Chapter 14 Jack
Jack
“You know you don’t have to sit so far away,” Rosie laughs as I sit on the furthest couch cushion from her in the living room.
We’ve eaten dinner here, and now greasy paper plates and a mostly empty box of pizza are on the coffee table before us.
She’s still in that sweat suit that engulfs her whole body and shouldn’t look as good as it does, but here we are.
And I feel… at a loss. I’m not sure what the standard protocol is when you’re temporarily magically attracted to your neighbor who is supposed to annoy you to your bones.
Especially when, with each passing minute, you have to fight harder against the voice in your head that’s begging you to reach over and tug her into your lap so she can watch whatever random television show is playing with her head on your chest.
“I think…” I swallow, that now familiar panicky feeling building in my gut, as though if she gets within arm’s reach, I won’t be able to stop from pulling her body into mine.
“I think it’s better that I stay here.” She looks to me, confusion marring her gorgeous face before tipping her head to the side.
“Why? Do I…” Her blue eyes go wide. “Oh my god, do I smell?” She lifts an arm and starts sniffing before pulling at the neckline of her shirt to try and smell beneath it.
Unfortunately, it pulls the hem of her sweatshirt up a bit, giving me a glimpse of the soft, smooth expanse of her bare stomach and the fair skin at her hips, which, in this moment, I would give anything to see.
“No. No, you don’t smell.” Bad, I add silently, because Rosie smells like lavender sugar, sweet and calming all at once.
She stops trying to smell herself and looks at me skeptically, waiting for an explanation.
I groan, running a hand through my hair before finally speaking.
“I feel like I’m going crazy,” I finally admit.
She raises an eyebrow. “If I sit closer to you, I think all common sense will be out the window, and I’ll pull you into my side and make you sit there for the rest of the night.
” And ideally, a whole fuck of a lot more, but I’m not touching that one right now.
I rub at my chest, at the source of those fucking gold strands.
“The kiss bond,” she says with understanding.
I shrug. “I guess.”
She grimaces, guilt written all over her face.
“I’m sorry. It should be gone in about three more days.
” I grunt out my agreement as if I haven’t been holding onto that countdown with every bit of sanity remaining in my bones.
Simultaneously, I try not to think too much about how she’s saying the need only impacts me.
“But, really, would that…” She swallows, her tongue coming out to lick at her lips.
I can’t stop watching it, and when she speaks, I’m so lost in it that it takes me a moment to actually hear what she’s saying. “Would that be so bad?”
“What?”
“Would pulling me into your side and sitting with me all night be that bad? It would ease the bond a bit.”
“It would ease the bond,” I repeat low to myself. She nods then, but I shake my head in the negative, forcing myself to worry more about her comfort than my own discomfort. “I can manage. You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable to ease my temporary issue.”
“The issue is my fault, Jack. And, you know, you’re not the only one feeling its effects.
” Well, that’s good to know, I guess. I force myself to focus on that new fact rather than how her tone went breathy.
“I didn’t hate it, you know,” she adds, and I see it then: a light blush of her own burning over her cheeks.
It’s sweet on her, the almost watermelon color blooming on her cheeks.
It’s also unexpected from Rosie, who seems to love picking and prodding at me, whose confidence could rival a supermodel’s.
“Hate it?”
“Kissing you. It was… nice. You’re a good kisser, Jack.” Those golden threads seem to throb against my skin with her words, and I wonder if she feels that too, or if that’s my own unique torture.
“We could try it again. We could…” She licks her lips, eyes locked on mine. “We could make out?”
“Make out?” I ask with a laugh, thrown back by her suggestion. “What do you mean by make out?” A beat passes before her eyes go wide with shock before a teasing smile takes over her face.
“Oh my god, Jack, have you never made out with a woman before?” It puts us on more even footing, since this is the version I’m used to: the teasing version of Rosie, not the nervous one.
“I mean, I know you’re all nerdy, but…” Those big blues go somehow wider, and she gasps. “Oh my god, are you a virgin?”
“No, I’m not a virgin,” I say quickly with a shake of my head.
She smiles, and I realize I fell into some trap of hers with my quick answer.
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “I’m not a virgin.
