Love Spell: Steamy Magical Older Man Younger Woman Romance Read online

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alex

  My mind raced with thoughts of Misha day and night. I hated it. I felt obsessive.

  Fiona’s evasiveness didn’t help.

  There was still plenty of free time in my schedule, time I wanted to spend with her. She wasn’t perfect, but for now she was mine. I could control myself with her, and if she could only spend time with me, we could figure out how to make things flow super smooth.

  I needed us to work. I needed us to drown out Misha.

  “What’s up with you?” I asked her one day. “Why haven’t I seen you? Is something going on?”

  “Not at all, baby,” she whispered to me over the phone. “A girl just needs to get out and enjoy life every now and then. Keeps you on your toes, and keeps me from being boring.”

  Fiona’s elusive dismissal pissed me off. Her whispering exasperated me even further. Something wasn’t right. She never whispered. The old Fiona would have made time for me anytime I wanted, even when I didn’t want to see her and was clear about it.

  She would also sit at home and do nothing just to please me if I even accused her of partying too much. This new Fiona was more assured, less attentive, and led me to question what she was hiding.

  As for her comment on being boring? I knew she was still hurt from my comments that she was boring and partied too much. We had an argument about it one night. She let me know exactly how she felt.

  “If anything, I deserve to party!” She yelled at me one night. “My tax return says I’m single and we both know I’m sexy. Besides, I’m aware of your doggish ways. You’ve cheated on me before, and I did everything you wanted me to. You must be crazy if I’m going to switch my life up and change who I am to sit at home and let you hurt me like that again.”

  Hearing her stand up for herself was a tough pill to swallow. She was smart not to back down from me. I did make her change her ways for me, and even though I wasn’t cheating this time around, she had a point. She couldn’t trust me; it would be stupid to.

  Deep down inside, I was still an asshole. I may not be physically sleeping with another woman, but I was obsessing over one. Fiona didn’t know my need for her was rooted in quiet desperation to displace my growing desire for Misha.

  And with God as my witness, I’d do everything in my power to make sure she never would.

  My uncle called.

  “Neph, we’re going to have a meeting with some business connections in a few days. I need you to be here in your best dressed outfit. This could mean big money for the company.”

  “Sure thing,” I said. My uncle didn’t ask for much. But when it was time to show up, it was time to show up, no questions asked.

  I looked through my closet. None of the suits I had felt crisp and up to par. I needed something fresh, and didn’t have time to get anything dry cleaned, so I headed to North Park Mall.

  Thank God for commission salesmen. I wasn’t much of a shopper. Sales associates at higher end stores did my dirty work for me. I didn’t mind because they worked hard to ensure my business would fatten their paycheck.

  I tried on several slacks, chose a couple from Boss and Santorelli, and matched them with a couple of David Donahue trim fits that enhanced my physique. I then added a Boss suit to complete the look. The tailor would have my work ready in an hour.

  I was checking out at the register, securing the alterations order so that it could be picked up after getting something from the food court. The salesgirl was taking a little longer than expected, stating the register was moving slower than usual.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, her eyes wide and apologetic.

  “It’s okay,” I chuckled. I gave her a warm smile to indicate I wasn’t angry about the circumstances. I leaned against a nearby wooden fixture and checked my phone to see if anything interesting was happening on Facebook or Instagram.

  “Hello, I’m here from store 623 to pick up a navy Zegna.”

  The voice was melodic and crisp. It made my heart skip a beat, but I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to be obviously nosy. Besides, I was completely engrossed in pictures of wet boobs on my Instagram timeline. Big, wet, round, juicy boobs. My mouth watered thinking about sucking on a nice pair of tits. Damn, I needed Fiona to stop playing.

  “Oh, you’re the new manager for men’s in 623?” the salesgirl said, her voice heightened with interest and a slight touch of excitement.

  “Yes, but just Assistant Department manager.”

  There was something about the huskiness of the woman’s tone that sent a tingle in my balls, and a warmth in my chest. Fuck wet tits. I couldn’t ignore her anymore.

  I looked up to check out the mysterious woman at the cash wrap. She was exceptionally curvy, and my dark hair fell like a river of coiffed waves and curls down her back. My heart started beating faster and faster as I looked at her.

  From the back she kind of looks like…

  Misha.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alex

  Shit. She didn’t look like Misha.

  She was Misha.

  There she was, the object of my desires in the flesh, standing less than 500 feet away from me. And as if she realized she were being watched, she looked in my direction and started to smile until she realized who I was.

  I wasn’t some random customer. I was that asshole who strung her heart on a line and left her hanging out to dry after a night I hoped we’d both never forget.

  Perhaps it was guilt, but I couldn’t even speak. I wanted to say something, anything, but I was at a loss for words. For the first time, ever, there was nothing witty or smooth for me to say.

  She looked at me with subtle shock. Her gorgeous cat-like eyes widened, and then relaxed. Her gaze was lightly expectant, as if she were waiting for me to say something. I simply swallowed, quietly, and nodded. A touch of mild discouragement blinked in her eyes, before they were shielded with a professional demeanor. She nodded, carefully slid her gaze the floor and turned away from me.

