The Alpha Who Stole My Christmas
She had insisted we leave the lights on the night we made out, and the memory of her breast, soft, full, flushed, had never left my mind.
She was still pinned between me and the wall, her eyes glued to the floor, refusing to meet mine. I knew this was wrong, yet I leaned in anyway, inhaling her scent until my nose brushed her earlobe.
Quietly, I whispered the spell, wiping the memory of the kiss from her mind.
By the time she opened her eyes fully, she would think she had imagined everything.
Her knees wobbled, so I ensured she held onto the sink before leaving her. The spell had already begun working.
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