Page 65 of Hungry As Her Python

“Thanks, sweet Witch,” Conrad grinned at his reflection.

I dressed him in jeans and a black t-shirt, both fresh and pressed. His skin was clean and healthy, and his hair shiny.

Even his boots gleamed like they’d just been polished.

“You look scrumptious,” he said, then stole a quick, warm kiss before scooping me over his shoulder like I was nothing more than a bag of flour.

I squealed, but secretly?

Yeah, I liked it.

By the time we pulled up at the bakery in his pickup truck, the firetruck and the Sheriff’s cruiser were already there.

Jaxson was questioning Petyr like he was a suspect on Law & Order: Supernatural Unit.

Gryn and Ivan were hovering nearby, their little magical auras bristling.

I barely noticed Conrad holding the door for me until he murmured, “Bella?”

Before I could answer, I was mobbed.

“Thank the Goddess you’re alright!” Donny and Evie chorused, tackling me in a two-pronged bestie hug.

“Yes, I’m fine!” I squeaked, muffled in Witch boobage. “What are you two even doing here?”

Evie pulled back with a guilty grin. “Well, I almost didn’t come. I heard dumpster fire and thought maybe it was a metaphor for your love life.”

“Ha ha,” I said flatly, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

Donny raised a brow and glanced at Conrad, then back at me.

“Judging by the way your hair’s mussed and your lipstick’s MIA, I’d say it’s not a total disaster.”

“Shut. Up.” I hissed.

But yeah, maybe they weren’t wrong.

Chapter Nineteen-Conrad

Last night was the best night of my life to date, hands down.

Sleeping curled around my sweet Bella? It was heaven on earth.

But all that post-coital bliss and my plans for waking her up with my head between her warm, think thighs faded the second I heard that phone ring.

My sexy little Witch slid off my body, trying to be stealthy, but I was so attuned to her I was alert and ready before she even noticed.

I tried not to let rage and anger take over, but when I saw the smoke curling over the bakery roof?

Something primal in me snapped.

Not the calm, calculated awareness of a predator. No.

This was the mate part of me—the beast in my blood—rising up, ready to burn down the whole damn world if it meant keeping Bella safe.

“Oh, oh no,” she murmured softly.

And the second I saw her—pink Crocs, hair mussed, eyes wide with worry—my Python uncoiled inside me, pushing for control.