Page 7 of Taming the Wicked Wolf

A harsh breath escapes my lungs, and I can feel my cock twitch at her words.

Of course I have a praise kink.

FOUR

Emilia

Maybe I overreactedby summoning Silas.

It figures when I finally take the step to protect myself, Chase is suddenly on his best behavior. No random calls from unknown numbers, no presents on my doorstep, and no surprise visits from his buddies at the sheriff’s office.

Until now, I have felt like I have been standing on this precipice or hanging by a thread, and waiting for it to snap. He knows everything about me, that’s what happens when you’re with someone for nearly ten years.

I can’t help but feel like one of these days the other shoe will drop, and he will play the last card in his hand and threaten to out me as a witch. Something I cannot easily run from.

Without the support of a coven, it would be the same as him painting a target on my back. A solo practitioner is easily expendable, since there’s no threat to the collective.

Silas wouldn’t let that happen though, would he?

For the past week he’s been crashing on my couch, because “Demons aren’t genies, they don’t get put back in a bottle and seton a shelf.” At least he isn’t terrible as far as roommates go. He doesn’t eat much and when he does, he makes enough for both of us. I’ve come home from work to late night waffles two nights in a row.

Poppy loves him too, the little traitor. I thought animals were supposed to be afraid of demons, but I guess I was wrong.

“Table five is watching mukbangs on his phone.” Carly Beth whispers as she passes, setting the tray on the bar.

I glance in his general direction, “He’s cute.” Pretty blue collar, with messy golden blond hair.

“I should give him my number.”

Carly Beth is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. She’s 24 and way more optimistic than I was at her age. She’s 5’10 and built like a runway model. Hazel eyes, deep auburn hair, with two bleached blonde streaks in the front to frame her face.

Sometimes I wonder why she befriended me, the divorced bartender with ex-husband drama, and not one of the other waitresses, but her friendship has been a lifeline in this tiny town. I only got the job because I tended bar back in Indiana to get a head start on paying off my student loans before Chase and I got married.

Mitchell’s Sports Bar is the hottest spot in Moonstone Ridge, since it’s the only place that stays open until 2 am most nights. All in all, it’s a pretty nice job.

The dark wood bar stretches across the length of the building with bottles of liquor lining the mirrored wall behind me. There’s plenty of seating and two pool tables, along with a small stage for live music and karaoke on the third Thursday of every month. Not to mention the dozen TVs constantly running replays of every sport you could imagine.

There’s also the added bonus that kitchen staff makes us French fries most nights we work together.

“I don’t know.” I turn to her, “Remember what happened last time with that one guy who was watching book reviews?”

“Oh.” She sighs, “It was a nice three months, though.”

“Sure, but it has to be some sort of setup to lure women in. He’s at a bar at 10:30 at night watching people eat food on his phone. There’s a couple eating onion rings less than ten feet away.”

“You’re probably right.”

Carly Beth leans against the bar, eyeing me.

“What about you? You looked like you were off in your own little world just now.”

I move around her and tend to the customer at the end of the bar, pouring him two pints of the only imported beer we have on tap.

“There’s a lot on my mind.”

She hands me a ticket, “Is it Chase again?”

“When is it not Chase?” I grab the three beers from the fridge, wrapping them in a paper napkin and opening them before setting them on her tray. “No, I just have someone staying with me right now.”

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