Jodi Redford - That Voodoo You Do

Clarissa’s smile was syrupy. “You weren’t specific, shug .”

Logan twisted the cap off the beer bottle, the resulting pop and fizz from the escaping air muffling his grumble.

“Everyone keeps promising me that I’m safe here. But frankly, I don’t feel safe anywhere.” Anxiety trembling in Jemma’s voice, she inched her plate away. “I don’t want to spend the rest of eternity hiding out from a ghost and her zombies. I have a life and family waiting for me back home that I can’t just abandon.”

Helplessness seized Griffin. It killed him that he couldn’t give her the peace and security she’d known before her world came tumbling down—all because of him. If he could go back in time and not give in to his overwhelming passion for her…

Ah Christ, would he be able to control himself? He’d wanted Jemma with an almost painful intensity from the first moment he’d set eyes on her all those years ago. Every day since then had been both heaven and hell. He’d basked in their friendship, savored every innocent touch, all the while aching for so much more.

Clarissa cleared her throat, breaking him from his private turmoil. “What if there’s a way to send Bloody Nettie and her zombies to a permanent afterlife?”

Jemma straightened in her seat. “Is there?”

“Possibly.”

Griffin frowned. “You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“Because I don’t have anything concrete. This is merely a suspicion I’ve been mulling over.” Clarissa eyed Jemma. “I don’t want to raise your hopes without proof to back me up.”

“I don’t care. Hope is better than spending the rest of my days in hiding.”

Clarissa nodded before waving her hands in animated exuberance. “The key has always been in your blood. If you possess the power to break Rose’s spell, you have the power to annihilate Nettie.”

Jemma gulped loud enough for the entire table to hear it. “But I don’t know the first thing about magic. Crap, I didn’t even know I was a witch ten hours ago.”

“We’ll strengthen your magic,” Clarissa said, her eyes sparkling with unrestrained excitement.

“How?”

Clarissa leaned back, her smile smug. “Sex.”

“ What ?” Jemma’s eyes practically grew larger than her dinner plate.

“It’s your trigger. Sex. With a familiar. That’s what will power up your magic, I know it.”

Jemma gave her head a fierce shake. “Let me get this straight. Thirty minutes ago you were throwing a hissy about Griff and I sleeping together. Now you’re encouraging it?”

“The circumstances are unique, but…yes.” Clarissa’s tone held a hesitancy that prompted the fine hairs on the back of Griffin’s neck to stand on end. He was well acquainted with the sensation. Usually it proceeded the exact moment when the shit hit the fan.

“Along with Logan.”

Griff paced in front of the bookcases lining the nearest wall of the mansion’s library, his furious strides practically burning a path in the Oriental rug. Wishing he’d park himself in one spot, Jemma massaged her aching neck muscles.

As if reading her thoughts, Griff halted in front of Clarissa, his big body primed for confrontation. “I’m not sharing Jemma with that damn wolf,” he said between his clenched teeth for the thousandth time.

Clarissa arched her eyebrows, apparently unfazed by Griff’s uncharacteristic display of temper. “It’s not your decision to make.”

Griff spun to face Jemma. “Do you want to do this?” Despite the ferocity of his scowl, she detected a hint of worry lurking in his eyes. That tiny spark of uncertainty threatened to do her in. If they didn’t have a captive audience, she’d take him into her arms and show him firsthand that he was the only lover she desired. Instead, she’d have to settle for reassuring him with her words.

“Of course not. I’ve never made a habit of sleeping with total strangers. I’m sure not starting now.” She rubbed her forehead wearily before glancing at Clarissa. “I don’t understand why we have to involve Logan in this anyway. Griff managed to fry the locks off my magical energy the first time. Surely he’s all I need to get the job done.”

“Possibly, if given enough time. But we don’t have that luxury. Logan’s added energy is precisely the catalyst you need.” Clarissa brushed by Griff and gently squeezed Jemma’s arm. “Believe me, I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you.” She ducked her head closer, a devilish twinkle in her irises. “But in the scheme of things, is having a pair of sexy men dedicated to bringing you to the heights of pleasure really such a hardship?”

A low, smoky laugh floated from the vicinity of the hall. Jemma pivoted to discover Logan leaning in an indolent slouch against the doorframe. His mouth curled in a grin that was…well…wolfish. “Damn, shug, didn’t know you swung that way.”

Clarissa tensed, her hand falling away. “I thought I told you to wait outside.”

“What, and miss all these interestin’ revelations?” Logan strode into the room, the loose, easy roll of his hips conveying a lazy, predatory grace. “Besides, I’d like the opportunity to talk to Jemma alone.”

Griffin growled. “Over my dead body.”

“Can’t say I don’t relish the sound of that.” Logan ran his tongue over the wickedly sharp points of his incisors.

“Would you two stop it?” Impatience whipped through Clarissa’s demand. She glanced at Jemma. “Are you okay with Logan’s request?”

Griff bristled. “No, she’s—” He froze in place when Clarissa snapped her fingers.

Clarissa returned her attention to Jemma. “Are you?”

Ignoring the question, Jemma frowned at Griff, who remained locked in suspended animation. “Um, is he all right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll release Griffin in a minute. I just didn’t want him influencing your decision.”

Sliding her bemused stare from Griff, Jemma peered at Logan. Though he offered her a reassuring smile, she couldn’t help feeling like an unwary lamb who’d wandered into the wolf’s den. She sucked in a deep breath and pushed aside her fanciful misgivings. “I’ll speak to Logan, but it doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about having sex with him.”

Clarissa inclined her head. “Why don’t you both go into the parlor? I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

She couldn’t help wondering if Clarissa intended to guarantee that by performing her wham-bam-frozen-man routine on everyone. Hugging her chest, she shuffled from the room. Feeling slightly guilty that she might have insulted Logan with her adamancy about not sleeping with him, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean anything personal by what I said earlier.”

A boyish grin flashed across Logan’s face, drawing attention to his dark good looks. “Don’t worry on it, darlin’. Though I have to say, convincing a woman to share her bed with me isn’t usually such a problem.”

She wasn’t surprised. There was no denying that Logan Scott was sex personified. Just looking at him made her think of sweaty bodies tangled on top of satin sheets. Resisting the urge to scrub her palms across her suddenly flushed face, she led the way into the parlor.

Struggling against a wave of self-consciousness, she settled on one of the wingchairs. “If you’re hoping to talk me into agreeing to Clarissa’s plan, you’re wasting your time. I’m just not wired for threesomes.” God, she couldn’t even say the word without her cheeks blazing. How in the world could anyone think she’d actually be able to engage in one?

No sooner did she have that thought and an intriguing visual popped into her mind. Her, sandwiched between Griff and Logan, their strong hands caressing her everywhere and their cocks buried in her pussy and ass as they drove her insane with pleasure.