Page 26 of Hexed, Vexed, & Undersexed
I know that I’m playing with fire, but fuck the network.
If they want me to flirt with Bodie, then I’m going to need a little something to get my engine revved.
His gaze heats and, while he hesitated briefly, Preston finally closes the distance between us. Soft and warm lips capture mine in a toe-curling kiss. It lasts for only a moment, but when he pulls away, I’m just about to melt into a puddle.
One little peck and I'm head over broomsticks infatuated—how sad.
"Mmm, I think I can make this horrible plan work with that bit of motivation," I whisper, smirking at his jealous frown. "Don't worry, you're not the only one who doesn't want this to happen."
"I know. I just don't know how well it'll go with me standing off to the side watching the two of you flirt."
"Why? You're not the one having to actually do it," I counter, walking to toss the box with my gram-gram's present onto the vanity of the dressing room. I had taken it off as soon as I left hair and makeup. Don’t get me wrong—I love it—but until I know what magic it holds, I don’t want to wear it. Preston seems to realize what I’m about to do and stays my hand. Taking the box from me, he removes the necklace and settles it at the base of my throat. As his breath washes over the back of my neck, goosebumps raise in the wake of the warm puff of air.
"Because. . ." he murmurs, trailing off, focusing on clipping the clasp. As soon as it’s situated, calloused fingertips trail over the curve of my neck and emerald eyes find mine in the mirror attached to the vanity. "You're not going to be fighting a very intense urge to storm onto the set and kiss the loving hell out of you in front of everyone."
My heart skips a beat, my body humming at his admission.
"IsmyPreston a bit territorial?" I tease with a grin. He doesn't answer, but I know it’s true based on the intensity that’s almost glowing in his eyes. "Good. And don't worry—Bodie-boy is not even close on my radar."
Binx growls, seemingly at my words, glaring hard at Preston.
"Looks like you're not the only territorial one," I note with a chuckle. "Think you can handle my possessive pussy?"
Preston bursts out laughing but nods nonetheless.
Ha, score one for desperate bitch—I mean witch . . .
Or do I?
"Let's head on out, a brief introduction and the beginning of the episode should start filming soon."
Taking a deep breath, I follow him out of the dressing room. As we walk back to the main stage, I focus on the mantra that randomly popped into my head that morning.
Trick or treat.
Smell defeat.
Becausethisbad witch cannot be beat.
Yeah, I'm mature like that.
"You got this, Nora," Preston whispers encouragingly, his fingers brushing over my lower back as I head onto the stage.
Hell yeah, I got this.
Now. . . to just ignore the bright lights and intense camera setups that are pointing at me.
Easy peasy, hexin' squeezy, right?
A few stage employees direct various contestants around to their designated spot to stand at, the six of us forming a semi-circle facing the host of the show—who’s currently getting powder dusted over his face.
Here I thought that just happened in movies.
Well, I guess itisTV.
"All right, here's the plan. We're going to get individual shots of each contestant for your introduction screen. You don't need to say anything or do anything but if you want to strike a pose or wave, what have you, you can. You'll have three to five seconds. Ready? We'll start from one end and move down the line," some woman from the network announces.
We all stand silently, waiting for our turn. Thankfully, I’m closer to the middle and have a bit of time to figure out what I want to do.
