A Little Wicked (The Bewitching Hour Book #4)(18)

The movie he put on was raunchy, and even though it had sex, it was hardly the tempting kind. She laughed a lot in the beginning, but soon enough drowsiness started to take over. Her eyes were drifting shut as she started to melt into Dante, appreciating the relaxation that she so desperately needed.

Then Dante shook her shoulder. “Hey, hun. Movie’s over.”

She blinked a few times. It felt as though no time had passed at all, but sure enough, the credits were rolling. She rubbed at her eyes as she sat up. “Wow. I don’t remember falling asleep.”

He gave a little chuckle at that. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing people normally remember,” he pointed out.

She was still too drowsy to think of a witty retort, but then he reached for her and pushed a few lose strands of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I think you’re cute when you sleep.”

She could feel the blush creep up her cheeks but tried to keep her cool. “You always think I’m cute.”

“You got me there.” And when he leaned forward, she didn’t even think about stopping him. Maybe she was too tired. Maybe she was just using that as an excuse. She wanted to touch Dante. She wanted to kiss him, undress him, and know him in every way a woman was supposed to know a man.

Even though Dante could be everything she thought a bad boy was, the kiss was soft and gentle and exploratory. It made her like him even more. She finally had the chance to run her fingers through his hair, and without moving from her mouth, he adjusted their position so he was crouched over her, with one hand on the back of her jean-clad thigh and the other bracing him on the bed.

As soon as their positions shifted, the kiss took on a different feel. It wasn’t so sweet and innocent anymore but was deeper and more passionate. She soaked up the sensation of having a man on top of her, the first time this had happened in years. And she’d never been with a man like Dante.

She cupped his face with her hands and pulled him in closer as she kissed him with everything in her. Her tongue tentatively brushed his and she lifted her hips.

When she felt the barest evidence of his erection, she sucked in a breath at the unexpected sensation and cursed her own naiveté. She knew how sex worked. It was just so strange to feel that and know the erection was for her.

She pulled back and opened her eyes to smile up at him coyly, but Dante’s dark-green eyes weren’t looking at her. These eyes were dark pools of black and seemed to stare into her very soul.

Claire jumped back and slammed her hands into Jackson’s chest, but all of a sudden, he was back to Dante as he fell off the bed and onto the floor.

“What the fuck?” He pushed himself up and looked at her.

She stared at him in abject horror, waiting to see whether he was going to change back into Jackson or vice versa again. When it became apparent that Dante was actually Dante, she looked around the room. “Am I sleeping? Is this a dream?”

Dante’s annoyance quickly changed to concern. “Hey, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I thought—”

“It’s not you,” she assured him, even though her eyes still bounced around. She wasn’t expecting Jackson to come bouncing out of the shadows at this point, but adrenaline was coursing through her and she was trying really hard to override the fight-or-flight response right now.

Dante stayed standing, giving her some space. “What happened? Was it a ghost thing?”

Ghost... was it possible? Was Jackson haunting her from the grave? She remembered what he’d said to her as she’d sucked the life out of him. He said he’d always be with her. And considering Angela had shot him, multiple times, it would make sense that he was going after her too. “I, um....” She really didn’t want to tell Dante what was happening but didn’t see a way around it. “I saw Jackson.”

He blinked a few times, trying to digest it. “Like, in the room with us?”

“Yes.” Kind of true. She didn’t want to tell Dante that she’d imagined herself kissing him. Twice in one day now. Besides, as long as she told Dante that she was seeing Jackson, that was the important part.

It wasn’t as if she was imagining making out with Jackson for fun. Dante didn’t know about the time Jackson had kissed her, and he sure as hell didn’t know that for a moment she had been conflicted about which one of them to pursue a relationship with. But she had chosen Dante before she ever knew Jackson was evil. No reason to tell Dante anything that would make him feel worse. Not when he was the one she chose.

Dante looked around the room cautiously. “What happened? Did he say something to you? Threaten you in any way? Do you think he was corporeal?”

Her mouth fell open at the questions she had no answer to. “At this point, I’m not sure I didn’t imagine the whole thing. I saw him earlier today too, but that was a dr—nightmare and I figured it was brought on by stress. Now that Angela’s apartment is trying to kill her....”

Dante nodded. “You’re right. Two times is too many.” He walked around the room, flipping on all the lights and looking around the room, but there was no sign of anything. Though if he knew what she really saw, he’d be looking in a mirror. Both times, Jackson had morphed out of Dante.

“I think there’s only one person who can give us answers.” Claire wrapped her arms around her knees.