Page 32 of Aria's Desire

What if he could facilitate such a connection between Aria and Rellik, and Aria and Thrasin?

Tirox grunted then clapped him softly on the back. “Back to it?”

Shelving those thoughts to contemplate further, Kix straightened his shoulders when they wanted to sag. He was exhausted, drained from reading too many people that day, but their work was not yet finished.

Kix made sure his voice didn’t reveal his fatigue when he murmured, “Yes. To the upper levels?”

* * *

The next morning,Aria crawled out of bed with an unintelligible groan, having been woken by…

Squinting around the room, looking for what had awoken her, she saw Sin on the balcony, just finishing his shift from dragon to man, telling her he’d been out flying. Looking for Rellik, she froze when she found him.

What the hell is he doing?

Eyes going wide, she cocked her head. He was doing some kind of yoga, she thought. Balanced on only his hands, he held his entire body horizontally off the floor. As she watched, he pushed himself smoothly up into a handstand in an impressive show of strength and control, then slowly rolled himself back down, the movement sinuous and erotic.

When he started to look at her, she stumbled away into the bathroom before he could see her flushed face and arousal-glazed eyes.

After finishing her morning routine and getting dressed, she eyed her hair balefully. It was a tangled mess from tossing and turning all fucking night, plagued by naughty dreams. Seeing a brush-looking thing on the counter under the mirrored surface, she attempted to smooth it down but gave up after getting caught in a tangle and having to rip it free for the third time.

Scalp stinging, she thumped the brush thing down and growled, “Fuck it.”

Rellik and Sin spun when she threw the bathroom door open, startled. Stumbling over her own feet when her eyes landed on them, she blinked.

They looked… sexy ashell. Swallowing a growl, or maybe it was a whimper, she eyed them almost angrily, feeling her blood heat with a mixture of desire and possessive disgruntlement that they apparently planned to walk around looking like- like a sex buffet.

Rellik had low-slung, black leather-like pants that clung lovingly to his muscular thighs and the tantalizingly large bulge between them, black boots, and a black tank made of an almost shiny material that outlined his chiseled abs and showed off his broad shoulders and tattoos.

Fuck. Me.

Sin wore black pants, as well, but his were made of a fabric more like denim, in a slightly more relaxed fit that still managed to outline his cock, like it was intentionally trying to draw her eye to it.

Which it did.

She was absolutely positive if she squinted she’d be able to make out the exact shape of his dick.

He, too, wore boots, but instead of a tank, he wore a vest made of something like black leather, hanging open so she had an uninterrupted view of his stupidly muscular chest and stomach and the purplish golden scales that made her fingers itch with the need to touch them.

No shirt under it. Just a vest. Which, okay, it made sense. Easy to take off if he needed to shift quickly, but did he have to look so damn good in it? Honestly, it was like they were intentionally conspiring against her. She didn’t even like vests. Or she hadn’t thought she did before that moment.

They looked like bad boy bikers, or mercenaries, considering they both wore guns on thigh holsters and a knife or three each.

Aria was spitefully pleased when she realized they were eyeing her just as intently as she was them and was happy she’d decided on one of her black bodysuits that clung to her curves and even happier she hadn’t finished zipping the front, putting more than a little cleavage on display.

That lasted right up until their gazes caught, and held, on her hair. Resisting the urge to try and smooth it self-consciously, knowing it wouldn’t make a bit of difference, she settled for glowering at them.

Obviously catching her grumpy expression, they exchanged a look.

Unaccountably irritated with them and their ability to communicate silently like best fucking friends, she narrowed her eyes on them and snapped, “What!”

As soon as she did, she realized she was being an asshole. Sure, she was tired, and she’d cheerfully throat-punch someone for a cup of coffee, but that wasn’t why she’d snapped at them. She knew damn well that the feeling in her chest was jealousy, which was silly. There was no reason to be jealous of their friendship and their camaraderie and their comfort around one another…

Ugh.

Not being able to avoid them was messing with her emotions. They’d been there for all of a day, and, already, she could feel herself losing control of the walls she’d built.

“Sorry,” she grimaced, finally giving in to the urge and reaching up to try and smooth her hair. “Tirox usually does my hair.”

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