Spell Cat by Tara Lain Page 0,2
booth, tossed his backpack into the pile with his friends’, and pushed onto the bench seat beside Sammy. “Hey, bro.”
Sammy adjusted his skinny ass on the seat, bumped Jimmy’s fist, and returned to a lively discussion of the new babe who had occupied a prominent front-row seat in Witchcraft today.
Were these idiots really arguing over whether the girl was, indeed, a double-D or merely a single? Time for a new subject. “That Professor Barth’s totally intense, isn’t he?”
Alvish looked annoyed. He had no interests of any kind beyond girls. “I think he’s weird.”
Chen hit the side of Alvish’s head, just missing the big ear that had turned his name from Alvin to Alvish. “You think everybody minus a rack the size of Kansas is weird.” He looked at Jimmy. “Yeah, he’s intense, but kind of interesting, don’t you think? Sure seems to know his stuff.”
Alvish shrugged. “Anybody who’d specialize in teaching witchcraft is weird. I rest my case.”
Jimmy frowned. Sometimes the dude bugged him. “You’re taking the course; isn’t that weird?”
“Hell, no. I take it to bag the babes in the front row when they find out their beloved, beautiful, weirdo teacher is gay as a bag of jelly beans.”
“Who the fuck told you that?”
“Nobody had to. Give me a break. Waist-length hair. Pretty as a damned picture. Not married.”
“How do you know that, Alvish?”
“No ring.”
Chen shrugged. “My father doesn’t wear a wedding ring. But I gotta confess, I think the guy probably is gay.”
Jimmy poured some iced tea from a pitcher on the table. “You’re just jealous of the fact that all the gorgeous women pass out over him.”
Chen grinned. “Not all of us can be as lucky with the ladies as you, Janx.”
Alvish thrust out his slightly receding chin. “How do we even know Janx’s so-called girlfriend exists, huh? None of us has ever seen her except from a distance. Maybe that chick was just his cousin or somebody.”
Sammy reached over and smacked Alvish’s head hard this time. Out of the group, those two had the rockiest relationship. “Because Jimmy doesn’t lie, that’s why, asshole.”
“Just sayin’.”
Jimmy shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about it. “Cut it out, you two. My girlfriend’s real.” He sighed and sipped some more tea. “But none of you may ever get to see her.”
Alvish brayed, “See. Told ya.”
Sammy turned a shoulder to the big-eared antagonist and looked at Jimmy. “How come, bro?”
“Because her father hates my bony ass. He doesn’t want her seeing me at all.” His chest hurt just saying it. Jesus, half the crappy time he wanted to die, and the other half he could kill somebody.
“But you said you thought she was the one.”
That twisted the knife. “Yeah.”
Alvish leaned forward on the table. “So which is it? Is she ‘the one’ or not? As if there’s ever just one anyway.”
Try not to hit him. “Yes, asshole, she is the one, and I would do anything and be anything to have her, and I may have to give up everything in my life to do it, but I intend to make her mine no matter what her frigging father says. Would you like to find some other ways to be totally obnoxious, or is that absolutely clear?”
Alvish stared at him with huge and surprisingly beautiful brown eyes. “Crystal.”
Killian leaned against the wall of the shower stall. He loved his vintage bathroom with its subway tile floor and pedestal sink. The shower was the one modern indulgence in the room. All four showerheads focused on his overheated body. He needed to get dressed for his dinner with his mother, but higher priorities called. That lightning still sizzled through him, and it had to be released or, at best, he’d go nuts. At worst—well, better to release it. He’d positioned his body so that one of the heads pounded its spray directly on his hard cock. Gods, feels good. Some Master Witch he was. Couldn’t even find a good partner to do this for him.
He leaned his head against the cool tiles of the wall and closed his eyes. A partner. Someone to love and to wipe out his loneliness. A partner he could appreciate and respect and have sex with. Oh yes, regular sex would be wonderful—in a big bed, with crisp white sheets, and a breeze blowing in from a window. He’d snuggle into his partner’s arms and look up into his green eyes. Killian flexed his fingers. He could feel that shaggy brown hair—damn! His eyelids flipped open. Stop.