Page 70 of Magic and Matrimony

Odie sets down her pool cue and sits on the back of the closest couch. “None of us want to see your ass,” she signs. “Well, maybe Piper does.” She grins at me, and I sigh.

“Oh, I’ve got one,” Roman says and nudges Bram. “Do you remember when someone puked at Jerome Takai’s party in eleventh grade and clogged the toilet? Was that you?”

“Yes. This is the worst,” Ambrose grumbles as he sinks down into his chair like he’s hoping the cushions will eat him.

“I knew it.” Bram throws his head back in laughter.

“I, for one, would really like to see you put on a sexy little outfit. Come down here and give us a fashion show,” Stellan says. “Go on. I need you to do that for us.”

“You guys,” I huff out. Ambrose is already getting up from his chair, mumbling under his breath. “What the fuck is a sexy outfit? I look fucking good in a suit. Is that really what you want to see, Stellan?”

“Stellan.” I shake my head at him.

“All right, fine, never mind. Forget that order. Why don’t you pinch your nipples instead.”

“How about everybody goes home. Let’s try to give Ambrose a little dignity while he does this enormous favor for me, please.” My jaw is clenched. I love my friends, but right now, I want to throttle the lot of them.

Roman stands, holding out his hand for Josephine. He pulls her up off the couch and smiles at me. “I just want you to know that we’re doing this for you, Piper. Ambrose deserves some shit.”

Ambrose is pinching his nipples. “What did I do?”

“Please stop doing that,” I tell him, and he drops his hands with a relieved sigh.

“You know what you did.” Bram points at Ambrose, then claps him on the back as he heads toward the front door.

“I want it known that I’m leaving unwillingly. I feel like we’re really missing out on a great opportunity here. But I love you, Piper. And I respect your wishes.” Stellan drops a kiss on the top of my head and he and Odie follow the others out of the house.

It feels almost unnaturally quiet now that it’s just me and Ambrose. We’ve been up all night, and the sun is about to rise. I’m feeling aches from the night, even though I barely held the shovel tonight.

“Only a little bit longer.” The spell said he’d have to obey commands until a new day began. Once the sun rises, he’ll be free. So will I.

Ambrose is back in his chair. Every time I look at this man, it surprises me. I get to touch him and sleep next to him. He sitsand reads with me and watches horrible reality TV with me. And now he’s lounging in a chair, not even looking remotely human.

A slow smile creeps up Ambrose’s face. “Now that you’ve gotten rid of everyone else, what are you going to do with me for the next two hours?” Ambrose lifts one eyebrow and smirks at me.

I slowly climb into his lap, twining my arms around his neck. Ambrose’s hands glide up my thighs, and he squeezes my ass. He hums, his eyes drifting down my body and back up again. I’m still in leggings and a sweater from our excursion earlier. We could both use a shower, but I’m more interested in what Ambrose wants.

“This could be fun,” Ambrose says, as he works his hands beneath my sweater. His fingers are warm as they glide across my skin and up to my breasts. He pulls down the cup of my bra and brushes his fingers back-and-forth over my nipple until it’s pebbled and taut.

“What could be fun?” I ask, a little breathless.

“Maybe it’s your turn to tell me what to do.”

I laugh. “You want me to boss you around in the bedroom?”

“When will you ever have the opportunity again? Besides, we're not in the bedroom. We’re in the living room.”

I suck on my bottom lip and drag my fingers through Ambrose’s hair. His eyes go half lidded and his chin tips up. Lowering my head, I press a kiss along his jaw and whisper in his ear. “Take off your shirt.”

Ambrose grins as he pulls his hands away from my breasts and practically rips his shirt off.

“That command from you feels a lot nicer than obeying those other pricks.”

I drag my hands down his shoulders, scraping my nails through the dusting of hair on his chest over the ripplingmuscles of his abs. They contract as he sucks in a breath, and my fingers reach the waist of his pants.

“I thought you were supposed to be telling me what to do.”

“Take off my shirt.”

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