Disenchanted Read Online Free Page A

superhuman with all that power pulsating through them. Getting to put the top down and let in the Iowa sunshine is like the icing on the cake. Yeah, I know someone as pigmentally–challenged as I am shouldn’t be running around in a convertible. Call it a guilty pleasure tempered with some heavy duty SPF.
    The 390 horses under the hood beg to run free and I’m tempted to turn off onto the highway letting the Mustang gallop as fast as she can. My stomach growls, a nasty reminder, forcing me to obey the speed limit and press on to my destination.
    I could have had toast and black coffee, then gone for a longer drive, but I need milk, and the thought of ice cream is a little too tempting. Who wants chain store variety with a dairy so close by?
    Udder Cravings opened in the late nineties and the name says it all. You crave their dairy products after your first sample. Moocha Java, or a longer drive? Milk in my coffee, or a longer drive? My stomach growls again and my tongue can almost feel the cool, creamy goodness of their ice cream. Oh yeah, I made the right choice.
    With the car giving that false sense of supremacy I picture Alric Brand, the encounter at the salon, his appearance outside my window and the dreams from the night before. The undeniable urges to either tell him off, or toss him down war within me. Maybe a combination of both would the answer to my problems.
    Sure, that’s the ticket. Scream at him for being a rude stalker then rip his clothes off and ride him until he screams. A nervous giggle bubbles up as I slowly turn off the paved road, wincing with each pebble that bounces from the tires. I hate taking the 'Stang down gravel, but it can’t be helped, considering my destination is on a country road.
    The combination of the rumble of the motor and a road that severely needs grading agitates the sensations triggered by my little fantasy. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks and it has little to do with the sun. What am I doing thinking about ravaging some guy I barely know? Gods, maybe I do need one of those little battery operated toys Nyssa is always praising.
    That’s the best kind of fantasy , an evil little voice whispers in one ear.
    You caught him staring at your window, says the voice of reason in the other, he could be dangerous.
    Dangerous can be good , argues the devilish voice .
    I groan, vanquishing the voices of temptation and reason as I pull into the drive, parking alongside a gorgeous Valkyrie. I wonder who it belongs to. No one in town I know owns one, not that I know everyone in town, but a bike like that leaves a lasting impression.
    The bell jangles as I open the door, and my mouth nearly hits the floor. Alric Brand stands at the counter sampling ice cream with one of the owners.
    “Keely,” Eileen calls, waving me in. “We made up some of your favorite ice cream. I even packed a gallon for you.”
    With those words, Mr. Brand is all, but forgotten, until I catch the smirk on his face. He’s leaning against the counter, as if he owns the joint, laughing. Probably at the imaginary drool running down my chin as I picture a gallon of coffee ice cream. Definitely putting a bur in my shorts. Turning back to Eileen I feel the tension as well as heat in my cheeks with the forced smile.
    “Great Eileen, I also need some milk and cream.” I hope she will ring me up while I pull the items from the cooler. No such luck. She scoops up another sample for Alric. Maneuvering around him, I place them on the counter.
    “You should try the chocolate milk. It comes from real chocolate cows.” Part of me hopes he’s not just a pretty face and smart enough to catch on to the sarcasm.
    Eileen laughs and shakes her head. “Pardon Keely’s manners Mr. Brand. Just a little joke we like to tell.”
    “It’s Ric.” His smile lights the room.
    “Ric,” Eileen says, with a girlish giggle.
    Unjustified jealousy rises as I watch the two of them. Pulling out my wallet, I place the exact change on