Free Magic and Mayhem: When You Witch Upon A Star (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Melanie James

twigs didn’t register right away. Convinced Gina was still prowling around, I dismissed it.
    Straddling him, I worked my way through the buttons of his shirt. Every time I shifted my hips, I could feel the bulge in his jeans press against the sheer fabric of my panties. Thanking God I’d chosen to wear a dress, I rocked rhythmically against him.
    I was willing to take things all the way, but without protection I would settle for anything and everything, short of losing my virginity. Hell, I’d read through those Cosmo articles and learned a few things myself.
    Something brushed my leg. Fur.
    Fur!
    A quick, alarmed glance was all it took to see the distinct pattern of a raccoon’s tail flickering across my calf. For the first time in my life, I was exploring the wonderful new world of sex with the hottest guy I’d ever seen. It would be just my luck for him to vanish. Poof! Hot guy turns into raccoon and scampers away.
    Pressing my hand down on his chest, I begged, “No—no, no, no. Please not yet. Don’t shift! Not now, Rollan! Try to hold off!”
    “Strange Chicago slang? Don’t worry, I can last.”
    Something new touched my leg. It reminded me of a cat’s nose. When I turned my head to look, everything shut down. It was a raccoon—a real raccoon—and it wasn’t Rollan.
    “Jessica, it’s a raccoon. Don’t move. As long as we don’t frighten it, we’ll be fine. Unless it has rabies.”
    We sat there frozen, statues of lovers discarded on the side of a lonely road. The raccoon nosed around us for two or three minutes before turning away. I thought about asking Rollan if it was anyone he knew.
    “Would you like to go to my place?” Rollan suggested.
    Now, sometimes it pays to think about exactly what you’re going to say and give the words a test run in your head. This was one of those times.
    The voice in my head practiced what I’d say. “Your place? We both know what we’ll be doing, but I must tell you two important things. One, I’m a virgin. Really. I’d appreciate you not being all freaked out about it or saying things like ‘I don’t want to be your first.’ Two, I’m allergic to birth control pills. So unless you have condoms, things can go pretty far, but not all the way. On the other hand, to be honest, if you keep a Costco-sized supply of condoms in your bedroom it’ll make me wonder what kind of guy you really are.”
    I thought for a second and realized my response, while probably necessary, would really kill the moment. That damn virginity could stick around with me a while longer. I chose a different route, exploration—as suggested by Cosmopolitan’s June issue.
    “Shh. We have all summer.” I went right back to kissing his neck, my fingers stumbling over the tiny buttons as I slowly opened his shirt. I took my time, using my tongue and hands to learn every inch of his toned chest. Rollan took advantage when I leaned back up to kiss him, his mouth working my neck when he could. His hands worked their way under my dress and my bra magically disappeared.
    I lost the advantage of being in charge when Rollan sat up, taking me with him. He guided me down until my back was flat against the ground. His hands cupped my hips and pulled me closer toward his waiting mouth.
    I knew what he wanted. I’d read about it more than enough times, in just about every single romance book I’d ever read. I was more than curious about the act. I didn’t need to be encouraged; I just needed to set my fears aside and go with the flow, like the article in Cosmo told strong independent women to do.
    With my mind made up, I simply stood up and undressed. Rollan sat back on his heels, watching my every move with hunger in his eyes. I knelt down beside him and tapped his shoulder, motioning for him to lie back. When he was in place, I turned around so my face was at the button of his jeans. Then, like the Cosmo girls I’d read about, I sucked in a deep breath, ignored the butterflies dancing in my