Page 79 of Bewitched By the Djinn
I don’t have the rest of my days with Bennet, but I have today. I have right now.
My heart picks up at the thought.
He clears his throat. “Kevin asked me if I was your boyfriend.”
“He did?”
“Yes. He mentioned you had a boyfriend before, but he said he was really cringe and had zero aura.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” I squeeze his fingers. “I left school, moved back home, when our parents disappeared. He tried to be there for me, but he couldn’t handle it. He made excuses over and over, gradually disappearing until he just wasn’t there. I haven’t even attempted to date anyone since.”
“Truly?” His voice is incredulous.
I scoot closer to him. “Truly.”
“I’ve never courted anyone, ever.” His thumb rubs the back of my hand.
“Even those ladies at the balls?” I tease.
He shifts a little in my direction. “We only danced and had mindless, generic conversation. Hardly dating as you do it in the mortal realm, half naked and broadcasting to the world on a magic mirror.”
I laugh. “Not all dating is like onLove Island.You never lie with any of them like this? In the dark, in the same bed, only inches apart?”
His breath stutters. “No.” The word is low, rough. Honest.
“Did you kiss any of them?” I whisper.
He swallows. “Um. I may have engaged in a little kissing with one or two of them.”
“Really?”
“It meant nothing.”
I move so close our lips almost touch, heat building between us. “No portal opened? That’s fortunate.”
He chuckles, breath fanning over my mouth. “Is it? I quite enjoyed what happened after the portal opened.”
“Me too.” I lean back, wishing his expression was clearer in the dim light. “Whenever I’ve lifted my mental shields—like in the basement, in the swamp—all your emotions are just there. Waiting. Do you... have your mind locked up?”
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.
“No,” he says finally, and the word is barely audible.
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to be able to feel me,” he says, voice hoarse. “Always.”
My heart stutters. The air between us crackles, charged and heavy.
“You do?” Why is that such a turn-on?
I trace a finger up his bare arm, trailing along the muscle. Goose bumps rise under my touch. His skin is warm, alive, trembling. He’s holding himself back, restraint hardening the line of his body, in the way his breath hitches with every inch my fingers explore.
“I mean, if you want. If you need anything, since you have your shields engaged, it doesn’t matter if—ah, Cassie—” My name comes out on a groan, like he’s breaking apart.
