Page 66 of Hexed Up

“You’re bewitched into loving me. You’re only being nice to me, you only want to be nice to me, and erm, do nice things to me, because you think you’re in love with me. I feel like I’m taking advantage.” He snorts. “You’re under the influence of the potion. It’s making you feel things you wouldn’t usually feel.”

“Molly, you’re right.” Disappointment spins in my belly, even though he’s being reasonable. “There are feelings I’m experiencing for you that I wouldn’t ordinarily feel for you. However, there are other more … lustful and dirty emotions I’dbe feeling no matter what. I’m in bed with a beautiful woman – a beautiful woman whose pussy I got to eat out last night. A beautiful woman who magically orgasmed because of me. Trust me, I’d be feeling certain feelings potion or no potion. Especially certain anatomical parts of me.”

I can’t help it. I rub my thighs together.

Am I a bad person?

I brew love potions and sell them illegally on the web. Yes, I am a bad person. If I was Prim, I’d be ending this right now. I’d never have started it.

I spin around so we’re face to face. It’s morning and he should smell less than desirable – especially his breath; I bet mine smells as bad as last night’s fox poo. Instead, he smells delicious as always. This man is just too much.

“I’m really flattered,” I say, wincing when his face seems to fall momentarily, “but I think we should slow down. I got totally carried away yesterday.”

“Probably drunk on victory,” he says, with a little smile that doesn’t quite reach those blue eyes of his.

“Probably.” I swallow. “Are you mad at me?” I whisper.

“Mad? Why would I be mad at you, Molly?”

“For being a massive cock-tease. For leading you on and then …”

“Molly, you’re allowed to change your mind about things. You’re allowed to say stop or no or slow down any time you want. I’d be a right asshole if I got mad about that.”

I nod. He’s right, he would be and it makes me realise just how assholey these other men I’ve been dating have been.

“Thank you for being so … lovely and considerate.”

“You’re welcome,” he says and for a moment we just stare at each other and the experience is so dazzling and overwhelming and intense I feel like I might really be under a spell of my own.

Then the door flies open, we hear a scurrying of paws and the next thing we know McGruff has launched himself into the bed with us and is drowning me in a flurry of face-licks.

Honestly, this dog is taking his chaperoning responsibilities far too seriously!

I fail unsuccessfully to wrestle McGruff away from my face until eventually Horatio grabs him by the collar and hauls him off me. To my surprise, my dog, who has never taken a liking to any male companion I’ve brought home before, does not growl at Horatio’s attempt to separate us. Instead, he diverts his love attack and slobbering tongue onto Horatio instead.

“Oh man!” Horatio squeals as the dog stands on his chest and slurps at his face. “That is so disgusting.”

“At least he doesn’t smell anymore,” I say, taking the opportunity to slip out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Horatio says in alarm. “Aren’t you going to save me?”

“Nope. He likes you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“We just had that conversation about consent,” he says as I stoop down to pick up my wash bag and my outfit for the day.

“Yes, of course, you’re completely right. McGruff, get off Mr Ho– I mean Horatio.”

McGruff, for once, listens to me, pausing his attack and peering at me over his shoulder. I’m actually quite impressed that he’s even considering being obedient, but it lasts two seconds before he’s licking at Horatio’s face again.

“I’m sorry, I tried,” I say. “Maybe you shouldn’t use face cream.”

“I don’t use face cream.”

“Oh please. No one can have skin as smooth as yours and not use face cream.”

Then I disappear inside the bathroom.

When I re-emerge twenty minutes later in a pair of shorts, T-shirt, and trainers, my hair dragged up from the back of my neck into a ponytail, I stop dead in my tracks. Horatio is standing in the middle of our gigantic room, the fluffy robe tied back around his body. McGruff is sitting to attention, smart and pretty by his feet, peering up at Horatio’s face.