Page 4 of Bewitched (Hexes and Fangs: Holiday Editions #1)
S he exhales the smoke that fed her lungs. Irritated, turns around, her braid swatting into my chest, and walks into her shop. "Asshole!"
I laugh and sling the backpack over my shoulder, trailing her inside, my starved eyes stare at her tiny body shifting under my hoodie.
The wood creaks beneath me. Sweet wafts of sugar and icing mingle, chasing away my smoke. The floor and windows showcase carved pumpkins, some of them already burnt. I close the door and the little witch appears before me, holding out a silver knife. The very weapon once, or twice... killed me.
"Sit!" Her voice is irate, steel ready at my chest.
"Should I switch the sign to ‘Closed’ since we’re getting busy?"
"I am going to stab you!" She glides the blade’s tip against my sternum. Meanwhile, her other hand probes, hunting for the faint echo of my heartbeat. She’s so fucking sexy. Fuck. I’ll need the entire pack of cigarettes to calm down. Damn it! "Sit!"
"Fine. Let’s play." I obey to her request and sit on the chair she now points her sharp blade at.
"Take out the box!" She folds her hands under her breasts, drawing my gaze like a fucking magnet. My eyes land on the lace stockings, tenderly hugging her thighs.
"Please?" I sink into the chair.
She emits an irate sound and rushes to me, prepared to seize the bag. I drop it to the floor, nestled between my legs. She comes to a stop in front of me, and I grip her waist, hauling her onto my lap. She moves quickly, pressing the blade to my throat.
"Let go of me!"
"Now, little nightshade, what would you like to know?"
She sways her hips against me attempting to break free from my hold.
"Do you want to welcome an additional player to the game?"
"What do you mean? Let me go!"
"If you continue that, you’ll be greeted by someone." I look down at her legs on either side of my frame. Her gaze drifts at our connection and I release her waist. In a heartbeat, she stands tall.
"Oh for the Moon’s sake!" She inclines towards me, the blade stabbing into the flesh of my chin.
"Bending won’t help either." My smile gets under her skin.
"You know what? I’ve heard that torture helps a lot in situations like this.
" Her knee applies pressure on my bulge.
"Now, handsome, pick up that damn bag and take out the box.
And my skirt!" As she presses her knee into me and the blade against my neck, I sense my blood streaming, tracing the lines of my neck.
"How exciting! I had no idea vampires can bleed. Are you ready to spill some for me today?"
"Will you make candy from it? I’d adore to see one resting between your lips."
Her hand inches forward, the knife’s tip slicing a precise line in the tissue. The sound of tearing skin resounds between us. I take in her smile—violent and vulgar. Just the way I like it.
She comes to a stop. Her skin fades to a ghostly hue; hands fall to her sides. The blade clatters to the floor, echoing a chilling last word.
"What’s wrong?" I support her jaw in my palms as I stand.
"Someone is here."