Page 51 of Witchy Woman

“Please,” I whimper. I’m not sure exactly what it is I need, but I know I need it. “Please, Ash.”

“I’ll tell you once, I’ll tell you a million times. I’ve got you, Laura Hollis,” he says, emerald eyes peering into my soul. His thumb slips and slides against my clit, the slick between us making his calluses glide like silk. “And I’m yours.”

Fireworks spark behind my eyes as my orgasm slams into me with the force of a thousand fiery suns exploding at the same time. It drags me under, his own orgasm heightening mine and threatening to make me lose consciousness.

Slowly, the intensity ebbs until I’m left with his weight pressing on me, and free hands to wind around his shoulders.

“Can we spend every morning like this?” he asks, lifting his head to show me his goofy smile.

Fondness melts any lingering defenses until I’m grinning just as goofily. “Pretty sure it would be too much for you. You’re not getting any younger.”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

I suck in a breath. “That old, huh?”

He shrugs, bracketing my head with his forearms. God, they’re so fucking thick. “You like it.”

“Women across history have ignored much worse things than age for good dick.”

“So you admit I have good dick?”

I level him with a heavy stare. “As much as I truly don’t believe your ego needs feeding, it would be ridiculous to try and lie about how good that was.”

“My woman is so goddamn romantic.”

I boop him on the nose. “And don’t you forget it.”

He laughs—loud and boisterous and free. The sound makes me yearn for that level of levity and lightness. Makes me want to fix things with Hazel and be better.

Ash Cedar is going to make me a better person. How utterly horrid.

“Shower with me and I’ll drop you off at the market,” he says, pushing himself onto his knees.

I sigh heavily. “I can’t just stay in bed all day?”

“Goldilocks, I’ll keep you in bed for the rest of your days if you want me to.”

Part of me does want to lock myself away in Ash’s lumberjack tree house kingdom. But I can’t.

Giving Hazel some space after last night was smart, but abandoning Grandma’s booth at the market isn’t.

“Shower and market,” I reluctantly agree, sitting up.

He stands, offering me his hand. “You’re not alone anymore. Whatever it is you don’t want to face, you won’t do it by yourself.”

I launch myself into his arms, burying my face in his chest.

I’m not alone anymore.

Chapter 24

The Armchair is Horrid

It’s hell not having Ash at my side, but Hazel, Grandma, and I don’t need an audience. We need to have this conversation alone.

The house welcomes me with a creaking hello. I like to think it missed me, but just because it’s slightly sentient doesn’t mean it has emotions.

Right?