...“So,” she said, leaning back in her bean bag chair. “Why don’t you tell me about the dark angel? It’ll help me conjure up my faux spell.”

“How exactly could I follow that up with words?”

“True. The body did the talking both in and out of the room.” She leaned forward and grabbed hold of his hands. “Now I want you to close your eyes think about him. It can be sweet, it can be raunchy, just as long as he’s on your mind.”

Now that wouldn’t be a problem. He could fantasize about Pierce all day and all night, draw him up in his mind and paint him with vivid, sexual flesh tones. He could already see his perfectly tanned body, every inch of him bronzed, his chest hard and dusted with hair leading down to his belly.

“Are you thinking of him?” Gidget asked.

“Yeah,” he answered, his eyes tightly shut as though the vision would disappear if he didn’t.

Outside, Jake had started karaoke, much to the delight of the crowd and most likely his new neighbors, who were in for a wild treat. A terrible version of a Kylie Minogue song started playing and over it, Jake started his dedication to the crowd. Any moment now the drag queens would show up, all of them impersonating the Australian singer, and take over the party.

“Still thinking about him?” the Witch asked. “I think I know the perfect spell.”

He struggled for a moment to clear his mind and focus on Pierce. Back to where he left off. Ah, right there, his hard, flat belly and hips that made Jory salivate. The bite marks he’d left on their last encounter had undoubtedly faded, but he still remembered putting them there, how Pierce had grunted and sighed, begging for more. He could almost taste his ex’s salty flesh. Almost…

“This song goes out to my best friend in the world, Jory Peterson whom I hope to God is getting laid. Has anyone seen Jory? It’s been hours, folks. Is that a good sign or what?”

Jory’s eyelids popped open, flashes of lights disrupting his vision. For a moment he thought he might be falling, but he remembered he was already on the floor.

“Whoa,” he said.

The lights came from outside, possibly some sort of stage set up on the patio. Jory didn’t even want to think about how much money Jake had put into this party, but he knew Jake always went all-out when it came to entertainment.

“Mahi, mahi, bring him back; mahi, mahi, bring him back,” Gidget chanted. She made sounds like his last computer right before it crashed and never came back up, and he stared at her, thinking she put on a pretty damn good show. She looked entranced, her eyes rolled back in her head, which was creepy considering she had on a green mask and a pink party dress. “The man in your mind now in your bed; the man in your mind, now in your bed. So be it.”

“Mahi-mahi,” he said. Great, a chant for a type of fish he’d had for dinner several nights ago in a lemon butter sauce. That had to work magic, and if it didn’t there was always tuna, tuna and McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish.

She snapped her fingers twice and her body wrenched as though she went into some sort of spasm. Eyes opened, she smiled and took a deep breath. “I think it worked.”

Jory cocked a brow. Like some pathetic display would change his mind and make him believe. “And why do you think that?”