Page 51 of Boss Witch

“That’s fine. Is there a downstairs lavatory?”

She grinned and kissed his nose. “You’re so cute. Five bucks to call it a ‘loo.’”

“How dare you, madam. I cannot be bought. For that price.”

Clem laughed and then pointed. “Over there. Also we have a bathroom right up the stairs if the other one’s occupied.”

“Ooh, you trust me, do you? I could have some nefarious scheme to sneak upstairs and prowl through your underthings.”

Rising on her toes, she whispered, “You already do that when I’m wearing them.”

Quick as that, he was hard, straining against his denims and imagining a fast fuck, someplace close and secret. He’d love to find out what knickers she was wearing and, more importantly, whether she was wet beneath them.

Stay focused.

He grazed a kiss across her temple and turned. The downstairs loowasoccupied, and it rather sounded like the redhead who had dragged the bewildered blond man in here a while ago might be devouring him alive. From his enthusiastic yelling, it didn’t appear as if he minded. Gavin didn’t knock; they’d likely be a while.

Casually he sauntered upstairs and overheard what sounded like another couple getting lucky. Based on his observations downstairs, it must be the cousin and her boyfriend. With great resolve, he resisted the urge to spy on Clem, not for any official reasons but out of sheer bloody curiosity. What would her room even look like?

I’ll find out when she shows me.

Gavin headed into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Likely he didn’t have long because someone would guzzle too much beer and need the room, so he closed his eyes and focused, extending his senses as he’d been taught. And—­

There was a flicker.

Not strong enough for him to accuse anyone, but faint and definite. It could be a fading trace from someone who had visited, possibly the same witch who’d been in the bakery.Dammit. I still can’t entirely rule it out.He’d wanted to find an inert space that offered no sparks at all, and this was worse somehow. The whole house was vaguely suffused in a way he couldn’t explain. But it was old energy, only trace amounts.

Maybe the witch lived here before Clem moved in?

Swearing beneath his breath, he used the toilet while he was up there because it never hurt to cover one’s tracks. As he stepped out, he found one of Titus’s friends waiting for a turn. Dante, he thought the man’s name was.

He wouldn’t win any points acting like an arse, so he greeted the man politely. “Gavin Rhys. I don’t think we met earlier.”

“Dante. You mind?” The bloke gestured at the lavatory.

“Sorry, not at all. I’ll clear out.” His mood was considerably more somber when he went downstairs to rejoin the party.

While he was upstairs, they’d shoved the sofa and chairs out of the way and pulled up the rug, revealing lovely hardwood floors. Clem was pleading with people to take off their shoes so as not to mar the finish.Why do I find her nagging so delightful?Possibly it was because he understood, on some level, that the requests came from a place of deep concern. She wanted things to be just so, and it frustrated her when she fell short of perfection.

Soon, Dante came back down, and he went for the retiring type, it seemed, because he started smooth talking the quiet woman Clem had introduced as Margie and didn’t rest until he got her to dance with him. The oldest lady at the party had a wild streak and gods above, could she drink. Gavin decided he didn’t give a damn about the elusive witch he was starting to think might be a figment of his imagination.

He headed straight for Clem. She’d moved on once everyone kicked off their shoes, dancing in their socks like some fifties film, and now she was in the kitchen, stacking dishes into the dishwasher. From what he’d seen, she hadn’t relaxed for a second tonight, laser focused on everyone else’s good time.

While her cousin gets lucky upstairs.That didn’t sit right with him, not even slightly.

“Come here,” he said huskily.

He picked her up and perched her on the kitchen island, framing her hips in his hands. Now they were on eye level, and he could see how fretful she was, how unable to relax. Gently, like she might bite him, he set his hands on her shoulders and kneaded away the tension. At first she mumbled a few protests, and he sensed the moment when her intent to resist melted. She tipped her face up and closed her eyes, soft and warm beneath his hands.

The kiss, it was inevitable. He didn’t give a damn who was watching or what they thought. This moment belonged to the two of them, and when he touched his mouth to hers, even the music faded away. She tasted sharply of lemon from whatever she’d been drinking, and he kissed her until her tongue went from tart to sweet, slipping into his mouth again and again. He pulled her to him, lost in her heat. She wrapped her arms around him, her legs too, until they were a tangled fusion of need.

Eventually, one of Titus’s lads barged into the kitchen looking for mini corn dogs and dashed back out again, practically falling over his feet in embarrassment. “He thought we’re about to finish what we started, here in the kitchen,” Gavin said.

Clem shook her head. “Not a fan. I only forgot my aversion to having my ass on the kitchen counter while you were kissing me and now—­”

“It’s fresh in your mind again?”

“Got that right. Dance?” she suggested.

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