Page 31 of How Not to Date an Angel

He shivered again, cursing his luck.

But then it was done, and the angel squeezed his shoulder gently. “There we go. Clean as a whistle.”

“Uh—thanks, Feathers,” Julian murmured.

“Done with your glass?” Rami asked, and Julian blinked at the hand filling his peripherals.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, and lifted the empty glass to the angel.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Rami said, voice completely casual, and then their footsteps were retreating. Julian turned to watch them go without even a backwards glance, drying their hands on a small towel.

Were they not bothered, inanyway, by Julian, naked and practically pliant under their touch?

Once the door shut softly, Julian leaned back against the porcelain tub and groaned.

So it’s just me, then,he thought, annoyed with himself.

He could still feel their touch, fingers scraping through his hair and thumbs kneading the tense edge of his neck.

What the actual fuck?

Julian was supposed to be the one making the angel feel things, not the other way around. It was quite literally his job to tempt the angel, one way or another, before the end of the week.

How the hell was he supposed to manage that when he couldn’t even sit through a bit of hair touching without getting hard?

He just needed—he had to try harder. Come up with a different plan, a new angle.

What had he expected? Angels, after all, were sexless upon creation. Julian supposed he hadn’t anticipated meeting one—or being bathed by one—who stuck to it.

Now what?

Julian willed his arousal to abate and then got out of the bath, still a little slow on accountof his not-as-sore knee.

The new plan only occurred to him once he’d dried, and walked into the room, seeing the empty bed.

Oh.

Of course.

Nowthatwas something Julian could work with.

Rami

Rami rinsed the glasses and tried to ignore the pinch of warmth that still filled their cheeks.

They hadn’tmeantto grope the demon. It was a total accident. If only the water hadn’t been so foggy from his filthy hair!

And yet Rami could still feel his smooth, warm skin against their fingertips. Could still hear his soft groans that sounded downright debauched. Had he even been aware of how he sounded?

They scrubbed the wine glasses until they gleamed.

Then Rami puttered around, tidying what they could, cleaning up their mess from dinner.

Then they readied the couch for Rami’s less than comfortable rest.

Eventually they heard the tub begin to drain and retrieved a fresh glass to fill with water.

As it filled, they glared over at the couch, not necessarily looking forward to another crooked-necked sleep.

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