Bewitching the Beast Read online

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  The Beast had taken over again, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Ethan’s thumb brushed the back of the slender hand in his. He’d overpower The Beast’s compulsion if he could, but it was no use. For the last year, he’d tried everything he could think of to stop that monster, and nothing ever did any good. The evil inside him had become too strong. A bitter taste coated his tongue, and self-disgust soured his stomach. He’d been reduced to becoming a fucking minion to a parasite.

  He glanced back. But why a woman this time? The Beast had never preyed upon a woman before. Then again, through the monster’s eyes, her aura glowed brighter than any he’d seen. The amount of psychic energy within her had to be phenomenal.

  Shit. The Beast just had to choose this particular woman, didn’t he? When Ethan had first spotted her, he’d read the pain in her eyes, something he could relate to. No, he saw more—spirit. Nothing could defeat this girl, not totally. She was the first to catch his interest in a long, long time—he struggled to swallow past the knot of remorse in his throat—and now he was going to destroy her life.

  The buzz of the crowd grew louder with each minute as midnight approached. Despite the mass of people around them, his senses centered on this one woman. He detected the faint smell of vanilla on her skin and the whisper of her every breath.

  Ethan led her down a hall he knew too well. His chest ached with The Beast’s need for her energy, a need that grew stronger with each step. He opened a door and entered a storage room, drawing the girl in the teal dress with him. Shelves with boxes of glasses, paper towels, and cleansers lined three walls. A stack of chairs and a stool filled the cramped space, along with the usual mops and brooms.

  “What’s your name?” she muttered as he flicked on the overhead light and closed the door.

  He did a double take, and hope cut through the dread. No one under The Beast’s trance had spoken to him before. He took in her pale-gray eyes. They had the vacant look he’d become accustomed to. Damn. His hope dimmed. “My name’s Ethan.”

  “I’m Tess. Tess Edwards.” Her silky voice washed over him as her full lips curved into a smile. Ash-blonde hair hung in waves past her chin. She stepped toward him, and those pink bobbly things on her head wiggled back and forth. The dress she wore accentuated her shape. Not too thin, just curves in all the right places. Beautiful, and sexy. At one time, before The Beast had invaded his body, he might have snuck a date into the closet for a whole different reason. Wouldn’t that be a nice change. To feel normal again. The very idea sparked his imagination, and his mind reeled with what else they could do in this closet.

  As if she read his thoughts, Tess smoothed her hands over his chest and pushed the leather jacket off his shoulders. It slid down his arms and landed on the tiled floor. Long-suppressed need shot through him as she dropped kisses along his chest. What was happening here? He took her shoulders and put some space between them.

  The Beast hissed inside his head, commanding him to follow his body’s desires, directing his senses to her, only her. Why? What could that parasite have to gain? Psychic energy was stolen through a hand to the back of the neck.

  Rising on tiptoe, Tess lifted her face to his, her lips beckoning. Ah, God, so damn tempting. He backed up a step. She followed and yanked his T-shirt from his jeans. Ethan moaned when her hot hands explored his back. It had been so long. Not since The Beast had claimed him. He clenched his fists. “Wake up, Tess,” he rasped, knowing full well it wouldn’t change anything. He’d never been able to break The Beast’s trance.

  Her fingers slid over his skin, waking every nerve ending. Enough. He turned for the door, and The Beast’s hiss became a roar. Power surged through his legs, rooting him in place. Tess reached around his neck and urged his face closer to hers. No, he couldn’t do this. His body rigid, he fought the devil inside him, pushing away its evil commands. He grabbed her arms and shook her. “Tess, wake up!”

  Her hands seized his wrists, and an electric impulse flowed from her fingertips and up through his arms. Not a painful shock, more like a tingling vibration. His muscles tensed, and he gaped as The Beast’s hold on him faded away, jarred into submission by her electric touch. All trace of The Beast disappeared. How had she done that? And was The Beast gone for good? Doubtful, but he could hope.

  Tess shook her head as if waking from a dream. Her eyes became clear and confusion wrinkled her features. “Why did we stop?”

