Michele Hauf - An American Witch In Paris

Tuesday nodded her consent.

Ethan reached over and pressed two fingers to the sigil. It was an intimate touch and her skin warmed. Her breasts hugged his knuckles. He flicked his wondrous gaze onto hers.

“I can feel your fear,” he said. “I don’t want you to be afraid. I will protect you.”

Tuesday wrapped her fingers about his wrist, holding him there at her breast. “There’s nothing a vampire can do to protect me that I can’t already do myself. You’re going to have to make a better plea for my continuing to work with you than that.”

“All right. How about this?”

And with that, he slid over the salt map, smearing the left bank of Paris, and cupped the back of her head as he pulled her in for another sudden kiss.

His mouth warmed against hers and demanded she not ignore him. That she allow him to protect her. And at the same time, it teased her to submit in a way she generally didn’t care to with a man. It was the surprise of their connection, their easy manner of locking lips, that excited her, and made her want to not break it.

On her knees, Tuesday scooched closer. He slipped one hand down her hair and clasped his fingers into it, easing her forward, into his arms. Into his interesting acceptance. She’d thought he didn’t like witches. So why was he kissing her?

Did it matter? Not in this moment. She wanted to taste every sensual, hot bit of him. Inhale his cool, fresh-air scent, and every breath that he greedily gave and took from her. Moaning into his mouth, she grabbed at his shirt and straddled his legs with hers. They kneeled there on the scattered remains of the city map, a strange fusion of opposites who couldn’t resist the pull to experience one another.

And when he put his hand again on the sigil, she moved his fingers to cup her breast. She hugged up against him, giving him permission to touch her, wanting to own the vampire’s desire... To control him as he sought to control her.

Ethan broke the kiss and pulled his hand abruptly from her skin. “Uh...”

Appearing befuddled, he probably wasn’t sure why he’d kissed her. And had manhandled her boob. So she wouldn’t let him consider it too long. Because if she had to use normal skills instead of magic to control him, it was best to keep him unsure and wondering.

“Feel like a walk in the park?” she asked.

“Sure. I um...”

She stood and knotted the ties of her shirt into a bow. “Then let’s get to it before I shove you down and have some hex with you.”

She’d let him ponder the use of that word for what she really wanted to do to him. The man had ignited something within her. And she had never been a witch to deny herself the pleasures life offered.

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