“Yes,” he said.
She tugged at a small snag in her jeans. “I haven’t, uh… I haven’t used it since the day you saw it.”
“That’s a shame,” he said. “Your pretty pussy should have something filling it every night.”
“Briggs,” she said, her tone scandalized, but with a needy edge to it that he found very appealing.
“Why aren’t you using it, baby?” he asked.
“Because I know you have amazing hearing, and I would die of embarrassment if you heard me masturbating.”
He grinned wickedly at her. “I have zero problems listening to you touch your pussy, little witch.”
“Oh my god,” she breathed. “I couldn’t… I mean… wait, are you masturbating?”
His grin widened. “Not at your house, but I went through an entire bottle of lotion the last two nights at mine.”
“Briggs!” She giggled nervously, her hand still fiddling with the snag on her pants. “You did not.”
“It was a giant lotion bottle,” he said with zero shame.
She giggled again. “It’s embarrassing how jealous I am.”
“Then you should use your vibrator.”
“Right. While you listen,” she said.
“While I watch.”
Her pretty mouth dropped open again, and fuck, a man only had so much willpower. Shoving away the image of him sliding his dick between her lips, he said, “Only if you want me to, little witch.”
Her tongue slid along that full bottom lip, and he had to swallow his groan. He reached down and adjusted his suddenly rock-hard dick, as Cece tracked the movement like a predator.
“You really want to watch me do that?” she asked.
“You have no idea how much, baby,” he said.
“I think I… would like that.” Her voice was soft and low, but he had no trouble hearing it.
Fresh excitement washed over him, and any fucking minute now his cock was gonna tear through his jeans.
“Tonight,” he said, “after the warlock leaves.”
She nodded, her dark eyes locked on his. He held her gaze for nearly a minute before he muttered a curse. “I need to get out of this truck before I fuck you, little witch.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Ditto.”
He opened his door and slid out of the truck. “Give me a couple of minutes to confirm it’s safe.”
She nodded, and he closed the door against the scent of her need and his overwhelming desire to take her.
“God, Cece, I’m sorry.” Charissa gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s been a hellish couple of weeks for you.”
“I’ve had better,” Cece said. She’d just spent the last twenty minutes giving Charissa an abridged version of what was going on, and to her relief, Charissa hadn’t questioned any of it. Not even Willow’s ability to communicate with ghosts or Cece’s dead aunt reaching out beyond the grave.
“And you’re certain it’s your family who are after you?” Charissa asked.
“I mean… my aunt certainly thought so, but I don’t have any actual proof,” Cece said.
