Page 49 of Witchy Woman

I snuggle into his arms and let him clean me. It’s soothing, somehow, letting him take care of me in this way.

I spent my life post-Dad fighting for scraps of affection. Mom spent all her energy fighting with Hazel, so she basically ignored me. Grandma was around once a month and did her best, but once a month isn’t enough. Hazel was the one who gave me the most love, the most real safety.

But she was a child, and she wasn’t prepared to give anyone what she herself barely got.

I’ve never found the validation, the love, I needed. I tried with boyfriends, with sex, with friends. It was never right.

Not until Ash.

This man who fights and fights and never gives up no matter how much I push him away. This man who sees me better than anyone else can.

He sees the outside I’ve so perfectly crafted to attract the attention I want, but he also sees the inside. The person who is hurt and trying to figure out what the fuck she’s doing.

“I can’t lose you,” I whisper into the room, giving voice to the fear that has caused me to pull away from every single potentialconnection I’ve had. As desperately as I’ve craved love, I was so scared of losing it that I never let it grow.

His hands—which were lathering soap over my shoulders—still, turning me to face him. “Laura Hollis, I promise you won’t.”

“That’s not a promise you can make.”

He presses his forehead to mine. “I can’t predict the future, no. But I can tell you right now that I’m not leaving you.”

“I believe that,” I concede.

“Do you want to tell me what’s been going on in that beautiful head of yours? Or do you want me to make you cum again before we go to sleep and talk about it tomorrow?”

Despite everything, a soft giggle escapes me. “You’re a menace, Ash Cedar.”

“Your menace.”

Mine. For the first time, I think I like the idea.

Chapter 23

Show Me

Sunlight filters through my closed eyelids as awareness tickles at me, waking me from the most restful sleep I can ever remember having. Warmth at my back has me snuggling toward it, pressing into hard muscles and soft skin.

Ash.

Right. We had mind-blowing sex and then got in bed, went for round two, and promptly fell asleep.

I wait for the panic to hit me. For the urge to dive for my clothes and run to my car.

Instead, safety washes over me like a gentle wave. Ash’s arms are around me, holding me close and making me never want to leave.

Right now, I suppose I don’t have to.

My eyes flit over what I can see of his room. It can’t be too late, as the sunlight is still soft and hazy where it streams in from the window. The room itself isn’t overly decorated, but there are photos of Ash and an older man. I’d guess it’s his dad, if the resemblance is to be any indication.

They’re relaxed, arms slung around each other in front of a young forest with small trees. Probably something they worked on together using magic. Their smiles are easy, and I think Ishould feel jealous. But all I feel is a warm sort of happiness that Ash has such a good relationship with his father.

And then there’s the plant I set on fire. Sooty ash clinging to its branches.

I still can’t fucking believe I did that and didn’t even notice. Grandma would be oddly proud of me, I’m sure. I am, too.

“I can hear you thinking.” Ash’s morning voice is lower and rougher than usual and sends a sluice of heat down my spine.

“All good things,” I reply honestly, pressing back into a few more inches of hardness that have awakened with Ash.