Page 10 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“Viral, and it’s Tik—you know what, never mind. Who’s Enguerrand? A new beau?”

Florence narrowed her eyes in consideration, then opened her mouth. Whatever she was about to say was lost when Tripp stepped from the shadows.

Elara screamed.

These constant surprises were precisely why she was likely to have a heart attack in this blasted storeroom!

CHAPTER FOUR

Tripp Nightshade.

Here! In her storeroom! Okay, nothers, but she worked here, and that sort of made it her space, right?

And he showed up in the middle of an embarrassing conversation! Although, it hadn’t been thoroughly humiliating until Elara realized he’d been lurking in the shadows and probably heard everything.

With a box full of dildos staring her in the face!

OH, GOD! OH, GOD! OH, GOD!

Don’t speak, Elara! Don’t speak! Keep your trap shut, or who the hell knows what will come out?

His lips quirked as if he guessed her struggle, and her hard-won cool deserted her. But if she were honest, she’d neverevermaintained a hard-won cool in her entire life. Hell, she’d never even experienced one, much less maintained it.

Glancing at Florence, Elara experienced a moment of surprise. Her boss’s scowl wasn’t standard irritation and appeared as more of a worrisome frown.

What did she have to be concerned about?

Tripp?

In fairness, the power radiating off of him was intense. To a witch of Florence’s standing, his presence had to feel like a challenge, especially if she hadn’t known he was planning to pop in. Although Tripp frequentedNever Too Manyto pick up his weekly book order, he didn’t linger, and Florence rarely spoke to him other than a grudging “Thank you for buying local.”

“Uh…” What could Elara say? Ever since the moment he left her in her apartment, in a pool of delirious desire, her ability to speak had been severely hampered. Even on her best day, she wasn’t a grand conversationalist, but now? Yeah, well, she was snowed under by all her insecurities.

Seeming to ignore the vibe, he squatted down and fisted a hand in her hair.

“Go away, Flo,” he ordered.

He could’ve knocked Elara over with a heavy sigh when her boss left them alone.

Tilting her head back, Tripp stared moodily at her lips before muttering, “Aww, fuck it.”

His mouth covered hers, and it didn’t occur to her to object or take offense. Not when she wanted him to kiss her as badly as she did. Like last week, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and the earth quaked, but she figured it was her brain exploding inside her skull. Because never in her wildest dreams had she imagined he tasted so wonderful. Or that every delicious swirl of his tongue would bring the decadent flavors of espresso and dark chocolate brownies.

She moaned her pleasure, leaning into him. Before she could register the position shift, she was straddling him and gripping his head hard enough to snap it off his shoulders. The last part was made clear when he reached up and gently tugged her wrists. With a gasp, she rocked backward and stared into his smoldering eyes.

“Is this why every woman throws herself in your path? They’ve experienced this… this…” She gestured between their faces. “You know.This.”

His bemused expression transformed to amused, and he grinned.

“Elara, my dear flitter-mouse, what is it you believe I do all day long? Drag unsuspecting townsfolk into dark alleys and kiss them senseless?”

When he put it that way…

She scowled. “No! But I thought maybe afew,and that people liked to brag, so word spread.”

“There are rumors about me dragging people into alleyways?”

Narrowing her eyes, she flicked his ear. “You are purposely mocking me.”

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