  “What?”

  She wrapped her arms around him, a mixture of desperation and need in her gaze. “Don’t stop.”

  “I don’t understand.” He’d expected her to run from the room. His hand trembled as he brushed his fingers over her cheek. She nuzzled her face against them, and he inhaled a sharp breath, his libido still running in high gear.

  “I haven’t felt this good in a long time,” she confessed, a hint of sadness in her tone. She nipped his finger and flashed him a coy smile. “I mean, what the hell, right? It’s a new year. Well, almost a new year.”

  Don’t stop, she’d said. So, she wanted this. She wanted him. But was doing what she wanted right? The Beast had lured her in here. Don’t be selfish, man. Walk away. But she was asking for more of her own free will. Besides, if The Beast returned, she could shock him back into submission. Right? Damn, she smelled good. He leaned closer, the draw to her too hard to resist. Before he even realized what he was doing, he nestled his face into the crook of her neck. “Are you sure?”

  “Touch me,” she begged, her plea a whisper in his ear.

  His groin tightened, and for the first time in a long while, the hunger that rocketed through him had nothing to do with the evil inside. He clasped her to him and crushed her lips beneath his. She sighed and opened her mouth to his assault. The sweet, tangy taste of brandy and cherries drove him deeper under her spell.

  Their bodies pressed together. Not close enough. The force of his body against hers propelled them against the shelving, sending spray cans and buckets crashing to the floor. She opened her arms to steady herself, arching into him. He ran his hands along her bare arms, her skin smooth. The metal rack behind her rattled with the heavy beat of the music outside the door. In a quick sweep of his hands, he opened the neckline of her dress. She gasped as he stretched the material wide. She wore a chaste cotton bra.

  Shit. Wouldn’t someone who hooked up with strangers wear something sexier for the occasion? “Are you really sure you want to—”

  Tess raised her hands to his face and kissed him with so much heat and passion, his doubts evaporated. He cupped her breast, savoring the plump flesh in his hand. Her nipple peaked into his palm, demanding his attention. No problem there. He slipped his fingers beneath her bra and stroked that enticing bud. A sense of satisfaction surged through him at Tess’s responding shiver. “You feel amazing,” he muttered against her lips.

  She reached for his fly, caressing him through the denim. “You feel pretty good yourself.” Her hands were eager. Almost too eager. A question rose to his mind but dissipated, his brain numbing out as her firm strokes set his blood on fire. His heart sped as he grasped her narrow waist and lifted her onto the seat of a bar stool. Snaking his hand beneath her dress, he skimmed his fingers over her bare knees and thighs.

  A husky sound of approval came from her throat. She popped the button on his jeans and lowered his zipper. “Make me feel alive again,” she demanded as she wriggled out of her pink cotton underwear.

  Alive again. He could relate. He hadn’t felt truly alive for so damn long. The pounding beat rumbling all around them, he slid the dress to her waist and spread her thighs. She leaned back, holding the seat of the stool, and he plunged himself deep inside her. Wild pleasure blazed through his limbs.

  The music outside stopped, replaced by shouts. “Ten . . . Nine . . .”

  Tess wrapped her legs aroun
d his hips. “Yes, don’t stop. So good.”

  “Eight . . . Seven . . .”

  He pumped hard, her every sigh and moan driving him faster, his thrusts making the furry stars on her head bounce.

  “Six . . . Five . . .”

  “More,” she begged. She whimpered and clenched large clumps of his hair in her fists. His breaths ragged, he relished this stolen moment. He was a man again, instead of a slave.

  “Four . . . Three . . .”

  The sensual curve of her slender hips beneath his hands drove him into a frenzy, and a rush of mind-blowing sensation curled inside him. So close.

  “Two . . . ONE.” A cheer rose up and horns blared.

  She cried out a name. Matt. Worse, The Beast’s growl reverberated through his brain. No! His whole body tensed. Too late. With each of her small spasms, he drew in her essence. Her aura dimmed as her spiritual energy seeped into his veins, warm and intoxicating. He arched with a hoarse groan and came inside her. The combined pleasures so intense he had to use the stool for support. In the heady fog, a vision flooded his mind.

