Page 83 of Witchy Woman

But I can’t find it in myself to change my mind.

“I’m going to leave early in the morning to spend the day prepping with Grandma and Hazel. You can come by around dinner time.”

“Thank you, Laura.”

Don’t thank me yet. Not until you find out how much of a liar I am.

I wet my lips, biting just a smidge at the bottom one in the way I know makes Ash’s mind blank.

I don’t want to talk anymore.

Lying to him feels like black sludge in my gut. I hate it. And I’m done with it tonight.

His thumb brushes my lip, pulling it out from my teeth. “How about we do something else with this mouth of yours?”

Bingo.

I nibble the tip of his thumb, wrapping my lips around the digit for a quick suck. “Whatever could you have in mind?”

“When it comes to you?” His eyes are dark as he leans closer, until our lips are a breath apart. “Everything.”

His mouth is hard against mine as his last shred of control snaps, and he kisses me with all the love in the world. Ash is intense in everything. The way he works, the way he talks, the way he loves, the way he fucks.

It’s almost too much, having all that intense energy focused entirely on me, but the attention-starved part of my brain revels in it. Revels in the way he never makes me doubt I’m the center of his entire world.

He breaks the kiss, sliding his nose against mine before falling to his knees to take my boots and socks off. He’s slow—reverent—as he exposes my skin to the warmth of his gaze.

Hands slide up my leggings, calluses catching on the fabric every so often in their lazy pursuit. No matter how many times we’ve done this, he acts as if he’s discovering me for the first time. As if he’s always in awe of me.

“Can’t believe I haven’t fucked you on this countertop yet.” He skips pulling my leggings down in favor of yanking my thick sweater up over my head. “Been dreaming about it for weeks.”

This may be the only surface left untouched.

I slide my fingers to the buttons on his flannel, undoing them quickly. “Sounds like we should remedy that.”

His chest, broad and strong with a smattering of dark hair, comes into view and I almost bury myself in it. I’ve always liked bigger guys, but this barrel chest is the best one I’ve ever seen. Defined, but still rugged in a way that makes me want him to chase me through a forest.

“See something you like?” he chuckles, throwing my bra across the room, where it hits the wall with a satisfying smack.

My fingernails dig into his pecs, leaving little crescent moons. “Yeah.”

“Hey.” His eyes soften as he lifts my gaze with his finger and thumb holding my chin. “I want you to know something.”

“Mm?”

“I love you, Laura Hollis. I’m pretty sure I loved you the first second I saw you, and I’m going to love you until my last breath. I don’t expect—or need—you to say anything, especially if you aren’t ready. But I want you to know that with absolutely no doubt.”

The words stick in my throat like peanut butter. I know I love Ash. Even when he pissed me off, I knew it. But there’s something holding me back, something keeping the admission from leaving my lips.

“You’re mine,” I say instead. “And I’m yours.”

“You’re goddamn right.”

I lean in, reconnecting our mouths and halting the conversation. No more words are necessary.

With a little hop of my hips, my leggings and panties are on the ground and Ash’s fingers are sliding through the wetness between my thighs. It’s almost obscene the way his fingers slip.

The way this man affects me is unparalleled.