Capricorn Cursed by Sèphera Girón

guitar to take a glass.
    â€œLet’s toast to new jamming partners,” he said.
    â€œLet’s.” Natasha grinned as they clicked their glasses together. As they sipped their wine, she studied Craig. He was a pleasant enough fellow, his blue eyes bright, his blond hair curly, but he had a rather weak chin. He was slender, slight and his knee bounced with nervous energy. He wasn’t as handsome as Gus, but Gus wasn’t here. Gus was far more masculine, with a strong jaw and eyes that held many secrets. Craig’s eyes were curious and lively.
    â€œFlattery will get you everywhere,” Natasha said. “Okay, how do you want to do “Are you a Gemini?” she asked.
    â€œWhy, yes, I am. Hey, how did you know?”
    â€œJust part of what I do,” Natasha said as she sipped her wine.
    â€œWhat about you?”
    â€œCapricorn.”
    â€œOh. That’s right now, isn’t it? Did you just have a birthday?”
    â€œNot yet. Very soon,” she said.
    â€œNice. Another year older,” he said. “Here’s to your impending birthday.” He clinked his glass against hers again.
    â€œLet’s not rush it. I’m not so eager to get any older.”
    â€œWell, it’s not going to catch up to you for a while. You can’t be 30 yet,” he said.
    â€œI can read music or we can just jam,” Craig said eagerly. “I know these days it’s hard to find guitar players that can actually read.”
    â€œYes, it does seem to be a dying art,” she said. “However, you came here to jam, so let’s jam.”
    Natasha busied herself with preparing her violin while Craig returned to the guitar. “Can I play yours?” he asked.
    â€œOf course. Whatever you want.”
    It didn’t take long before they were playing with and around each other. The music soared through a wide variety of styles as they egged each other on. One minute they were playing folk, the next they were rocking. Their fingers flew as the sounds from the strings filled the air.
    At last, Natasha put down her violin. “That was great,” she said.
    â€œYes, it was,” Craig responded, his eyes shining with the exuberance of a session that had gone well.
    â€œWe should do it again sometime,” she said.
    â€œYes, we should.”
    They stared awkwardly at each other until Craig leaned over to kiss her. At first, Natasha was reluctant, but as his lips pursued hers, she fell into him.
    They kissed passionately in the music room, the vibrations of their jamming still hanging in the air. She could feel the music still swelling through Craig; he loved music as much as she did. She held him tightly, the gnawing in her stomach rumbling loudly.
    Craig pulled back.
    â€œAre you hungry?” he asked.
    â€œJust for you,” she said.
    â€œAre you sure? Why don’t you take a moment to eat?” he asked, reaching for the cheese tray.
    â€œNo, that won’t help my hunger. Kiss me again. Your lips feel so good on mine.”
    Craig pulled her close again and let his mouth merge with hers. His tongue wiggled into her mouth, and she played with it gently. Craig’s hands roamed up her back and down again to clutch her round bottom.
    He was growing hard—she could feel him pressing against her. She rubbed into him, and they swayed, kissing and holding each other as if dancing to an invisible band.
    â€œOver here,” Natasha said and led him to a large velvet couch. She sat on it and pulled him down on top of her. He kissed her some more, his slight, thin body wriggling over her. She touched his back, his small bottom, and sighed. His smell was in her nostrils, and her stomach cried out again.
    â€œIgnore it,” she said as he lifted up from her. She took the moment to unbutton his shirt and toss it on the floor. He had many tattoos of vines, skulls and mythical creatures along his chest and arms. “Oh, let me see,”