Page 86

Story: Bewitched

I force the words out. “There’s a chance I’ll forget tonight.”

He raises his eyebrows. “What?” he says again, this time a little more alarmed.

I look him over, unsure just how much he knows about me.

“My magic…it feeds on my memories,” I admit. “Every time I use my power, I lose some. I don’t get to choose which ones. So…I really might forget tonight.”

Kane’s brows draw together, and I have no idea what he’s thinking.

“I just…wanted to let you know in case that changes things,” I add.

Realization sparks in his eyes. “That’swhy you stood me up back at Peel, isn’t it?” he says, putting the pieces together. As if the world makes so much more sense now that he knows he was never truly rejected.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod.

Kane frowns a little. “Do youwantme to go?” he asks me softly.

“No—no! I just wanted you to know in case this memory gets taken from me.”

Please, magic, don’t take my memory of banging my smoking-hot werewolf crush.

Kane’s face relaxes, and he steps into my space. “I think I can handle a little amnesia,” he says.

Either this dude really wants my pussy, or he’s beingexceptionallyunderstanding. I mean, if a guy told me he’d have sex with me but might not remember it afterward…I just don’t know how big I’d be about it.

Kane’s hand cups my jaw, and suddenly, his lips are on mine. Just like that, my worry dissipates. I fall into the kiss, sliding my hands to his torso.

Another whisper of magic skims over my skin, like the stroke of a lover. It, more than the kiss, has my core throbbing. I arch into the phantom touch, wanting more.

Kane’s fingers move to my hair, and my own grip tightens on him. The more intense the kiss becomes, the more I get a niggling sense that something is…off. I just don’t know what. It’s something sensory—like the feel and smell of him isn’t right. I don’t know what to make of it, so I ignore it.

I slip my hands under his shirt, and ever-loving Goddess, I can feel each one of his abs.

Shifters.

He lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist, and the whole thing is hittingallmy buttons.

Kane moves us over to my bed before laying me out and draping himself over me. He buries his face into my neck, then pauses. There’s a rumble low in his throat.

“Why does your bed smell like raw meat?” he asks, running his lips and nose up and down my throat.

“My bed smells likeraw meat?” My voice has risen with my alarm.

“Mm-hmm,” he says as he kisses me.

Freaking Nero.

“Um, my familiar apparently has poor etiquette.”

Next time I see that panther, he is going tohearabout this.

Kane smiles against me, then nips the skin of my neck. I gasp, grinding my pelvis against him.

He releases my flesh—though I swear he’s reluctant to do so.

“It’s bringing out my predator,” he admits.

“Is that bad?” I ask, torn myself. While I find the idea of his animal side hot, his teeth on my neck have forced me to think about claiming bites, which is a hardnofor me.

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