Page 21
Chapter 6. Jen
A cold breeze rolled across my bare arms, sending a sharp prickle over my skin. I groaned, rolling over, fumbling for the bedsheets, only to grasp at nothing. I cracked one eye open, barely conscious, only to find the bedding had vanished. From the corner of the room, BooDini quivered in excitement, its sheet form fluttering as though it couldn’t contain whatever had it so giddy.
I buried my face into the pillow with a muffled groan, curling inward, tucking my limbs into myself for warmth. The floorboards creaked softly, followed by the familiar sound of rustling fabric, and suddenly, my pillow was gone too.
I let out a long, exhausted sigh. I did not have the energy for this.
“Leave me alone, BooDini,” I mumbled, tucking my chin into my crossed arms. “I just want to sleep.”
BooDini fluttered its sheets wildly in response. Yeah, it wasn’t going to let me sleep until I got up and did what it wanted.
Rolling out of bed, I slipped my feet into the pair of slippers BooDini had conveniently left for me. I snatched my tattered hoodie off the desk chair, pulling it on with a shiver before leveling a tired glare at BooDini. “What is it you need to show me so badly?”
The door creaked open in response. BooDini wasted no time, gliding out into the hallway with an air of urgency.
I rolled my eyes but followed.
As I padded down the dimly lit corridor, the scent of lavender thickened in the air, wrapping around me like an invisible fog. A soft glow flickered from the crack in the bathroom door at the end of the hall, candlelight dancing against the wooden frame.
“I don’t want another bath,” I murmured, lowering my voice as if afraid of offending the house—especially since we’djustmade up.
BooDini, completely unmoved by my reluctance, lifted its sheeted arm and beckoned. It wasn’t taking no for an answer.
With a grumble, I shuffled forward, arms crossed, lips pursed as I came to a halt in front of the bathroom door. “Fine,” I muttered. “But this better be good.”
A deep, guttural groan rumbled from beyond the door.
Heat pooled low in my stomach, a strange, unwanted flicker of desire skittering over my skin—only to be swiftly drowned by cold, hard fear.
There’s a stranger in your house, Jen. And you have no magic to protect yourself.
My pulse spiked, breath hitching as my gaze darted around the hallway in search of anything I could use as a weapon. With few options, my fingers closed around the neck of a vase perched on a small console table.
I cut a sharp glare at BooDini. “You better not have let an ax-wielding murderer into my house,” I hissed under my breath.
BooDini flapped its sheets excitedly, as if completely unbothered by the fact that there was an intruder in the next room.
I swallowed hard, steadying myself, fingers tightening around the vase.
With a final breath, I pushed the bathroom door open.
The most ridiculously handsome man I’d ever seen was in my bath. Chestnut hair clung to his face in damp strands, framing sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline. His eyes were closed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in a way that sent an annoyingly traitorous flutter through my chest. His head was tipped back, exposing the thick, corded muscles of his neck, one arm lazily draped over the side of the tub, his biceps flexing withslow, deliberate tension as his other hand moved beneath the water.
Is he...?
Is he jerking off in my bath?!
Horror crawled up my spine, heat flooding my face as I barely stopped myself from whipping around on instinct. Because my gaze had snagged on the bath tray. Or rather, what was sitting open on the bath tray.
My manuscript.
Not only had this intruder—who had clearly been let in by BooDini, the traitor—broken into my house, but he was now lounging in my bath, touching himself while reading my unfinished book.
My mouth opened and closed, rage crackling like a live wire beneath my skin.
The man slowly turned his head toward me, as if only just now realizing he wasn’t alone. His eyes fluttered open—rich, bourbon-hued irises meeting mine—and for half a second, I could havedrownedin them.
“Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my house?” I snapped, my voice a low, dangerous growl.
Table of Contents
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- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21 (Reading here)
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