Page 96 of How to Flirt with a Witch

My inner wrists are still striped with gray and orange—the ash and pollen symbolizing my rebirth. I don’t wash it off, staring at the lines, craving everything they represent.

Knock knock.

I freeze. In the mirror, my pupils dilate.

She’s here.

Somehow, my feet carry me to the door, even as my mind dissolves into a giddy haze.

But as I seize the door knob, panic closes around my chest, making my breath catch.

What if it’s not her? What if it’s Fiona telling me I missed a signature on those papers, or Sky coming to tell me something she forgot to mention about the book club, or—

I swing the door open.

Flames lick through me, searing hot.

Natalie stands there with her hands in her pockets, her hair cascading over her shoulder, her lips parted. Her dark gaze melts me until I’m ready to yield to her every need.

Chapter 23

How to Get a Witch Naked

Natalie closes the distancebetween us in two strides, her hands sliding around my waist with an urgency that steals my breath. Her mouth finds mine as she kicks the door shut, the sound reverberating in the silence.

I kiss her back hungrily, my fingers exploring the angles and curves of her body—her arms, her shoulders, her back, her breasts. My every sense is tingling, her body crackling beneath my palms.

“I was—worried you’d get sent on an assignment tonight,” I whisper into her mouth.

“You underestimate how high priority you are,” she murmurs.

I don’t know if it’s a bad thing to take her away from her work—and maybe this is part of the reason our relationship is forbidden—but I’m not about to argue.

Natalie’s fingers deftly trace the curve of my waist, making me shiver as she draws a path under my shirt. This time, she doesn’t stop. She runs her hands up and over my bra, palming my breasts before tugging myblouse upward. In one swift motion, she pulls it over my head and tosses it aside.

A purr rumbles deep inside her as her gaze flicks up and down my body. “Gorgeous…”

She dips her head, her lips finding the sensitive hollow of my collar bone.

A shockwave travels through me, making me moan as she leaves a trail of kisses over my clavicle and down my arm. I thread my fingers through her hair, the soft strands and rough little braids adding to the pleasure coursing through me.

She doesn’t stop until she reaches my hand, pressing my palm against her lips. She lingers, holding my gaze, the gesture so intimate that it awakens butterflies inside me.

“Can I take you to bed?” she murmurs into my palm.

I dip my chin. “You can do anything you want.”

I’ve been wanting this for too long to give any other response, evident by the molten heat pooling inside me.

Our mouths crash into each other again, all restraint vanishing as she walks me backward. Stumbling toward the bed, I part her lips with my tongue and deepen the kiss, needing to show her how much I want her—how much she’s been missing out on because she was too stubborn to let this happen sooner.

She pushes me, and I land on the mattress, leaning back on my hands.

My breaths quicken as I take in the wild look in her eyes, her full, parted lips, and her tousled hair. She grabs the hem of her shirt and tugs it upward—and the smallest whimper escapes me.

I finally get to see the contours that were teasing my fingers a moment ago. I drink in her strong shoulders, sculpted abs, and the cleavage peeking out of her black sports bra, sitting up so I can run myhands over her bare skin.

Before I can touch her, she’s on me, pushing me back down. With one hand in the small of my back, she lifts me and positions me beneath her. Her hair forms a curtain around our faces, her arms on either side of my head as she hangs suspended over me.