Page 4 of The Book Reader
Iclimb into my bed and roll my eyes. I hear my roommate, Mekhi, next door. I sigh heavily before I yell back at him, “Yes, I’ve locked my door, and would youpleasestop calling me Hitch.”
I try to sound annoyed, but I can’t help the smile that crosses my lips. Mekhi has been calling me that since I set him up with Matt from next door. Two years ago
Mekhi is my best friend, my ride or die. He has more shoes than I do, an excellent eye for hot men, and loves shopping.
He is also so much more than that. Mekhi was with me through some of the hardest parts of my life. When I felt all alone in this world. He was there.
I look over at my alarm clock, then get into bed and pull the thick covers over me. I really hope that when I wake in the morning, I have clean feet and Mekhi is making me breakfast, instead of me having to scrub the carpet to get the mud out of it. Again.
Mekhi has told me that, at two in the morning every night for the last month, I get up and go for a walk. Last time he found mein a field a few streets down, lying in the mud and crying. The time before that, he saw me by the lake, naked and telling him that I couldn’t ‘find her’—I have no idea whoheris, but I wish the sleepwalking would stop.
“Well, I’m not fetching your ass this time. What’s her face over the road almost called the damn police the other night. The wrinkle case thought I’d drugged you,” Mekhi shouts through the wall.
I laugh out loud at that. Mrs. Jenkins came over the next day saying that young women don’t have to put up with controlling men and that I shouldn’t be afraid. I’d just nodded at her, trying not to laugh. I love my best bud; luckily, he is only controlling when we shop. Most of the time, he’s like a kitten—a hot gay kitten.
“And Hitch? I call you that for a reason. After Matt, you’ve got me one date every week for a year, with some fine ass men and I loves—” he bangs on the wall, and I jump. “—loves you for that.” I hear the title song for “Dog the Bounty Hunter” and then Mekhi groaning, “Oh man, he can catch ‘em.”
Rolling my eyes, I call out, “You made me get you those dates, so I don’t think that counts.”
I hear him chuckle, and I can just picture him in there, lying on his bed with his tiger print sweats on, a face mask, and his chocolate skin covered in cocoa butter. If there is one thing I’ve learned about Mekhi, it’s that with him, beauty comes first. His skincare routine alone takes more time than I’m willing to put in.
The sound of glass clinking makes me grin, and I know he’s drinking the sweet green drink he has named a ‘Tini’—another thing he says is part of his beauty plan.
Glancing over at the clock again, I pull in a slow breath. It’s almost midnight, and I need to sleep. I must be up early for a job interview tomorrow.
Reaching over, I pick up the little bell Mekhi brought me—it seems I’m able to pick locks while I’m sleepwalking. With the bell on my wrist, Mekhi thinks he will hear me and be able to stop me. Maybe he will, but I have my doubts—that boy sleeps like the dead.
I place the bell over my hand and shout, “I have the bell on,” shaking my wrist hard, the bell jingling loudly so he can hear. I understand why Mekhi worries so much. The world we live in—where daemons, witches, shifters, and other magical beings live among us—it’s dangerous. Some humans embrace the supernaturals. Different people, like Mekhi, avoid them at all costs. The supernaturals like to blend in with humans, and for the most part we’ve accepted them into our world. There are places for them to go, like bars, shops, and restaurants, which cater to their needs. Most of them are peaceful. But when they do attack, it’s bloody, and people usually die.
I’m a low-level witch, or Wiccan, which is the term my Aunt May prefers. I have powers, but nothing to scream home about. I can cast a few spells to move things, but my gifts lie mainly with healing, though.
A few years back, I moved from my childhood home in Sweetville. It’s a tiny village that is mainly filled with witches. My aunt still lives there. She is the head of a coven and enjoys the calm and peacefulness it offers her. I needed something more exciting in my life, something that didn’t remind me of the bad that comes with all the supernatural stuff. So, I moved to Darkville. It’s a town slightly bigger and not dull.
Reaching for the light, I catch my reflection in my bedside mirror, and my heart gives a little painful beat.
I look a lot like her. My Mother.
I have her caramel skin and jet black spiral curly hair; my eyes are amber, also like hers. But my father gave me his big lips and large smile—I’m a perfect mix of them both.
They are another painful reason why I left Sweetville.
I turn from the mirror and flick my light off, snuggling down deeper into bed. I close my eyes, willing myself into unconsciousness, until I feelhim. He is calling to me, and just like most nights, I drift off to sleep to find my dream man.
The sun iswarm on my face, making me smile as I roll over. I thought I was on a beach, but all I can feel is soft silk under me; the room filled with the smell of lemon and something rich, dark, and so tempting. Closing my eyes I let the scent wrap around me, enjoying how it calms my body and makes me feel so alive. I wiggle, trying to get comfortable, then freeze when a growl rumbles against my neck, making my breath catch.
“Did I wake you, baby?” His voice is husky. I feel him chuckle before he lifts his head up and looks down at me with bright, glowing blue eyes. “I was hoping to wake you with my tongue, my lips, my…”
His words drift off as he lowers and kisses down my neck. I find my body heating, my pussy squeezing tightly as I let out a whimper.
“My hands…” He continues, his lips trail lower to the top of my breast, his touches hitting all the places that make my body feel like it’s coming alive with fireworks. I lift my hands, wanting to feel this powerful man as he moves to cover my body with his. The power I feel emanating from him moves into me, making me feel strong and wanted. My fingers toy with the muscles of his back, the ridges telling me he works out. He isdangerous to those who threaten him and the ones he loves. But to me, he shows nothing but care and softness.
My back arches when he pulls my hard nipple into his warm mouth; the sucking and biting almost tips me over the edge. He pulls back with a wicked grin and whispers, “Rose, aren’t you forgetting something?” He lowers again and nibbles down my body. I want to wonder what his words mean, but those thoughts are taken from me the moment I feel his warm breath fanning over my hips.
My hands move down the bed, gripping the sheets, needing more of his lips on me. I arch up then freeze, sitting up fast, almost knocking him off my body. “Wait… I… must go…” I hesitate. I want him to ask me to stay, to tell me I don’t need to go. But as he lifts his head to grin at me, I know he that I must do this. This time, Iwillfind her.
He moves up the bed and kisses me deeply, making me gasp and wrap my arms around him tightly. We both pull away, our chests heaving, “I don’t want to leave you.” I say breathlessly.
He kisses me again then moves his lips over my cheek to whisper in my ear, “I don’t want you to either, my Rose… but find her; find her so I can find you.”
