Page 45 of Witch Upon a Star
I shook my head. I was pretty positive, but I also didn’t want to change anything if I was wrong. “What would you do if I was pregnant?”
Starbucks lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a trick question?”
“No, it’s an honest one.”
“Clearly you don’t understand what beingminemeans. It means you belong to me, every part of you. From your hair down to your toes, it’s all mine.” He placed his hand between my legs, cupping my sex. My breath hitched, but he did not start to rub or dip inside me. It was more of a possessive hold than a sensual one. “And last I checked, Winnie, your ovaries and uterus were a part of you. Which means thatanychild that you have would be mine.”
I swallowed hard, my mind trying to process his declaration. “Even if you’re not the father?”
A low growl emanated from him, and he bared his teeth like an animal. “I damn wellbetterbe the father. But I also know that this world is a cruel and vicious place. And while I would rather die than face the reality that someone took you against your will, it would not change my feelingsfor you or the child that might come from such a heinous act.”
I hadn’t meant rape when I’d asked my question, and while his answer was dark, there was a reassurance in it. I appreciated his honesty, too. Then again, I would expect no less from him.
“I’m not on birth control,” I informed him.
“And I despise using condoms with you.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You do?” Only just last night, he’d told me he never had sex without one, even if the woman claimed she was on something.
He nodded. “The idea of a barrier between us feels wrong.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Well, as positive as I am that I’m clean, I should get myself tested before I take you bare again. If I thought for a second I wasn’t, I would have never taken you as I had.”
“I trust you,” I swore.
“That trust means everything to me,” he said earnestly. “I will never betray it, Calliope. I swear to you.”
“Good, because your penis will end up in a blender if you do.” I smile wickedly at him.
Though he winced, he did ask, “What, no boils?”
I shrugged. “Too clichéd for my taste. I much prefer a more straightforward method of blending your dick into a milkshake and making you drink it.”
He gagged. “Good to—” He gagged again. “Good to know,” he managed to get out.
“As for kids,” I said like I hadn’t just threatened his manhood, “why don’t we let the universe decide? What happens, happens.”
He blinked, and for a moment I thought I had startled him speechless. “That’s exactly what I’d thought in the sweat lodge. Like word for word what I’d said to myself.”
“Good. Then we’re on the same page.” I reached behind him and turned off the water. It was a good thing my dad had upgraded the house years ago to have a much larger hot water heater. We’d been in here so long that I was nearly a prune. “Now, we need to get out of here. We really need to keep ourselves hydrated today. Are you coming to the shop with me?”
“I’ll never be anywhere else.”
I pickedup my phone a second before it pinged with a notification. Starbucks had abandoned me in search of coffee while I was finishing up in the bathroom. I wasn’t offended; it was in the man’s nature, after all. Plus, he’d already combed my long hair out for me, so I figured that earned him some coffee. I made him promise to drink a full cup of water while he was waiting for his brew.
A video posted. It was Wet Wednesday if Starbucks was following his pattern. Since he was here with me, I figured the video had been scheduled earlier at some point. I really needed him to show me how to do that. All I knew was how to upload an edited video and publish it or do a live. I’d only ever done a live once, and got tongue-tied so much that I vowed never to do so again. I figured my minimal followers would be grateful for that.
I opened my phone case so it stood up on the counter, pressed Play, and picked up my straightener again.
He was standing close enough to the camera that the viewer couldn’t see his face. Just the top of his chest to just below his groin. I was a bit disappointed he was clothed, despite him still being sexy in them. I just preferred the alternative. I could make out the edges of his cut in addition to the black shirt and jeans he was wearing.
The video lighting was dark with a red tint. Bass music thumped like a techno club in the background as Starbucks reached for his belt one-handed. A female voice sang over my speakers that she was a bad girl followed by a low, masculine chuckle. I missed what it was the voiceover said because I was entirely too focused on what happened next.
He whipped his belt off in a single fluid motion. A bare, tattooed, muscular chest and stomach I now knew intimately well came onto my screen. I nearly dropped my straightener, and with shaky fingers, decided it was probably safer to put it down on my bathroom counter.
The music pulsed in the background as the angle changed as if Starbucks had laid himself over me and his body started moving as if he was fucking me—or the viewer. A shiver took over my body, remembering the feel of his weight on top of me.
