Page 21
Oh. My. God.
“Yup. Got it.”
He cups himself through his jeans. “I have a penis.” His fingers trail upward, landing on his button. “Would you like to see it?”
I choke. “Is that how you seduced women back in the 80s? You just asked them to take a peek and then whipped it out?”
“I wouldn’t know. I never seduced a female because I never found my mate before.”
His fated mate.
Me.
Oh, no, no, no.
“So you’re a virgin?” I blurt out. “Or did all the girls of your time just fall into bed with you without you, um, having to seduce them?”
Gotta say, if all he did was walk around naked and smirk at them like he did before, it wouldn’t be that hard. Add in how undeniably sexy it was to watch him lap that the corner of his mouth, then lick the pie filling off of his fingers after he told me that there’s no way my pie didn’t taste better than Cindy’s… yeah, if it wasn’t for the weirdo Halloween, warlock, curse twist, there’s a good chance this might have already turned into one of my infrequent sexy dreams—
He juts his chin out in something like defiance. “Of course I am. I was waiting for my mate. But don’t worry, Kate. I know that witches don’t have fated mates. Neither do humans. You wouldn’t have known to wait for me, so I understand if I won’t be your first. Of course, if you tell me about any of your other lovers, I’ll have to hunt them down and curse them once mine is broken. Since I’ll have plenty of other magic to perform… and a new mate to satisfy… I’d prefer not to have to do that. So, between you and I, let’s not talk about the past.” His voice goes husky. “Not when we have forever to look forward to.”
Forever. Yikes. Is that what a mate bond means? I fuck him and I’m stuck with him forever? And, sure, I knew that I was offering Mr. Whiskers a forever home when I adopted him, but Vincent…
Wait. If he’s my cat, then…
“How can you sleep with anyone anyway? Aren’t you…” I lower my voice to almost a whisper. “Neutered? You don’t have any troublepuffs. I know. The vet told me.”
He sniffs. “I have a limited amount of magic reserved when I’m a feline. It was simple enough to conceal them for now.”
I translate that in my head. “You used magic to make your cat balls disappear?”
“It’s a glamour, dear Kate. Trust me. I’m completely intact.”
Believe me, I know.
However, since Vincent doesn’t seem to think I remember what he looked like, standing there naked in my kitchen, he starts to unbutton his jeans.
I throw up my hands. “No!”
He pauses. “That tone. I know that tone. I’d prefer it if you didn’t grab the spray bottle, pumpkin. I’d rather you get wet, not me.”
Pumpkin? Pumpkin? That’s not the first time I heard him say that when addressing me. But why the hell does he keep calling me ‘pumpkin’?
You know what? Never mind. I don’t think I want to know…
Instead of going for the spray bottle that I keep behind the counter for when Mr. Whiskers gets into mischief while I’m working, I reach out a hand against the wall of the stairwell, steadying myself instead so that I can get to my feet.
I have to. Sitting on the stairs with Vincent so close… my head is way closer to his groin than I’m suddenly comfortable with.
He pouts a little as he backs away, watching me accusingly as though he expects me to dodge and weave and grab the spray bottle anyway.
I don’t, though I do wave my hand in the general direction of his junk.
“No, thanks,” I say weakly. “I already saw it before. Trust me. I know you have, er, a penis.”
Small victories. Before, when he tried—and failed—to conceal it behind a dish towel for me, he called it a ‘cock’. And while I interchangeably refer to my lover’s equipment as a cock or a dick depending on how frisky I am, if I believe he is who he says he is, I watched him go to shit in his litterbox earlier. There is nothing sexy about that, just like there is nothing sexy about a cat-turned-warlock mentioning his penis.
Though when I think about the sneak peeks I got of that thing…