I’m just… I don’t see how… making out would fix anything.
” She nods with understanding before explaining in shockingly patient terms.
“The magic of the kiss bond is more protection than anything, but magic has side effects, so it makes us both feel a bit protective, like when you felt jealous at the club, but it can also make you feel… needy.”
“Needy?” I ask, but the word sounds like a whisper to my ears. Her smile goes from soft to embarrassed.
“That untamed feeling, you said? It’s you needing to know I’m nearby, to get reassurance that I’m not going anywhere.
I feel it too. It’s the protection aspect of it.
When you walked into my place and locked eyes on me, did it lessen?
” I remember the feeling like a weight was lifted off my chest and nod.
She gives me another soft smile. “The magic of the bond. You saw me, could confirm I was safe, the magic eased off.”
“But…”
“But the magic also doesn’t really love that we’re in the same room and not touching.
Remember in the car? Holding hands?” I nod.
“It eased you. Being together for that length of time helped, bonus points that we were touching. It built up during that evening, making the separation from the bond endurable for a bit, especially with both of us busy and distracted with work and right across the street.”
“Okay…”
“It lingers, the ease, but since you’ve been avoiding me for days—”
“I haven’t—” I correct, but she shakes her head.
“It’s fine. I was avoiding you too. I feel bad, doing all of this to you.” Her fingers glide over one of the golden strands lightly, and I give her a soft face.
“You had to. I insisted on coming to the club with you.” She shrugs like that doesn’t matter.
“I could have warned you. I could have given you more of a choice. I kind of made that decision for you, and that isn’t right.
I’m sorry for that.” It’s a genuine apology, one she doesn’t need to give, but one I appreciate all the same.
“But I’ve never, uh…” Her words trail off before she takes a deep breath, like earning the courage.
“I’ve never done a kiss bond with someone.
” She tugs a locket out of her sweatshirt.
“This amulet typically blocks it, and since I’ve never told a man what I am, I’ve always worn it.
All of this information is from my research on the bond. ”
“You’ve never done it?”
She shakes her head. “Revealing who and what I am is a big risk if I tell the wrong person, not just to me, but to my sisters too. It’s a leap of faith.
If I couldn’t trust that I would be able to tell a man I loved him without things ending terribly, I surely didn’t want to tell him about my magic.
” I nod then, still contemplating. “But it’s pretty…
typical of witches and supernaturals to have a kiss bond with their partners. It’s a public claiming, so to speak.”
The words settle in my stomach, and the idea of Rosie publicly claiming me makes me feel warm in my gut. Fuck, this kiss bond is some heady shit. I’ve never liked a woman who took control, much less claimed me. Yet here I am, fantasizing about Rosie claiming me for real.
“If we kiss now, halfway through, the bond will probably be sated until it fades completely. If we don’t, there’s a good chance you’ll feel the same pull as you did before you came over in the morning, and you might have to spend more time with me to sate it.
” I try not to think too hard on how the idea of spending time hanging out with Rosie once felt like a painful punishment, and now I’m starting to actually enjoy her company.
“Will it make it last longer?” I ask. She shakes her head.
“No. I’m wearing this again.” Her fingers move to the locket and lift it. “It stops kiss bonds from forming.”
“And then this urge will fade in a few days?”
She nods. “But if we… sate the urge now, it will be a more tolerable few days. You can go back to ignoring me more or less until our next excursion.” I don’t have the mental fortitude to think about our next excursion, not when her eyes keep drifting to my lips, not when all I can think about is the kiss outside the club, her lips on mine, the way she felt in my arms.
It’s the magic, I know. That’s what has me feeling this way about this woman who typically drives me up a wall, but I can’t seem to rationalize with myself. Not right now, not when she’s looking at me this way.
“Okay,” I say low, taking my glasses off and setting them aside.
“Ok—?” she starts, but my desire wins when I reach across the couch and tug her into my body until she’s pinned against me, until my lips are moving against hers.
A small sigh leaves her lips as if relief is flooding her, her body going a bit lax as she does, and it’s a feeling I understand as well.
The second our lips touch, that feeling in my chest loosens, the magic loosening its grip and leaving my chest, the bond moving around us to tie us closer together.