Chapter 28: More Than A Physical Connection

*Kyle*
Standing up, I fight to push my erect manhood back inside my jeans and zip them. I take a long steadying breath before walking away from her. What was it with women thinking that they could use sex as a weapon to draw a man in to fall in love?
When I reach the door, I turn around to look at her. I see her lying on the bed,her legs crossed, and her hands covering her face.
“Don’t forget your place, witch. You are a surrogate and that’s the beginning and end of what is going on between us.”
I open the door and walk out into the corridor, slamming the door behind me.
Upon my exit, I’m surprised to see Yasmeen standing there with her hands over her mouth. Had she been eavesdropping? What the fuck?
She snickers, before saying, “I can give you a better time, Alpha Kyle.”
What in the smoldering night air had scorched her brain?
I don’t think I have the time to fend off another irritating little girl with misplaced expectations.
As I walk toward my office, I speak to Beta Mathias through the mind-link.
“I need you to summon the teller.”
Mathias replies urgently. “Sorry for my bluntness, Alpha, but how? No one knows who she is or even how to contact her. She comes to us; we never summon her.”
“Then find any other psychic around that we can see first thing tomorrow morning. We have a situation that needs to be taken care of urgently.”
***
“Cigarette or cigar, which one do you prefer?” Elsa asks me.
The air in the murky small room behind the hair salon is cloudy from all the cigarette smoke. I watch as the curvy woman in front of me, who’s got a slim lit cigarette dangling from her lips, offers me a wooden box with the mentioned selections.
“I am not really a smoker, but maybe a cigar will do,” I respond as I stretch my hand to retrieve a cigar from the box.
Elsa nods, the action causing some ash from the cigarette in her mouth to fall onto her blouse. I am tempted to ask why it is important for us to smoke. I am not here for a social visit but rather for a reading.
She takes a lighter from somewhere inside her blouse near her chest and bends over to help me light the cigar. I comply and watch her walk over to the other side of the small table and take a seat.
“Go on, smoke,” she encourages.
Talk about a bad influence. I do occasionally enjoy a cigar with my scotch or whisky, but not during such an imperative visit.
“I am not here for refreshments…although I have never had cigars being offered as the refreshments. I would rather we get right into why I am here,” I say matter-of-factly.
I lean over the table, wanting to stub out the lit cigar onto the overflowing ashtray on the table, but Elsa stops me.
“Smoke the cigar,” she repeats adamantly.
I want to say no, but something in her tone tells me I will not get what it is I came here for if I don’t oblige her. I stubbornly place the cigar back in my mouth, take a puff, and blow out the smoke.
“Happy?” I ask.
“Again,” she demands.
Unholy gray smokes! What is this foolishness? Again, I find myself obeying and repeating the motion, which is such an odd feeling for me, since I’ve always been the one giving orders.
As the blurry smoke clings to the air above me, she adjusts the ridiculously small glasses she has on. She takes the cigarette out of her mouth and seems to be studying the blanket of smoke above me with keen interest.
“So, you found the woman who will save your life from the beast which threatens to devour you if the beast itself is not passed on to someone that is of your blood through the act of raw, naked urges?”
I shrug. Well, that was one way of putting it.
“Yes. I just want to know if there is a spell you can do to speed up the whole process?” I say.
I need the witch to get pregnant, as soon as possible, so that I can let the child incubate, keep my distance from the witch as she gestates, and most importantly, try to fight whatever spell she has cast on me. It will be hard, but the more she graces my bed, the more I feel a whole new beast awakening within me. Never have I ever felt so drawn to a woman as I am to Thelma.
“Some processes can’t be rushed; you have to allow things to unfold just as destiny intends them to. However, the clouds have to be radiant and full of water for them to release the rain we need for the harvest,” Elsa says as she stops studying the smoke that is now dissipating.
I have had enough of this woman. I feel she is simply wasting my time. From asking me to smoke for her fascination, to now telling me about the rain.
“Listen, I agree that we have been having one heck of a heat wave, but I am not here for some geography or science lesson on how rain is formulated. I need to know about the witch. When will she get pregnant?”
Elsa takes another slim cigarette from the box, using the one that has almost burnt to the stub to light it, before focusing on me.
“So impatient for the one who seeks to raise the very child that your woman bears; that will be an enormous test of your fortitude, and more importantly, patience. First, I would suggest you start calling the witch by her name, and practice more empathy to get what you want. A seed will not take root inside her unless she falls in love with you. Fertile soil of love is what is required,” Elsa says.
What in the chimney-psychic bullshit is she huffing?
“I am not in the market for love, woman. There is no way I am going to fall in love with anybody,” I spit.
“Your feelings on the matter are neither here nor there. If you won’t fall in love with her, that isn’t a problem. However, she has to fall in love with you for her to get pregnant. Only her willingness to carry your seed, out of the love she has in her heart for you, will produce the results you so seek.”
I frown. Last night didn’t the witch try to seduce me? Wasn’t that because she has fallen for me and is seeking I return her feelings? What was that whole seduction about if she isn’t already head over heels in love with me?