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“Lucky for me, you’re not all that sane. But you are . . .” I looked him up and down. “A descendant of Bigfoot?”
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. Hell, maybe I didn’t. Because the second my mouth claimed hers, it seemed inevitable, as if it had been written in the stars long before we met.
She looked up at the mist-shrouded moon and sighed. Closing her eyes briefly, she muttered, “Here goes nothing,” then spread her hands in front of her and addressed the tomb. “Open sesame!”
Hahahaha
It figured I’d fall for a witch. My taste in women always ran toward the feral ones.
Hehe