  A man lay on the floor of a bedroom, gasping for breath.

  Tess ran for him. “Matt,” she screamed.

  Snatching her purse from a dresser, she dumped its contents onto the floor and reached for her cell phone. “Matt, hang in there.” Her hands trembled so badly she fumbled the phone. “Come on. 9-1-1 . . . 9-1-1,” she chanted, forcing her fingers to push the buttons.

  Matt’s struggles weakened, and his face turned purple.

  “Come on. Answer.”

  “9-1-1 operator. Can I help you?”

  Tess gripped the phone. “Yes. I need an ambulance. He can’t breathe.”

  “Where are you, ma’am? I need your exact location.”

  She barely remembered giving her address. Matt’s gasping stopped. “Matt? No. NO! Don’t die! Don’t leave me.”

  Tossing the phone to the floor, she bent over him. A muffled voice called out to her from the cell.

  “What do I do? What do I do?” She’d taken CPR back in high school, what felt like a century ago. She tilted his neck, opened his mouth, and blew in. His chest didn’t rise. “Work with me here, Matt.” She tried again, and again.

  As her spasms subsided, the images disappeared. Fuck. He’d just witnessed a memory. He was sure of it. Her grief still haunted him, a hollow ache so deep he could barely breathe. Anger came close on its heels as the realization dawned. He’d stolen her energy. He’d done exactly what The Beast wanted. Dammit. So much for the freedom he’d thought he’d had. He should have followed his gut and left as soon as The Beast had gone silent.

  Sitting up, Tess clutched the fabric of his shirt and dropped her head to his chest. He cradled her body, giving her what comfort he could. In the next moment, she stiffened and pushed away from him, hopping from the stool. A deep shade of pink stained her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

  She was sorry? He’d just stolen her psychic energy to feed the parasite inside him.

  She tugged her neckline into place. “I didn’t mean to call out, uh . . .” she murmured.

  Ah. Matt’s name. “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it.”

  She picked up her panties and quickly put them back on. “I . . . I should go,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she backed toward the door, stumbling once.

  The Beast’s discontent rumbled through him. Now what did the son of a bitch want? He’d fed, so why didn’t he go back to sleep? Instead, an invisible force blasted through his limbs, compelling him forward to grip Tess’s arm.

  “Let go.” She tried to pull out of his grasp, but as much as he willed his hand to release her, it wouldn’t comply.

  “I said. Let go!” She zapped him with another electric-charged touch, jolting him from The Beast’s hold. The demon returned to its slumber. How the hell?

  She jerked her arm free and yanked the door open. In a flash of teal, she was gone.

  Ethan rubbed a hand over his face, trying to regain his senses. Her touch affected The Beast. What was it about her? Faith that things might change for the better rose within him, a faith he’d thought he’d never feel again. He tucked his shirt into his jeans and zipped up, then reached for his jacket and strode after her.

  Tess. He needed to save her.

  He couldn’t let this one die.

  Chapter 2

  Holy crap! What just happened?

  Tess raced down the hall, wobbling on her borrowed four-inch heels, as voices in the club rose in an off-key version of “Auld Lang Syne.” At the end of the hallway, she passed by a couple in a heavy-duty lip-lock and barreled headlong into the mob of partiers. Her insides trembled like a mold of Jell-O. Hell, her outsides did too. She had to get out of here before Ethan came out of the back. What if he searched her out? What if he told her friends, her date, what they’d done?

  The crush of bodies jostled Tess as she pushed her way through. Icy liquid from someone’s drink splashed over her shoulder and trickled down her back.

  “Tess, over here!” Holly waved.

  Tess forced a smile and headed to their table.

  “Are you all right?” Holly frowned. “You look flushed.”

  Heat flooded Tess’s face as she grabbed her coat. “I’m sick. I’m going home.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “No, stay. It’s two blocks. I’ll be fine.” Tess headed for the door. “Tell Jay I’m sorry.”

