Page 53 of The Hocus Pocus Handbook

“Incredible.”

“You’re not dizzy or light-headed?”

If I said yes, it would be for different reasons. I want her with a physical ache, and I can’t find the words. I don’t dare look directly at her. Not now.

“Kerboros?”

Oh no. She said my name.

“I’m well.” Even to my own ears, I sound hoarse, my voice thick with the yearning I fight to swallow. The longer I spend with her, the more difficult it becomes.

“Your face is red.” She sounds…amused?

I risk a look at her then, and her eyes are lambent, glowing in the half-light. “We’re in the bath. It’s warm. Very warm.”

“Pity. I thought maybe it’s because we’re so close and we’re both naked.”

The sound I made before tries to emerge, and I disguise it as a cough. I have no expertise in carnal matters, no finesse. For ages, my reputation and my bad attitude have driven people away, kept them safe. But now there’s Thea, her face too close to mine.

“It’s cruel to tease,” I murmur.

I’m unraveling, just like my hair, now swirling around us in the water. I feel the echo of her hands on my scalp, brushing the tender skin on the nape of my neck in an exquisite torment, here and then gone, and I feel like I might spontaneously combust or boil the water around us.

“Who’s teasing? I want to kiss you.” There. She’s said it plainly. “I wanted to earlier.”

And I can’t take any more. I can’t, I can’t.

I can’t.

With a groan, I cup her face in one hand and set my lips to hers, hungry and clumsy and needing her like I’ve allowed myself to need no one ever. She responds instantly, wrapping her arms about me. Her mouth is silk and heat, her tongue endlessly curious. We tangle and hold and kiss, pressing again and again, lips and bodies, until I lose my mind, my breath.

She makes a gorgeous sound right into my mouth, and I give it back, unable to pull away or protect myself. I don’t care if she loses control, if she drinks me dry. For her, I would happily shrivel to flower petals and be carried off on the wind. I shape the curves of her back, her shoulder, her hip with my other hand, and then I tug gently on her hair.

Her head falls back, exposing her throat, and I press worshipful kisses against the warm, wet skin. She squirms and moans, her breath coming in great gulps. Her whole body is quivering now, and just as she’s about to crawl on top of me, I hear voices.

I wrench away, feeling the loss of her touch like the thrust of a diamond-sharp blade. When the bathhouse door opens, we’re on opposite sides. I fumble for a sponge, willing my body to settle down. I put soap on it and scrub my arm, unable to speak as Zeph and Rosa join us for their own ablutions.

“How’s the water?” Zeph asks.

“Hot,” Thea replies.

If the situation wasn’t so ridiculous and inappropriate and utterly unlike me, I would laugh. “But not unbearably so.”

She smiles at me, a secret look, and if it’s possible, I get even harder. “Really? I’m about to melt over here.”

Rosa tests the water, seeming not to sense the undercurrents. “I’m with Kerboros. That’s tepid at best. Ah well, it’ll have to do.”

Our travel companions disrobe, rinse off, and slip into the bath. Soon, their presence neutralizes my physical alacrity. Zeph stretches and starts scrubbing; as they do so, they say, “Apparently, they have two rooms free. How do we want to divide them?”

“I’m not sharing with her,” Rosa says immediately, pointing at Thea. “Gender sorting is asinine—we’re basically strangers.”

Zeph nods. “That’s fair. And you’re always welcome with me.”

Rosa eyes us both as if she fears we’ll attempt to take up space in Zeph’s quarters by force.

Though I don’t display my jubilation, there are fireworks going off within me. “Acceptable.”

“You don’t mind sharing with me?” Thea is teasing me. The mischief in her voice nearly makes me pull her into my arms again. “Are you sure?”