Bitch definitely killed her husband,” I breathe as my eyes flicker to his mouth. I want to taste it, taste him.
“I want a chance to woo you. Wine and dine the fuck out of your perfect ass. Which is why…” He jumps to his feet and moves towards the door of the practice room. Before I can ask him where he’s going, he grabs his backpack from where he must’ve discarded it in the hallway before he came in.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he unzips his bag and takes out a checkered blanket. Next comes a few electronic candles, a Tupperware container, and a smooshed flower. “What is all this?”
“This is our first date,” he says with a cheeky smile. He lays the blanket out and places a candle on each corner. Lifting the lid off the Tupperware, he reveals a sandwich cut in half. Turkey, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. My favorite. Next, he grabs his water bottle, opens the top, and places the wilted flower inside of it, setting it directly in the middle of the blanket. “A romantic picnic.”
“While we’re skipping class?” I ask dubiously, though my heart begins to do gymnastics in my chest and dozens of birds fly around in my stomach. This feeling is too intense to be mere butterflies.
“Well, I wasn’t sure if I would get another opportunity to woo you,” he replies unrepentantly, tossing me another one of those megawatt smiles. I’m beginning to realize that this particular smile is different from the ones he usually gives out. It’s not as forced, and it actually reaches his glossy, chestnut eyes.
“Did I even say yes to this date?” I ask as I move from the chair to sit opposite him on the blanket. He hands me one half of the sandwich, and the fluttery feeling in my stomach intensifies. Now, instead of just birds, it’s fucking airplanes nosediving from the sky. My hands actually begin to shake.
“I just bared my soul to you, baby. This totally counts as a fucking date.” He takes a large bite of his sandwich, eyes never leaving my face. It’s almost as if he’s afraid that if he looks away, I’ll disappear. Like a mirage in the desert.
“Am I…?” I clear my throat. “Am I really the only person you ever had feelings for?”
That smolder of his returns as he undresses me with his gaze. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”
“And I know you said you’re attracted to both genders, so I was just…” Once more, I’m unable to finish my thought, so I settle on shoving the sandwich into my face. He smirks at me.
“Are you asking if I’m sexually attracted to anyone else at this moment? Say…one of your other boyfriends?”
I begin to choke on my sandwich bite. “Not. Boyfriends.”
“Like, do I imagine licking down their abs? Taking their cocks in my mouth? In my ass?” His grin grows as my blush deepens. “I realized that I like taking, by the way. So if you ever want to try pegging…”
“Oh my god!” I bring both hands to my cheeks in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. But his dirty words did the trick, and I can feel myself turning damp. The thought of him with one of the other Devils…
“But to answer your question, yes, I think they’re attractive men. No, I don’t have feelings for them, and I doubt I ever will. But sex? Only if you’re between us, baby.”
“I’m pretty sure my cheeks will stay this color if you don’t shut up,” I hiss, and he laughs, completely unperturbed.
“I like that color on you. I like everything about you.” He pauses, glancing down at the crunched up flower. Is that a…? Is that a peony? His next words effectively break through my lust-filled haze. “I even like that you’re a witch.”
“What?” I ask, aghast. Did I hear him right? Maybe he said “bitch.” Yes, that makes more sense. He thinks I’m a bitch.
“You heard me.” That cocky smile never leaves his face, though it does wilt in the corners like the flower before us. His eyes suddenly turn serious. “Peony, I know.”
“What…? How…?”
“And I know you put that fucking boner spell on me as well.” His lips twist into a grimace. “That was really mean, by the way. Though it was surprisingly easy to break.” He leans forward to whisper, “All I had to do was envision you while jerking off.”
“Cassian,” I beg, “how did you know? I mean…how? What? Why?”
His expression turns contrite