Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
His hair was dark, streaked with various shades of gray, and fell to his shoulders in wavy strands. Hazel always itched to tangle her fingers in it to see if it was as soft as it looked. His hair-dusted arms bulged with muscles and veins. The sprinkling of hair across his naked chest wandered down his abdomen and disappeared into his unbuttoned jeans. She could only imagine what else was in those jeans.
But oh, what an imagination she had!
Blinking rapidly several times, she pulled herself out of her sexually dazed reminiscence. What was she thinking? Drake Cole had lived in her building for over a year and hadn’t said more than two words to her until today. She hadn’t said more than two words to him, either.
She tried to concentrate on setting up the items for her midnight spell, but her mind wandered, as it always did when she thought about Drake. She had admired from a distance because she had other things to think about. She was a witch. Without anyone to turn to for guidance, she was intent upon teaching herself. If she was going to do that successfully, she didn’t need the distraction of a handsome man.
The rapid knocking at her door reminded her she had somewhere else to be for a little while tonight. Hazel opened the door on the way to the sofa. Sitting, she put on her black, spike-heeled shoes with the straps that wrapped around her lower legs.
“Damn, girl! You really are trying to get fucked, aren’t you?”
Irene’s laughter made Hazel fidget. “It’s the only dress the costume store had that fit my needs. Do I look too much like Elvira without tits?”
“No. But I do think you’re going to be the cause of several elderly women getting plenty of attention from their husbands tonight.”
“As long as they aren’t dirty old men grabbing my ass, I’ll be okay.” Hazel laughed.
“Oh, I’m sure there will be a few of those.” Irene smiled. “Just don’t turn anyone into a wereskunk or anything. The goat was bad enough.”
“Wereskunk.” Hazel snorted. “Do I look like Stephanie Burke? I’d never turn anyone into a wereskunk, even in fiction.”
“Let’s go. If we’re late, Mrs. Johnson won’t let us have any punch.”
Hazel wrinkled her nose. “I think I’d rather drink that concoction I made earlier. Hey! I just had a thought.”
“Oh, no. Not again. I’ve been down this road before, and it never ends well.”
“This will work. I know it will!” Hazel grabbed a bottle of flavored water from the fridge and they both headed out the door.
“Stick this in your purse, Irene. We’ll try it once we get there.”
“Try what?”
“I’m going to turn that water into wine. We’ll have our own private party at the party.” Hazel grinned mischievously.
Chapter Two
When Drake returned to his apartment, his breathing was erratic. Every lover he’d ever taken in his life was insignificant next to Hazel. He never misled women about his intentions -- his wolf nature demanded he give in to his baser appetites from time to time -- but he’d never even considered taking a woman for more than a pleasurable evening or two.
Until now.
As it was, Drake hadn’t been able to think about anything other than the tight little body downstairs, and how many times he could take her in one evening before they both passed out. He hated himself for that, but he’d learned long ago that he could only fight the beast so long. Now, Hazel had definitely gotten under his skin, at least as far as his physical need was concerned. He had a feeling that, given time, he’d find a whole other side to her. One he was loath to let go.
He sighed. Who was he kidding? He already didn’t want to let her go. Now, he was stuck going to this absurd little get together. One more thing to prove he was becoming obsessed with her.
He hated parties.
Everyone was loud, obnoxious, and smelled funny. It wasn’t so bad when everyone was drunk. At least they had a reason for being annoying. But this party would have all the un-pleasantries without means for him to dull his senses if necessary. And he was sure it would be necessary.
Hazel might not be a witch, but she had sure bewitched him.
Drake dressed from throat to toe in black leather -- a black, floor-length cape graced his shoulders. Should he lose control tonight, he would at least have a way to hide himself. His shifting abilities were completely unpredictable during a blue moon. With this being Halloween as well, that problem doubled.
Oh well, he’d just have to do the best he could. He was an alpha werewolf, leader of his pack. He could handle a little full moon magic -- just as he had done all his adult life.
The party was held in the penthouse where the owner of the building, Irma Price, resided. Drake held his breath as he knocked on the door. Letting it out, he inhaled gingerly. Up until this moment, Drake thought that concoction of Hazel’s was the foulest thing he had ever smelled. When Mrs. Price opened the door, however, he discovered how wrong he was.