Page 42 of Charmed, I’m Sure (Witches of Bellevue #1)

Shit, the cinnamon rolls!

Taylor

I hated mornings. Probably more than most people. But I despised them even more when I woke up panicking on my day off, my brain conveniently forgetting that detail. Not that I could blame it—working every weekend for the past month and a half would do that.

Groaning, I tossed my phone back onto the makeshift nightstand—a random box that still needed to be unpacked—and flopped onto the bed, crossing my fingers that my frantic movements hadn’t woken Magnolia.

Last night had exceeded every expectation I’d dared to hope for, surpassing the dreams that had sustained me these past few months.

It had taken her a bit to open up about what she needed, but once she had, watching her repeatedly unravel beneath my hands was a memory I’d carry for the rest of my life.

Smiling, I rolled to my side and reached for her. My fingers, expecting soft, warm skin, brushed cool emptiness instead.

Sitting up, I grabbed my glasses from the box beside the bed and looked around.

Her side of the bed was untouched—the covers pulled back neatly, the pillows propped against the headboard.

The bathroom was dark and empty, and the bedroom door was closed.

If it weren’t for her clothes still scattered across the floor, I might have thought she’d slipped out without saying goodbye.

Which raised an interesting question—was she walking around the house naked?

Dragging myself out of bed, I pulled on sweatpants and headed for the door. The sweet scent of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee hit me as soon as I opened it. I let out an appreciative sigh. I could get used to this—waking up to coffee and baked goods.

The smell lured me through the house. Sunlight poured into the living room, bathing the space in buttery light and highlighting the sea of packed boxes. I hesitated, half a step toward the nearest box, the urge to organize tugging at me.

Then music drifted from the kitchen, along with Magnolia’s soft singing, cutting through the stillness.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I approached the kitchen and leaned casually—at least, I hoped it looked casual—against the doorway. Not that it mattered. Her back was to me.

Magnolia was a vision—and a tease—as she danced around in my button-up from last night.

The sleeves were rolled to her elbows, the hem brushing her thighs.

Her hair was piled haphazardly on her head, swaying slightly as she sang along to Love Drunk.

When she lifted her arms and swayed them above her head in time with the music, I lost any hope of keeping my cool.

The hem of my shirt inched higher, teasing me with a glimpse of skin just below her ass, and it took every ounce of self-control to stay put.

I stood there, watching, as an absurd sense of pride swelled in my chest. She moved around the kitchen like it was hers, not mine. My cheeks ached from smiling, but I couldn’t help it. She had me utterly captivated.

I was just about to make my presence known when she flicked her hand toward the sink. My words caught in my throat as water gushed from the faucet, and soap spilled into the basin. Then, with another wave of her hand, steam rose from a mug as a spoon inside it began to stir itself.

What the actual fuck?

Blinking, I rubbed my eyes, sure I was hallucinating from exhaustion. But then, with yet another flourish of her fingers, the music skipped to a new song mid-chorus.

My pulse thundered in my ears as my thoughts—slow as dial-up internet—latched onto one, unavoidable conclusion. Those rumors weren’t just rumors. Magnolia really was a witch.

How many times had she used magic around me without my noticing? Was she a good witch? Were bad witches even a thing? How many witches lived in town? Was it hereditary?

A thousand thoughts spiraled through my mind, but there was one that played on repeat.

“She’s really a witch.”

Shit. Did I just say that out loud?

Magnolia spun around, her wide eyes locking onto mine as her hands flew to her mouth. Everything stopped—the water, the spoon, even the air in the room.

“Taylor, I… I can explain,” she stammered. Tears welled in her eyes, and even from across the room, I could see her chest rising and falling in unsteady breaths. She looked terrified.

“Mags—” I started, stepping toward her.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted, backing away. “I never wanted you to find out like this.”

When she hit the island behind her, I quickened my steps.

“Taylor, I’m so sorry. I—”

“Shhh. Mags, baby, it’s okay.”

Her tears spilled over as she crumbled. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her close. Relief washed over me when she didn’t pull away.

Sure, it was shocking to learn witches weren’t just a fairytale. And yeah, dating one was… different. But she was still Magnolia.

My Magnolia.

The biggest highlight was that she wasn’t green like that one from the play my mom and sister loved so much.

Or was that just the Wizard of Oz?

Damn it, focus, Taylor.

Holding her tightly, I stroked soothing lines down her back until her breathing steadied. Then, lifting her by the waist, I set her gently on the counter and tilted her face up to mine, swiping away her tears with my thumb.

“Magnolia,” I murmured, “I need you to hear me. Are you a witch?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Cool. I don’t care.”

Her teary eyes widened in shock.

“I mean, I care a little that you didn’t tell me,” I admitted, pressing my forehead to hers. “But I understand why you didn’t.”

“Taylor—”

“Nope. You’re listening right now.”

Her lips snapped shut, and I suppressed a laugh.

“Mags, I told you I wanted to know everything about you. That includes this. You’re awe-inspiring, beautiful, brilliant, and one hell of a baker. None of that changes just because I know you’ve got a little magic.”

“It’s more than a little,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Oh, good. We’ve moved on to humble bragging. That’s a positive sign.”

Magnolia let out a small chuckle, wiping her cheeks. “Just setting expectations, cowboy. But seriously, if you don’t want to—”

“Mags, don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

“I’m being serious. Being with me before you knew was going to be hard enough, but now that you know what I am—what my aunt and sisters are—it adds another level of difficulty.”

Placing my hands on the counter beside her thighs, I leaned in until our noses nearly touched.

