Witch Is The New Black (Paris, Texas Romance #3)

This was harder than it sounded. The more she tried to express her feelings, the less the words she spoke made any kind of sense. “I already told you, I don’t want to walk on them anymore.”


“Right. I got that part. I just don’t know how it relates to me…us…me calling you my favorite witch.”

She waved her hand in the direction of the table. “This.”

Now Ridge scratched his head. “You mean you feel like you’re walking on eggshells when we study?”

“Yes!”

“Aw, that’s totally unfair. I’ve tried really hard to make you as comfortable as possible, Bernie. I’ve been a complete gentleman the entire time.”

Winner-winner-chicken-dinner. Thank God he’d said it, because she clearly wasn’t getting it right. “That’s the crux of the problem.”

“This is the most convoluted conversation I’ve ever had. In fact, it’s a lot like your math. How is my being a gentleman a problem?”

“It interferes with my eggshells. Maybe I don’t want you to be a gentleman. Did you ever consider that?” She winced. None of this was going the way it had in her head.

“You mean with all the rules you have, like calling me Mr. Donovan? Color me crazy but I figured your boundaries were set in stone.”

“Maybe you figured wrong,” she blurted out.

“Meaning?”

And then it all came tumbling out. “Meaning, you’ve kissed me on three occasions now, and not one single follow-up. You flirt, you joke, you tease, you save me from Violet like I need a hero. You devote all this time to helping me learn the art of the craft. Yet, I’ve left here every single night since we began studying un—un-debauched!”

Un-debauched, Bernie? Oh hell and handbaskets.

Ridge’s next words echoed her thoughts. “Un-debauched? Is that even a word?”

“I don’t know. I just know it applies to us.”

“Did it ever occur to you that you leave here un-debauched because you made the rules of the debauching?”

“Well, now I’m making new ones.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Oh really. I can’t wait to hear them. Are they going to be as vague as this conversation is? Because—”

Bernie reached him in two steps, catching the small heel of her sandal on the braided rug, tripping and falling into Ridge’s arms, where her lips landed directly on his.

On damn purpose.

She didn’t give him time to protest any longer. Instead, she busied herself with his mouth, sighing against his lips when Ridge wrapped his arms around her and hauled her close.

And she let him, wrapping her legs around his waist as her sandals dropped to the floor and she clung to his neck. His mouth covered hers, taking control as he slipped his tongue between her lips and stroked.

Heat, raw and achy, began to build in her belly. Her nipples turned to sharp points, pushing against her bra, driving into his chest.

But then Ridge tore his delicious lips from hers. “Hold the phone.”

She sucked in a ragged breath of air. “Why?”

“Are we really doing this?”

“You better believe we are.”

“But you didn’t even want to call me by my first name—”

“Ridge, Ridge, Ridge. Better now?” She began to reposition her mouth when he plucked her lower lip with two fingers.

“Not so fast. What about all your parolee-slash-boss, people-talking-about-us rules? Even when you shifted into Violet, you had those rules firmly in place.”

She was still processing the story Ridge had told her about her first night here and how she’d shifted into Violet. It was almost too much at this point.

“Which means when I say it, I mean it—even when I’m Violet. But since I’ve been semi-cleared of all charges, that’s off the table now. And, FYI, I was only doing that to protect you, so no one would make fun of you for hooking up with an unsavory.”

“So all this time—all this time while I’ve been fighting to keep my hands to myself, sticking to the plan you made very clear—you’ve been lusting for me?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Lusting?”

“What else would you call it?”

“Okay, fine. Yes. Yes, I’ve been lusting for you.” She found it wasn’t so hard to say after all. In fact, it felt a lot like freedom.

“And you mean to tell me that because I didn’t kiss you again after you shifted into me, I was supposed to somehow know you might want to be a little more than just study partners? I mean, I all but took out a billboard on Main in town, and nothing. You gave me absolutely nothing. You’ve been here every night for what feels like forever, wearing all manner of lust-inducing clothing—”

“It’s the yellow tracksuit, isn’t it? Knew I should have opted for Laura Ingalls prairie-chic to keep your wicked thoughts at bay.”

“I can’t tell you the thoughts I’ve had about peeling that off you. It’s mighty potent workout wear. But that’s not the point. The point is, you’ve been all but intoxicating, yet you never once indicated you were even a little attracted to me since the barn.”