  Why the fuck can’t I speak up?

  I was embarrassed. I’ve never not been able to address a woman, especially one whose body I’ve pleasured. Once I’d touched a woman, she was usually under my spell, waiting for me to give her instructions on our next move.

  Instead, she had me hooked. I lusted her and hated myself even more in that moment. I was supposed to be in control.

  She shifted her hips, jutting her ass out to one side. That subtle move forced throb of desire to shoot straight from my heart to my cock. I wanted to walk up behind her, wrap my arms around her, let the world know she was mine.

  My lust grew even stronger when I realized that while she was still as curvy as ever, her figure was tighter. She must have been exercising; if so, the results were amazing.

  Our awkward moment was broken by the salesgirl, who emerged from the back with the suit. It was a deep blue suit. Quality material, but a little rich for my taste.

  “I’ve got some other boxes in the back. Your department manager was supposed to have them picked up yesterday and forgot. My boss is at lunch and two of my coworkers are with customers. If you can wait, I can page loss prevention to help you with the merchandise?”

  “That would be fine, thank you.”

  She took the suit, and reached for a suit bag. As she wrapped up the merchandise, she remarked. “This one isn’t heavy, if you’ll inform LP, I’ll bring it out to my car while I wait.”

  “No problem.”

  “Thank you! Nice meeting you!” She smiled at the salesgirl, and walked off. If she weren’t in those heels, I promise she’d probably have sped if possible.

  She didn’t even bother to look back at me.

  A beep sounded on the register, confirming my alterations order had been placed.

  “Here you go sir,” my salesgirl said, handing me the ticket. “Sorry about the delay. I’ll call you when your items are ready. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

  “No problem. Thanks.” I
shoved the claim ticket in his pocket and started toward the escalator. My heart continued to beat like an African drum. I wanted another glimpse of her if possible, but I didn’t want her to see me looking.

  As I approached the escalator, I asked one of the associates, “Excuse me. Where’s store 623?”

  “Frisco, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  I made my way up, but by the time I attempted to catch up with her, she was gone. I kicked my own ass and I cursed myself in the head the entire drive back to my house.

  “Dammit Alex! You know all the right things to say any other time. You just couldn’t figure out a smooth way to talk to her this time?”

  For the first time, I was crushed by embarrassment. No woman had ever rendered me speechless the way she just had.

  Misha wasn’t just struggling in sales anymore. She’d moved up to department management. In men’s clothing at that.

  I tallied estimates of how many men ogled Misha as she helped them coordinate outfits and my blood boiled. It didn’t matter if she only had one man interested in her, my possessive rage surged. Any of these men were a threat and he didn’t care for them at all.

  My phone’s alert sounded. It was Fiona, asking me what I was up to today. Oh now she has time for me.

  I didn’t feel like having company, unless it was Misha. But it had been too long since I’d seen Fiona, and judging by the responses in her texts, she was in the mood, which meant she’d be willing to get more than wild that night.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Alex

  I was proud of himself. Fiona came over, and she exploded under my touch, giving me a much-needed experience that helped me take the edge off. She had no idea the entire time I was inside her, I was thinking about Misha’s juicy curves, wishing it were her instead.

  Well, she got hers, right?

  It was a little after midnight when I awakened with a start. My stomach churned. I was thirsty. Fiona stirred only slightly when I slipped from around her, pulling my arm from below her narrow waist.

  I padded lightly to the refrigerator, opening the door to grab a bottle of water. Twisting the top off, I read the time on the microwave.

  A little after midnight, my ass. Try 1:55 AM.

  I tried to check my phone. It was dead. I sucked my teeth with frustration; I hadn’t been good with charging my phone as of late.

  I decided to surf the net on my laptop while I finished my water and waited for my phone to charge enough to bring it to life.

  I opened the browser and immediately logged onto my dating profile. Logging on was more out of boredom than necessity. I enjoyed looking at different profiles of women, seeing what they thought were their most flattering images, and reading their stories.

  Those seeking love had no idea how crazy they came off. They ranged from boring to borderline.

  I checked a couple of my messages. Due to being in a relationship, I didn’t indulge conversations like I used to.

  Most were indistinct and bland; those never required a response. Reading them still gave me an ego boost, especially when women got straight to the point and wanted sex.

  I never portrayed myself as the type of man who would be interested in casual arrangements on these sites, but I never turned down the offer for a good time when the ripe opportunity presented itself either.

  As I searched and prowled profiles, a familiar face caught my eye. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. It was Misha.

  I hovered over her picture, ready to click. Then I realized I needed to be logged out so she couldn’t see I’d been to her page. I needed to figure out a way to look at her profile without taking any chances to expose the fact that I was checking her out again.

  My cousin used to right click a guy’s profile, copy the URL link, without going to the page, and then logged out. She’d paste the URL in an incognito window and look away. Following her lead, I did the same. Voilà!

  Some of Misha’s pictures had been replaced with newer ones. They were all beautiful, but the newer ones had a fresh air about them. She was more breathtaking in these. She gazed directly into the camera and radiated confidence I hadn’t seen before.

  Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl from New York. She got tired of the hustle and bustle of ad agency life, which meant spending hours upon hours with her butt tied to a chair, gobbling an obscene amount of croissants and coffee with way too little exercise.

  Seeking a better opportunity for herself, she shed her skin and moved halfway across the country to Dallas. She loved the improved quality of life and the slower pace – and even found the job of her dreams. But she’s still lacking her Prince…

  … What kind of Prince is this charismatic, creative, sensual woman looking for? Well, let’s just say, chivalry goes a long way, but honesty and respect goes even further.

  She loves to laugh, has a wild sense of humor, and is known to even do her man’s laundry when she’s feeling particularly inclined. (I – mean she – loves the warmth and fragrance of fresh clothes from the dryer...)

  BEEP BEEP!!

  I was just getting into Misha’s profile when Fiona’s phone started chiming. I wasn’t insecure, nosy, or jealous, so I ignored them. A text message at 2 AM was nothing to start a fire over.

  But five minutes later, when the phone started to ring, I changed my tune. Texting was one thing; calling was another. And nobody called this late unless there was an emergency… or booty call.

  I huffed, sliding the laptop from my lap and onto the couch. I didn’t like the interruption, and considered giving whoever answered on the other end an explicit piece of my mind.

  Fiona’s phone illuminated the room. The screen identified the caller as Lea. I never knew of any Lea, but we were about to become acquainted very quickly.

  “Hello.”

  “It’s 2 AM. Where are you?!”

  I jerked at the caller’s tone. Lea wasn’t female.

  “Fiona’s asleep. I answered because it had to be pretty important for anyone to call this late. Who’s this?”

  I spoke up much more clearly so he could hear the deep, masculine quality of my voice.

  “I’m Leo, her fiancé. Who are you?”

  Fiancé?

  Fiona never mentioned dating anyone else, but that would explain why she had become much more unavailable.

  I was in the mood to destroy her fairytale life with the guy on the other side of the screen. But I had just the littlest piece of my heart left. If this guy wanted to know where his fiancée was, she could tell him herself.

  “Hold on, man. I’ll get her for you.” He turned on the light. “Fiona,” he called out. “Fiona wake up. Your fiancé is on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”

  I enunciated every word loud and clear, as if I were announcing it to an entire conference.

  Fiona groaned and shifted. She took the phone, but didn’t wake up completely until she heard Leo’s voice on the other line. Then a new woman emerged. She jerked awake.

  “Oh, hi baby! I – I’m sorry. I was just hanging out late with Jenna after yoga and we lost track of time…”

  My lip curled with disgust at her blatant lie. Jenna was her excuse for everything these days, eh?

  She sat up, kicking her legs out of bed and looking for her things. She glanced at me, her panicked eyes pleading me not to break her cover.

  I restrained myself as I listened to Fiona fabricate the circumstances of her evening before my very eyes.

  “Oh him? That’s Alex. He’s nobody to worry about. He’s Jenna’s friend… Baby, I’m serious. Jenna and I were knocked out when you called. Alex was over here helping us install something. He’s a very light sleeper.”

  Fiona kept her eyes trained on me while she spoke. She was set on making sure I didn’t say or do anything to blow her cover. For what it’s worth, she seemed to be flying by with her excuse. I shook my head as I realized what a fool I’d been.

  My anger unraveled, triggered because I’d been pl
ayed, diminished for a fool, and reduced to nothing but “Jenna’s friend” in the wake of this asshat I’d never knew existed. This explained everything from her weird attitude to her recent unavailability. She wasn’t available when she was in a whole other relationship.

  There wasn’t any reason to waste any more time on us. This was the clarity I needed to realize Fiona and I weren’t going anywhere. She was dense as a doornail, and I didn’t share women when I committed himself to one. I realized now that the woman I needed was the one who’d gotten away.

  Misha.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Alex

  Having heard enough, I left the bedroom. I grabbed another bottle of water, sat back down on the couch with my laptop, and minimized Misha’s profile from the screen.

  I turned on Netflix, and browsed for a comedy special. I needed the laughs right now. I kept up as if I were appearing to ignore Fiona, but I listened silently as she made nervous promises to hurry up and come home immediately.

  When the call ended she ran to me. “Alex, I can explain.”

  “Shhh.” I continued to surf Netflix nonchalantly. “You don’t have to explain. I heard everything loud and clear. You’re his fiancée. That’s all I needed to hear.”

  “It’s not what you think. We don’t have any spark between us. I love you.”

  Her confession fell on deaf ears. Love wouldn’t deny me so easily.

  “Please listen to me. Her voice cracked as she begged. She knelt in front of me and started tearing. “My parents approve of him. He’s the mayor’s nephew. His father owns one of construction firms we partner with.”

  I nodded. I checked the time. 2:45 in the morning. I’d had enough of these shenanigans. I needed to go back to sleep.

  “It’s fine.” I stood up, walked past Fiona, and unlocked the door. “I see where you stand. You should leave.”