“Sunshine, what I said last night hasn’t changed.

I’m in this. For all the ups, downs, and mystical.

” I punctuated the word with a dramatic wiggle of my fingers, earning a smile that hit me square in the chest. “Should I prove it to you?”

She raised a skeptical brow as I took a half-step back, sliding my hands down her thighs to her knees.

“Taylor, what are you doing?”

“Proving it.” With a gentle tug, I brought her to the edge of the counter and nudged her legs apart. A flash of pink lace caught my attention, and my pulse quickened. “Where did those come from?” I asked, running my thumb over the delicate fabric in slow, teasing circles.

Her voice hitched as she replied, “My purse. I… ran out to the car and grabbed it this morning.”

I stilled, my thumb pressed against her. “You keep panties in your purse?”

Her sharp, blue eyes met mine. “You never know when you’ll need fresh undies, Dr. Hallows.”

“That mouth is going to get you in trouble, cher.” Resuming the gentle strokes she loved, I reveled in the soft moan that escaped her lips.

“Maybe I like trouble.”

“I know you do.”

Without waiting for a response, I dropped to my knees and ran my tongue over the lace, savoring the taste of her even through the thin fabric. Her sharp intake of breath spurred me on as I slid her panties aside and pressed a finger into her slick heat.

Her head fell back, and she groaned my name.

I paused, glancing up at her flushed face. “You wouldn’t happen to have more stashed in your purse, would you?”

“What? No, why?” she panted, her eyes hazy with need.

“Pity.” Hooking my finger into the lace, I grinned.

“Taylor,” she warned, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare.”

“They have to come off, cher.”

“Then take them off!”

I was rendered stupid as I watched her pull my button-up higher on her body.

I’d seen her completely bare before me not even twelve hours ago, and somehow, seeing her skin kissed by the late morning glow was so much better.

It wrapped around her in a halo of golden light, accentuating every line and curve of her body that she exposed.

The sharp dip of her waist. The flare of her hips.

The delicate line of her nose, and the full fan of her lashes when she turned her head just so…

“Are you going to help me?” she asked as she wriggled on the counter, trying to shimmy her panties off without getting down.

“I don’t know, cher. I’m kind of enjoying the view.” I waggled my brows, and she cocked hers in response Smirking, I replaced her hands on the waistband. “Lean back and lift your hips for me.”

She did as I asked, and I slipped the garment down her legs, stuffing it into my pocket with a satisfied grin.

“I’m going to need those back,” she said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” I shrugged, spreading her legs wider and settling between them. “But until then”—I patted my pocket—“these are mine.”

Whatever retort she’d planned evaporated into a gasp as my mouth found her again, my tongue working in tandem with my fingers. Her thighs quivered around me, and her sweet cries filled the kitchen as I brought her closer to the edge.

Sliding one hand under her shirt, I cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers. Her breathing turned shallow, her body trembling. She was a sight to behold, her body glistening beneath the recessed lighting and the golden rays of sunshine through the windows.

“Taylor—” she panted as my cock throbbed in my pants. “I’m going to… I’m gonna—” The sound of the oven timer blared through the kitchen, jarring us both. “Shit! The cinnamon rolls!” Magnolia exclaimed, wriggling in my hold.

“Don’t you fucking dare, sunshine,” I growled, my grip shifting down to her hips, anchoring her in place.

“But they’ll burn.”

“So don’t let them.” Doubling my efforts, I added a third finger and sucked hard on her clit.

Magnolia whined, nervous eyes flicking from me to the oven across the kitchen where the buzzer was still sounding. “Son of a bitch.”

With a frantic wave of her hand, the timer ceased, and the oven door dropped open with a clang.

“We good?” I asked before dragging my tongue lazily up her center, smirking as she pinched her eyes closed and whimpered.

“Those better not burn, cowboy. No amount of—motherfuckingdammit.” With one swirl of my tongue against her clit and a curl of my fingers inside her, her tirade over the baked goods fell away, and we were back to where we’d been before the interruption.

If I were someone who believed in the universe having some divine plan, I’d think it didn’t like the idea of us being together with as many times as we’d been interrupted.

But I wasn’t, and the universe could, disrespectfully, fuck itself.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was letting her go now that I’d had a taste.

She moaned my name, her muscles clenching around my fingers as her release tore through her.

When her body stilled and her breathing evened, I pressed a final kiss to her inner thigh and stood, sliding my arms around her to hold her close.

“I don’t think even your cinnamon rolls can top that breakfast,” I teased, laughter bubbling up as her wide-eyed, incredulous expression morphed into a playful glare.

“Oh, you—” With a flick of her hand, she swiped a dollop of frosting from the counter and smeared it on my nose, giggling when I sputtered in mock outrage.

“Where did that come from?” I demanded, trying not to smile as she slipped the offending finger into her mouth.

“Magic,” she said with a shrug, then licked the tip of my nose.

“Why you little…” Hoping there was still some icing on my nose, I sandwiched her head between my hands and ran my nose along her cheek. My chest warmed with the sound of her unabashed laugher and squeals of joy as she wiggled in my grasp trying to escape.

“Taylor, stop!” she said between giggles. “I need to get the cinnamon rolls!”

Reluctantly, I let her go, watching as she hopped off the counter and hurried to the oven. The golden rays of sunlight streaming through the windows wrapped around her, highlighting every curve and line of her body. She was mesmerizing.

Substantial breakfast first, she’d said.

But the way her sea glass eyes sparkled with promise made one thing clear—breakfast wasn’t the only thing on the menu today.