  Stepping outside, she shoved one arm into a sleeve. Why had she done it? An arctic gust of wind froze the hairs in her nose as she wrestled with her coat.

  She didn’t even know the guy, and she’d begged him—begged him!—for sex. What in the holy hell had come over her? Then to thank him, she’d called out Matt’s name? How embarrassing. As she walked home, the numbing wind tore at her half-buttoned coat and pelted her eyes with snow while the steady roar from Times Square mocked her.

  Was she drunk? Yup. But while the alcohol had relaxed her, what had driven her into Ethan’s arms had been more about wanting to feel something besides pain. She was tired of being sad and lonely, tired of friends and family pushing her to quit obsessing about Matt. Not to mention, Ethan awakened a side of her that she’d begun to believe had died with Matt. She’d wanted to go all the way with Ethan, really wanted to. Even now the thought of his strong arms and lean chest sent her stomach into a nosedive. He’d smelled like worn leather—comfortable, familiar. And his voice—so rich, full, and tortured.

  Tess’s ankle buckled. Somehow she caught her footing. The heel of her shoe didn’t fare as well. Holly’s new shoes. “Shit.” She picked up the sliver of wood and hobbled on, limping through two inches of drifting snow.

  One particular nosy friend would probably say what she’d done was a sign she was getting over Matt’s death. She’d agree if she didn’t feel so crappy about it now. Like she’d betrayed Matt. Although she knew that was stupid, her chest still ached.

  Digging in her coat pocket, she found her keys and yanked them out. A scrap of white fell to the ground. She scowled and picked up the crumpled tissue, stuffing it into her pocket. Just one more thing to cap off a completely shitty evening. Stupid tissue.

  Chilled through, she tripped into the empty lobby of her apartment building and stabbed the elevator button with her thumb. God, what would Matt think of all this? Her attempt to move on hadn’t involved going out on dates. Nope. Boom. She’d had sex with some guy she’d never met before. Disgusting.

  She shuffled from foot to foot and pushed the button again. “Come on. No one else is around. Get down here.”

  Something else about this whole thing was terribly wrong—something besides the fact she’d had sex with a stranger in a closet. What was so freaky had come right after her mind-blasting orgasm. Streaks of light had passed b
efore her eyes, and an eerie chill had tickled her spine.

  Tess let out a frustrated sigh. Something was definitely wrong with her.

  After one more attack on the elevator button, she groaned and sped to the stairwell. She jerked the door open and began her climb as the elevator dinged behind her. Figures. She didn’t slow her pace. Her one remaining heel banged against each step, nearly tripping her until she yanked the shoes off and climbed barefoot to the third floor.

  Tess hurried down the hall to her apartment and jammed her key into the lock, the smell of dried herbs from the wreath on her door making her want to sneeze. Once inside, she slammed the door shut and locked up, before pressing her back against the wood. The keys and shoes dropped to the carpet with muffled thuds.

  Her eyes closed tight, she knocked her head against the wood behind her. “So stupid.” She stabbed her hand into her coat pocket and pulled out the charm she always carried. A carnelian stone. She flipped on the light and stared at the dark-orange rock, the size of a quarter, shining in her palm. “Gram, I think this thing worked too well tonight. I had way too much confidence.” Tess hugged herself and slid to the floor, sick to her stomach. She hadn’t felt this much dread since last year when she’d mistakenly thought she was pregnant. “No . . . oh, no . . . no.” Fear streaked through her—she’d gone off the pill months ago.

  She pushed off the door and half crawled, then raced to the bathroom, yanking off her coat, then tearing at the dress. Tess shoved aside the shower curtain and started the water. She caught sight of her image in the mirror. The fuzzy, pink stars bounced on her head, and another nasty thought surfaced. “You idiot,” she snapped at her reflection. “What if he’s given you a disease?” Her stomach churned, and she tore off the stupid headband. Popping off her bra and removing her panties, she stepped into the shower. Hot water streamed over her skin. She grabbed the soap and scrubbed like a mad woman, knowing it would make no difference.