What the Hex

by Jessica Clare

“And the way he just looked at her, like he wanted to eat her up with his eyes.” He . . . did? That doesn’t sound like Willem in the slightest. Maybe he had indigestion.

The man just tongued my neck, and now my panties are sopping and I can’t think straight. If he wants to cast later . . . I’m going to be an absolute puddle.

She giggles at her own joke, and her nose scrunches up again, and it’s just so damned adorable that I want to reach over and kiss her.

“You’re more than seen. I can’t look away from you. Perhaps I should, since the last thing I should do is touch my familiar, but I can’t help myself. You’re the most frustrating, intoxicating woman I’ve ever met.”

I want to kiss her hard enough that she forgets about everything but me. No one gets to hurt her. No one gets to make her feel sad. She’s mine to protect, and if it means kissing her until she sees stars, then that’s absolutely what I’m going to do.

“It was?” I echo, surprised. “That’s exciting. I mean, he did offer to be my fuck buddy, but I never took him up on it.” “He what?” Will turns to me, indignant. I reach over and pat his thigh. “It was before we got together, baby.” “That doesn’t make me want to murder him less.”

“I know.” I brush my mouth over her knuckles, wanting to touch her more, wanting to devour her, wanting to pick her up and squeeze her tight. “Just . . . know that I love you.”