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A new line of ink, bold, fresh, and burning white-hot like a brand, had appeared on the inside of my wrist. It was her name. And I knew without a doubt that this woman who walked out of my dreams and into my shop on a rainy October night was always meant to show up. Because, somehow, she was part of the curse too.
It’s a time-tested truth that the best-looking men are always the absolute worst.
“You shouldn’t be asking these questions. Some things should be left alone.” “Like what things?” I pressed.
His voice all smoke and midnight, he said, “Bad things.”
Oh, except for the fun fact that any woman who fell in love with a Rousseau man was doomed to a tragic death. So that was perfect. Nothing says “great idea” like falling for a man who might be my own personal grim reaper.
“What you’re asking for, smart-ass, is a spanking.”
A jolt of lust rocked my body. Wide-eyed and breathless, my heart pounding, I stared at him. Spanking? Yes, that sounded like an excellent idea.
She tasted like sweet dreams and bad decisions. And I was already in too deep.
I felt like a starving man. Like I had no choice.
the second my mouth claimed hers, it seemed inevitable, as if it had been written in the stars long before we met.
It felt like fate . . . and fuck, did t...
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“You don’t know me, but I’m as stubborn as a drunk goat on a narrow bridge.”
“That’s the dumbest metaphor I’ve ever heard.”
“How about this? I’m as stubborn as if a drunk goat and a bri...
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The only thing worse than a smart-ass woman was a smart-ass woman who was right.
know what you’re thinking,”
“But I’m not that heartless.”
“Actually, I am, but I’m also too curious to not want to know why the curse has suddenly changed to go af...
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“One must be lost for the other to be free.”
“He also said that a sleeping lion is still a lion, and I should take care not to step on its tail or risk waking it up.”
It figured I’d fall for a witch. My taste in women always ran toward the feral ones.
