DESCRIPTION
Lauren looms over the table, arms braced, her voice sharp as she scolds the fool who snuck into the witches’ school, chasing skirts without a clue of the danger. ‘This is a ladies’ academy,’ she snaps, but his ears catch only the first words before his gaze drops, mesmerized by the sway of her cleavage in that white shirt. His mind drifts, picturing her braless curves spilling free, oblivious to the storm brewing in her glare, or the hex she’s already weaving...