Page 4 of Boss Witch

“I’ve noticed that. The American weakness for the accent, that is. Back home, I’d be decidedly average, but over here, I seem to set hearts aflutter.”

She grinned. “Glad to hear you’ve kept your modesty, at least.”

“Are you accusing me of being vain? You bet I think this song is about me.”

Clem laughed, a surprise since “You’re So Vain” wasnotplaying. He was impressed she even knew the song. His mum had been a Carly Simon fan back in the day, which was the main reason he’d made the joke, fully expecting it wouldn’t land. Gavin savored the delight as he registered genuine amusement in the curve of her lush mouth.

She appeared to make up her mind suddenly. “You’ve got that heroic vibe, and I’m up for some fun with a guy who doesn’t stand me up. So do you want to see where that goes?”

Suddenly, Gavin was fully present in the moment, no longer using the conversation with Clementine to cover scoping out the bar. She was gorgeous, with a foxy face, glittering dark eyes, a full mouth, smooth skin, and chestnut hair cut in a short, casual style that made him wonder how it would look once he’d kissed her and run his fingers through it a few times. Her body was sleek, like a sports car that elicited admiring looks, enough that a maddening number of men would’ve taken a crack at her if Gavin hadn’t put a stop to that nonsense.

“Unless that means something quite different here, you’re asking…” He let the sentence trail off because, despite his grungy exterior, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words.

While he wasn’t untouched, his experience didn’t match the biker persona either. Most often, he blew into town, did his job, and got out. The nomadic lifestyle didn’t leave room for attachments or even many hookups, though there had been a few. Gavin waited to see what Clementine would say.

“If you’re DTF,” she finished.

Down to fuck.

“Right now?”

He hadn’t been contemplating it until she put the offer on the table. Then it wasallhe could think about. Probably it was a terrible idea since she’d seemed upset over being stood up. Revenge sex might sound like a brilliant idea tonight, and in the morning, she’d be a sack full of regrets. He’d rather not leave her feeling worse.

Her lazy smile roused an answering spark dredged from some primal part of him that didn’t give a shit that somebody had stood her up tonight, about the witch hunter order, or his family’s honor. Clementine traced the rim of her drink then lifted her finger to her mouth. He might not be practiced, but he recognized certain signals when they were obvious.

Then she said, “Maybe not. We’re in the middle of the bar, and we’d get arrested if you lifted my skirt and had me against the counter.”

Utterly without warning, her tease had him hard as a rock. Because he could visualize it perfectly, only in his white-­hot lightning strike of a mental image, he ripped her knickers clean off and fucked her from behind, her hands spread on the bar top, moaning each time he sank his cock into her. The flash of attraction exploded so quick and hot that the aftermath left him slightly dizzy and disoriented, like they really had fucked.

Somehow, he got a hold of his end of the conversation. “I’d rather not be detained, and I’m not an exhibitionist either.”

“Neither am I, so I suppose that’s out. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m…interested,” he said at last, feeling the pull of attraction as if it were a fishing hook caught in his cheek, tugging him inexorably toward her.

Gavin set his hand on the counter, wondering if she’d mirror his movement. After a brief delay, she did, flattening her palm next to his.Why does not touching her hand, just seeing hers next to mine, feel so fucking sexy?Already he could imagine what her skin felt like, how soft and smooth it would be. He even wanted to look at the whorls on her fingertips, minutely scrutinizing the patterns. Chemistry had never hit him like a cosh upside the head, his body rioting to get closer to her.

“That’s direct,” she said, knocking back the last of her drink. “Then let me make you an offer. While you’re in town, I’ll be your local guide. Let’s see where that leads.”

“You drive a hard bargain. If I agree, where would you take me first?”

Clementine grinned. “Is this a test?”

“It might be.”

“I’ve never been graded on my ability to come up with a fun date on the fly, but I’ll have you know that I’m competitive by nature.”

“You’re stalling,” Gavin said.

She pulled up a glossy site on her phone, but Gavin couldn’t see the details from this angle. “Bluestar Farm is waiting for you. Admission to fun! Open daily, weather permitting. We can have a picnic, walk the grounds, see the animals. They have Jersey cows, Belgian draft horses, Shropshire sheep, and Nigerian dwarf goats!”

“Are you quite serious?” he asked.

Ridiculous, how charming he found this suggestion.Did she seriously suggest a farm tour for a date?Certainly, they were in the middle of America, with the closest major city an hour away, but she had the most delightful twinkle in her eyes, as if she grasped that he was reluctantly delighted with the way she’d leaned into these regional charms.

“As a heart attack. We can roast marshmallows in the firepit after it gets dark, and if you play your cards right, I might even take you to a 1930s-­style barn dance.”

“Must I bring my own coveralls, or will they be provided for me?”

---