Page 82 of Bewitched & Bewildered
Mine.
JUNIPER
His apartment is acceptable. It’s nicer than most single men I’ve visited, and while it’s only a fraction of the size of our family home, there’s something cozy about the little studio. I can appreciate it.
It was good enough for me to get naked in his bed. I’m still there, curled under the covers as he shuffles around the little kitchen.
I should go home. My sisters will worry about me if I don’t.
Me staying out all night is unheard of… but the sun sets before I know it, and I’m comfortable in his bed. He gives me a soft blanket to wrap around myself. I feel like I’m on a cloud. I’m unsure I can move, even though I know I should.
The view isn’t bad, either. The apartment is one room, making it too easy to watch him as he works. He stands with his back to me in the kitchen, and his muscles move as he slices something. Freckles are splattered across his warm skin, even in the middle of autumn.
How did I never notice the freckles?
I force myself to tear my gaze away when he joins me in bed. He sets a plate of snacks between us. Cut-up apples, a dipping container of caramel, a handful of pomegranate seeds, and chocolate. I’ve had worse post-sex offerings.
Pomegranates are sensual, and he knows it—especially for a witch who works with Persephone. A witch like me.
“Is this dark chocolate?” I pick up a square.
“Of course.” His eyes crinkle. “Only the best for you.”
I roll my eyes and pop the piece of chocolate into my mouth. It melts, and I do, too, leaning back into the abundance of pillows.
His eyes are still on me. They rake over my bare shoulders and move down to where my breasts disappear under the blanket. The way he watches me makes me feel like a goddess.
A thrill runs up my spine, and I force myself to ignore it. Whatever I feel for him must be over now. Tonightneedsto be enough.
“I doubt this is your best.” I turn my head away, fixated on the furniture in his room.
Notably, there’s an old rocking chair near the window. That’s safer to look at than how his cheeks dimple and how the freckles are painted across his strong nose.
“You’re right,” he says. “I can do a lot better. Stick around and see for yourself.”
I pick up a pomegranate seed and pop it into my mouth. It bursts, and I pluck up another one, working my way around my response.
My eyes move to his. “I’m going to leave once I can feel my legs.”
His smile turns into a frown, lines appearing between his brows. “Don’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Because”—he lifts a piece of chocolate to my mouth, leaning closer—“I want you to stay. Please, baby. Stay.”
Baby. My cheeks turn hot. I shouldn’t like Ozan calling me baby, but… gods, I do.
I accept the piece of chocolate, letting my lips brush against his fingers. “I shouldn’t.”
“You should.” He turns away and lifts a goblet from his bedside table. “I brought you a potion and everything.”
Right. To make sure I don’t get pregnant. I recognize the color and sheen. It’s a commonly known birth control potion used by witches and many others. Most witches keep some on hand.
I snort. “Don’t tell me you brewed it yourself.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then I’ll take it.” I take the goblet from him and peer into the sparkling blue liquid. It looks correctly made. I lift the goblet to my lips and drain it.
