“Why not.”
He makes a show of walking me around the small living area, but I’m more focused on the photos, anyway. They’re just so incredible. I feel like they should be in a magazine.
It makes me wonder what else I don’t know about him. Enough to fill volumes. The entire library, perhaps.
He walks into the bedroom, standing aside to let me enter.
“And this is where the magick happens?” he says, then laughs. “Well, not really. I do most of my spellwork in the kitchen. Easier cleanup.”
There are more photos in here, and I take my time exploring his bedroom, taking everything in. There’s a really captivating shot hanging over his dresser, black and white like the others. It’s the back of a woman’s shoulder, the line of her chin just visible, a thin black strap slipping down her skin.
“Is that Carly?” I blurt out like a fucking idiot.
“What do you think?”
I turn around to face him. He’s right behind me, so close I can smell that damn sexy masculine scent of his—pepper and earth. Woodsmoke. Danger.
“I told you,” he says now, “I’m not with her. Not like you think.”
I glare at him, trying to find the lie in his words. But when I reach out for his energy, I find only sincerity. Intrigue.
And lust.
“Who is she?” I whisper.
“Just a model in a photo class I took in high school.”
I swallow hard. The beer in my hand is turning warm.
Baz leans in close, takes the beer from my hand. He sets both bottles on the dresser.
“No coaster?” I ask.
“Stevie?”
“Yes?”
“You look fucking hot in that dress.” His eyes blaze, and he lifts a hand to my shoulder, fingertip tracing the thin silk strap.
Goosebumps erupt on my skin.
I swallow again, blood rushing to my head, heat rushing to my core.
“This is a bad idea,” I whisper.
“Terrible.”
“The worst.”
“Obviously.” His mouth crashes into mine, insistent, demanding, and I melt into his kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck as he slides his hands down to cup my backside.
We bump into the dresser, knocking over the beers, but Baz doesn’t care. Doesn’t stop. His hands are everywhere and his mouth is everything and when he sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and moans, I feel the last of my resistance crumble into dust.
“Are you sure this what you want?” he asks, panting between kisses.
A spike of panic hits my gut. “Did you change your mind?”
“Not a chance.”
