Page 22 of Charmed, I’m Sure (Witches of Bellevue #1)

“We have… There is…” Blowing out a sharp breath, Magnolia pressed her hands against my pecs and gave me a gentle shove. “There. Maybe now my brain can form words.”

“Come again?” I asked, chuckling.

“You’re basically a… a… walking sex stick, and you smell like a man-candle. It makes my brain go all liquidy, and I can’t do the words into sentence putting.”

My mouth opened and closed, brows knitting together as I struggled to wrap my brain around the words that just came out of her mouth.

I wasn’t sure how, and I was pretty sure that Ms. Bourgeois—my old high school English teacher—would have had a stroke hearing that sentence, but somehow it made sense.

I took a few steps back until I collided with the counter that filled the center of the kitchen. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” She exhaled all the air from her lungs as she propped herself up on the countertop, leaning back on her hands. “So.”

“So.”

“Slower.”

“As you said. Care to elaborate on that, sunshine?”

“There’s obviously something…” She gestured between us, and I watched her throat bob as she swallowed, her eyes locked onto mine. “Between us.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I’m not really into the whole…” Her gaze traveled down my body, her breathing slightly labored as her lip disappeared between her teeth, and a flush blossomed on her cheeks.

“The whole what, Magnolia?” It took every ounce of self-control I had to remain on my side of the kitchen. There was no denying the attraction between us, especially when the hunger in her eyes matched the fire raging inside me.

“Friends with benefits,” she squeaked out, her cheeks deepening in color.

“It’s a good thing that’s not what I want then, isn’t it?”

“You don’t?”

Expelling a heavy sigh, I shook my head and brought my gaze back to hers. “Permission to approach?”

“What is this, a courtroom?” she asked, a flicker of that fire I was used to igniting in her tone, melting away the meekness from moments before.

“No, but you asked for space so your brain could do the ‘words into sentence putting,’ so I wanted to make sure it was alright first.” When she nodded slightly, I slowly closed the distance between us.

Her legs parted, giving me room to step between them, and I rested my hands just above her knees.

“I told you, Mags. I want to get to know you. I know we started off kind of strong, but if you want to slow it down, then that’s what we’ll do. We just need to set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules,” she echoed, nodding. “Like what?”

“Texting?”

“Obviously.”

“Phone calls?”

“That’s a given.”

“Telling people?”

“Telling who? And what?” she asked, a quirked brow lifting.

“Family and friends, and that we’re seeing each other.”

Her nose scrunched, head tilting to the side. “Not yet?”

“Okay, but may I ask why?”

“I don’t want everyone staring at me any more than they already do. You’re still the town golden boy, even after all those years away. And I’m still… well, me.”

I didn’t agree, but I understood her perspective.

She’d spent her life enduring sneers from townsfolk because someone started a rumor years ago that she and her family were witches.

It was part of why Kyle had tormented her in school, still finding twisted joy in it.

Ridiculous, but it was Magnolia’s reality.

If it were up to me, I’d shout it from the rooftops.

I wanted to walk around town with her on my arm, do mundane things like grocery shopping, cook her dinner, or share a bucket of popcorn at the movies.

But she had her limits, and I didn’t want to push those boundaries—not yet, anyway.

She wanted to go slow, so just call me a tortoise—at least he won in the end.

I nodded sagely and released a steady breath. “Fair enough. But that brings me to my next question. How are we going to go on dates if you don’t want the town knowing about us?”

“Convenient run-ins?” she suggested, grimacing.

“Mags.”

“I don’t know, Taylor. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Date?”

“No, I know how to do that. It’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure the premise hasn’t changed. Can’t we just, I don’t know, figure it out as we go?”

A stone sank in my stomach as I nodded, and silence settled between us. But then her hands found my hips, gently pulling me closer as she stared up at me.

“Kissing?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes flicking back and forth between mine.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” I brought one hand to her waist, the other cupping her cheek as I held her gaze—and my breath—because if she said no, I was pretty sure I would shrivel up and die on the spot.

“Definitely.”

“Just not in front of anyone.” Her chin dropped, her eyes falling to my chest before I coaxed her gaze back up to mine. “I’m not big on PDA, anyway.”

And then I kissed her.

It started off soft and slow, but when a contented little moan vibrated against my lips, fire surged through my veins. Slipping my hand around to the back of her head, I tangled my fingers in her hair, tilting her head back to devour her.

Her hands fisted into my shirt, pulling me closer as she wrapped her legs around my hips.

Banding an arm around her back, I slid her to the edge of the counter until her center pressed against me.

She gasped against my lips, then slowly began to rock her hips along the hardened ridge of my cock, and I nearly came from just that.

With a disgruntled groan, I released her hair, grabbed her hips to still her movements, and rested my forehead against hers. “Mags, baby, are you trying to kill me?”

Our labored breathing mingled in the space between us for a moment before she gently separated us. “No. Sorry. I told you… liquid brain.”

“The feeling is mutual. Trust me.”

Her gaze raked down my body to the tent pitched in my joggers. “I can see that.”

“Magnolia,” I ground out, “if you keep looking at me like that, this whole ‘taking it slow’ thing is going to be a lot harder than it should be.”

“Pun intended?” she asked, a devilish smirk curling her lips.

“I think you lied. I think you are trying to kill me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with a light chuckle, then cleared her throat and fixed me with a determined gaze. “Let’s start over.”

When I quirked a brow, she made a shooing motion with her hand until I backed up enough for her to hop off the counter.

“Magnolia Bellevue.” She held out her hand, a sweet smile stretching across her face as her eyes met mine.

Chuckling, I shook my head as I took her hand. “Taylor Hallows.”

“Charmed.” She gave our hands a gentle shake, her smile widening as she inclined her head slightly.

The scoff that escaped me was involuntary, but the smile that followed was entirely for the woman in front of me.

Eyes locked onto her aqua and gold irises, I ran my thumb across her knuckles and gently pulled her toward me.

Wrapping my opposite arm around her waist, I watched her eyes widen as I tilted her back. “I’m sure.”

And then I kissed her to the sound of the wind whipping against the building, rain hammering on the roof, and the soft jingle of her damn cat’s bell as he sauntered across the shop.