Page 24 of Hooked on a Demon (Leeside Witches #3)

Declan

H ades, save me. Why does she have to smell so good?

Declan’s index finger swirls figure-eights on the small patch of exposed skin on her hip. She’s so soft under his rough hands. Her pale complexion contrasts with the dark ink of the tattoos that run down his forearm and onto his hand, making him itch to see his hand splayed across her naked flesh.

As he gazes down at her curled-up form, her head on his lap, and her breathing deeper as she sleeps, he feels a pull in his chest. It’s a new sensation for him and one he’s not quite willing to explore yet, but he knows there’s something different about her.

Well, he’s known that since she walked into his shop.

Since he began to question if he was ready to settle down.

But whatever this is between them, even so early and new, he doesn’t want it to end. Not anytime soon, anyway.

The credits roll, signaling the end of the second film, and he honestly has no idea what happened, having been too wrapped up in thoughts of Eliana and how he would love to have her head in his lap for other reasons. Imagining how her mouth feels around his currently hard cock.

The engine on the truck next to them roars to life, startling Declan and waking Eliana.

She jolts up, pushing her mussed-up hair away from her face, looking around, momentarily confused.

“Oh goddess, I fell asleep. On our date. I’m so sorry.

I’m the worst date ever,” she fires off, frantically searching for her boots.

Even in the dim light, he can see a flush of embarrassment rush up her neck. His hand lands on her thigh, and he squeezes gently. “Oaks. It’s okay; kind of sweet actually.”

She eyes him skeptically. “Falling asleep on you during a date is sweet?”

“Yeah. You felt comfortable enough to fully relax. I think that’s a good thing.” His hand slides up her thigh, then rests on her lower back, not ready to stop touching her yet.

“You’re only saying that so I don’t feel bad about ruining our date.”

“You didn’t ruin a thing. Even your little snores were adorable,” he says, lightly teasing her.

She leans forward, burying her face in her hands. Her body heats with what he assumes is mortification as she grumbles through her hands, the sound muffled, “Fucking Hades. I snored?”

“A little,” he says, taking note of how she’s started to pick up the supernatural turn of phrases. It’s cute that she’s been around him enough that those little things have worked their way into her vernacular.

“End me now. Please. Better yet, I can walk home.” She sits up, puts her hand on the door handle, and makes to open it.

His hand lunges forward, gripping her wrist. Her head spins, eyes casting down to his hand and then up to his eyes.

When she speaks, all hint of emotion is gone.

“Please, let me go.” Her voice is cold. Distant.

He releases her wrist as if she’s scorched him. He knows he’s fucked up, but he doesn’t understand how. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Or hurt you. I… I just don’t want you to leave.”

She leans back in the seat. Her arms crossed over her chest. “It’s okay,” she says flatly. “Can you take me home now?”

Hurt settles in his bones as he starts the engine. “Yeah. Not a problem,” he says, resisting the urge to try and fix this. To make right whatever he did to upset her.

The ride back to her apartment is silent. Awkward. Unsettled. He parks in front of her building, and as he turns to her to apologize again, she opens the door. As she gets out, she says, “Thanks for the date. Sorry again that I fell asleep.”

“Eliana, can we talk about whatever happened back there?”

She closes the door and stands next to it, her face in the open window. “We can. We will.”

“Okay. What—” he begins to ask before she cuts him off, “Not tonight.”

She turns and walks into the lobby of her building, leaving him confused and worried that he has ruined everything with her before it can truly begin.

* * *

Declan doesn’t sleep. Tossing and turning in bed, the complete change in her demeanor upon grabbing her wrist has him torn up inside. He needs to talk to her. To figure out why it upset her so much, so that he can make sure he never does it again.

He’s had his fun, sleeping with different women.

And he’s definitely one to admit that he has lived up to the playboy moniker, but he’s always prided himself on being a respectable playboy.

Well, to the extent that a playboy who sneaks out before their partner wakes up can be.

He would never do anything to hurt a woman intentionally, and the way Eliana reacted at the drive-in makes him think that someone has hurt her in the past.

Wisps of smoke billow out of him at the mere thought of some other person harming her.

Someone causing her pain. He closes his eyes, resting one arm across his them while the other reaches out toward the fluffy weight at his side and begins stroking Buckley’s ear.

The softness of his fur, the weight of his head as he moves it and plops it sleepily on top of Declan’s thigh, and the resigned huff Buckley gives off in the process helps to ease the flare of anger inside Declan’s body.

He senses the smoke that rapidly fired out of him begin to recede, and after a moment, it has completely dissipated.

Leaving one hand on Buckley’s head as he continues to pet the beast absent-mindedly, his other arm flops to his side. His eyes open, and as he stares into the darkness, he knows he won’t be sleeping at all tonight.

Deciding to text her, as it’s too late to call, he picks up his phone from the nightstand and single-handedly types.

Declan

Hey Oaks.

I know you’re likely sleeping, and I know you said we’d talk about what happened later, but I wanted to say I’m sorry again. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, and I can see how upset you were. I would never intentionally do something to hurt you or cause you harm.

I’m sorry. I don’t want this to be the end of us.

Hitting send on the final message, he stares at the screen, re-reading what he said, hoping she can see that he means it and that he wants to give this another try.

As he stares at the screen, three precious dots appear.

Then disappear.

And reappear.

When he’s all but given up that a message will actually come through, it does. It’s not big. Or elaborate. But it’s enough to let him know it’s not the end.

Eliana

Thank you. I’m sorry, too.

I’ll see you tomorrow at the theater