Spicy Little Curses

by J.T. Geissinger

Because when I looked back up at Dax, the ink on his arms shifted. As if, under his skin, it was alive.

I’d been seeing her in my dreams for months. Not that I was about to fucking tell her that.

Because, somehow, she was part of the curse too.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure if I wanted the truth anymore. I had the sinking feeling that once I found it, I’d wish I hadn’t.

Nothing to do with the way his voice sent involuntary shivers of pleasure down my spine. Or how I found myself wondering what his laugh sounded like.

“One must be lost for the other to be free.”

I should have pushed him away. Should have kept arguing. But when he reached for me, I didn’t resist. He crushed his mouth to mine.