Page 63 of Hexes and Exes

“I’m the worst. But at least I’m honest about it.” I slide a hand down her stomach, my mouth trailing a path of kisses down her neck. Goosebumps break out over her skin, and she sucks in a breath when I drag a finger between her folds.

“Romance is overrated.” Ava sighs as I circle her clit with slow movements.

“Are you sure you don’t want poetry and flowers? Someone to write you a song or stand outside your window blasting a song from a boombox.”

“That only works in the movies. In real life, it’s just annoying for everybody.” Ava pants, her hips shifting against my hand and grinding on my dick.

She spins around and straddles my thighs, her hands wrapping around my shoulders. I lower my face and press a kiss to one breast and then the next.

“You brought me food. Nothing is sexier than that.” Ava slides her hand down my stomach, moving down until she’s wrapping her fingers around my shaft. I throw my head back with a groan.

“I got you takeout. Even I’ll admit that is the weakest form of effort possible.”

“It was exactly what I was craving,” Ava says breathlessly as she lines me up and sinks her body down onto mine.

Nothing has ever felt as good as being buried deep inside her does. Ava’s mouth is parted, her eyes half closed. I slide my hand over her breast, plucking at her nipples before sliding my hands down her sides to her waist and around to grab her ass. I move her body so she rocks against me.

We kiss and take our time exploring each other's bodies. Until I can’t remember where I end and she begins.

28

AVA

We are not a quiet group. Our boots crunch over frozen snow as we hike through the oldest cemetery in Mystic Hollows. Between me, Ambrose, and Stellan, we keep up a steady chatter about some inane nonsense. It helps distract from the cold.

“Why do we always have to do shit in the middle of the night?” I grumble and then squeal when I slip on an icy patch. Bram catches my arm and steadies me before I face plant into one of the tombstones.

It’s nearly two in the morning. With the windchill I would estimate the temperature to be somewhere close to negative ten, and it’s dark as fuck out. I don’t care if we have flashlights. There's barely a sliver of moon in the sky. Even that inkling of light is basically blocked out by towering evergreen trees dotted around the cemetery.

According to Piper, the planets are perfectly aligned tonight, and the spell needs to be performed as close to the new moon as possible.

“Piper, if you turn me into a zombie because you aren’t exactly following directions, I’m going to hunt you down and eat you.” Ambrose says.

“You mean eat her brains.” Odie signs.

“That’s not what I said.” Ambrose grins. Piper makes a distressed sound, and everyone else groans. Roman shoves him and he skids across the icy snow with a chuckle.

The graveyard we’re stomping around in isn’t the only one in Mystic Hollows, but it is the oldest. It’s located on the edge of the Grimwood. Ironically, there are two different coven graveyards, but the founders were buried together in this cemetery.

I’m wearing a coat that goes down to my ankles, my warmest hat, and I have a scarf wrapped around all of my face except for my eyes. There is, thankfully, only a few inches of snow on the ground, but many of the grave markers are flat, which means they’re impossible to see. I don’t even want to think about the fact that I’m stepping all over dead bodies right now because we’ve gone off the plowed path in search of Dickface Ashenvale’s grave.

Fine, that’s not his name. Piper discovered that the man’s name is David. I expected him to be a Mephestophlies or something more nefarious sounding, but I guess it goes to show, assholes are just regular Toms, Dicks, and Harrys.

“From my research, the Ashenvale family has a mausoleum.” Piper informs the group as we weave through headstones.

Of course they do. They were rich bastards. The kind of well off that even in death flouted their wealth over other people.

“At least we don’t have to clear off a thousand graves to try to find his name,” Josephine says with a shiver, her teeth chattering.

“Could we have picked a colder night?” My brother flips up the hood of his coat and pulls the strings tight until I don’t know how he can see.

“I’m sorry,” Piper murmurs. “According to the books, this is the best time for us to successfully complete the spell. We’d have to wait another six months to have an opportunity as good as this.”

“Ignore all these whiners, Piper.” Ambrose hooks his arm through hers. “They just like the sound of their own voices.”

“Well, it’s fucking cold out,” Bram grumbles.

“Welcome to the upper peninsula,” Ambrose says with a game show host voice.

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