nothing but a single necklace, a pendant in the shape of a pentagram. "My God," he whispered, staring at her. "You are beautiful."
"Shut up and watch," she growled. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes. A crackle like the sound of creaking bones filled the air.
Brady watched in horror as her body changed in front of his eyes. She bent and twisted, her bones shifting, muscles changing and growing. Her face contorted, her ears moving to the top of her head, turning pointed, her lips thinning and turning black. A muzzle formed, fangs gleaming under curled lips. Red fur grew over her body; a long thick tail grew from the base of her spine.
She snarled once as the final stages of the change took effect, than stood, shaking her body, the long red fur thick and full. Sitting on her haunches, she turned her finely shaped head his way, glaring at him with piercing green eyes, eyes that seemed to ask if he believed her now.
He rose slowly to his feet, coming around from the other side of the desk to stand in front of her, reaching out slowly to touch her ear. She allowed it for a moment, than turned her head, snapping her jaws around his hand, though she didn't touch him with her teeth. "Holy shit!"
She stood, still holding his hand and took him back to his desk, placing him so he was standing with his back to her clothing. When she let go, she yipped at him.
"Okay, okay I won't look, but jeez, I've seen it before just a minute ago."
She growled, low in her throat, in warning, and then stepped away.
Brady heard the cracking and creaking and a whine, then the sound of her clothing rustling and the clink of her bracelets.
"You can turn," she said, her voice a little hoarse.
"Okay, I believe you." He sat down at his desk, feeling as if his knees were about to give out.
"It's about time." She sank down on her chair, fixing her rings and refusing to look at him for a moment. "Now will you agree to help me?"
"I don't know, Molly. I've never dealt with anything like ... this," he said, waving his hand at the floor where she'd changed. "I didn't even believe in it. I don't know if I believe in it yet. It's all pretty Bram Stoker."
She sighed. "You just watched me change and you still don't believe I am who I say I am? What do I have to do? Eat some chickens? Chase my tail? Howl at the damn moon?"