Page 19 of Love Potion No. 69
“Told you he was smarter than you were giving him credit for,” Willow says to her mother.
“Bathroom,” Clementine gasps, then slides off the stool and runs to the back.
I follow, and in seconds I’m grabbing the small trash can as Clementine leans over the toilet. For the next few minutes, things aren’t great.
“Was thisreallynecessary?” I attempt to joke as my stomach seizes. When nothing else comes, I relax against the wall and breathe. “Hell of a way to get to know someone, Sprite. I would have thought going to the bathroom in front of each other came before this.”
“Sorry,” she says, hands on her knees after flushing again. “But it wasn’t my idea.”
I laugh. “You are such a liar,” I say, gently scooting her out of the way, then emptying and rinsing the trashcan as best as I can before setting it down.
“Caught,” she smiles wryly. Then she grabs small paper cups and fills them with water. Next, she doles out mouthwash. “Why am I not surprised you knew that?”
I raise an eyebrow and tap my chest over my heart. “Because I know you. In here.”
She hums, and after another round of water and mouthwash, we leave the bathroom.
“Does your mother regularly craft teas that make people puke?” I ask, following the sway of her hips as she leads me back to the front.
She gives me another smile. “To be honest? I don’t know. Seems they’ve cleared out.”
I look around. The others are indeed gone and the lights are off. Battery-powered candles are still lit throughout the space, giving us just enough to see by. “Cozy,” I say, then look back at Clementine as I gesture around. “I think they’re on my side.”
She studies me closely. “Did it work?”
I grin. “If the idea was to demonstrate the kind of family I’m walking into—the kind that uses tea as a delivery system for love potion antidotes and who knows what else—then yes, it worked.” I back her up to the bar and cage her between my arms. “But if you’re asking whether the antidote worked, then you’d first have to assume that the love potion worked.”
Her brilliant mossy eyes shimmer as I lean closer. “Well?” she asks.
God, she smells so good. I can feel her warmth, the way our bodies strain for each other. There’s nothing fake or created about this. It’s all so perfectly, incredibly real. Her chest heaves, nearly touching mine as I hover my lips near the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “You know the answer, Clementine.”
She shudders. “I do?”
I skim a hand up her arm—the burned one, the beautiful one—and bring it up to the exposed skin of her nape, right where I’ve learned she’s incredibly sensitive. “The answer is I love you. This was going to happen, love potion or not.”
“Oh thank god,” she lets out, then pulls my lips to hers.
Clementine
“ILOVE YOU.” The words burst out of me without hesitation.
“About fucking time,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling before he kisses me again.
But it feels so good to say it. “I love you.” I repeat it again and again between kisses.
Quinton deepens the kiss, silencing me as his body presses to mine. He is my world. No, it doesn’t make sense, and yes, there’s a little bit of magic in here somewhere, but it doesn’t matter. His hands tighten on my waist as he thrusts against me.
“I need you, Clementine,” he says against my neck.
I palm his considerable dick and groan, grateful for the angle of the shop windows and the way no one can see us against the counter. “Tell me something,” I say as I push his suit jacket off for the second time today. “What do you wear when you’re not in a suit?”
He huffs a laugh and helps me with the buttons of his shirt. “Sweatpants and t-shirts at home, jeans, regular clothes.”
“And underwear,” I say as we rid him of his pants and shoes. “Do you wear it under the sweatpants?”
“Are we really talking about this right now?” He pulls my t-shirt and bra off, then pulls a nipple into his hot mouth.
“Answer the question,” I say, my eyes rolling back in my head at the sensation.