Page 94 of Hopelessly Teavoted
Standing up, she let her fingers slide under the edge of her T-shirt. Azrael braced an arm against the doorway, biting his lower lip.
As slowly as she could, she drew the shirt over her head. The delay was agonizing; each inch of fabric set her ablaze, and the rough scrape of it against her nipples made her breath catch.
“Victoria.” He sounded strangled. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and shook his fingers out for a moment.
She tossed the shirt at him, and he caught it, setting it down on a chair.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Hart,” she purred, cupping each breast with a hand against the chill of the early morning. “Can I get by?”
“You can have literally any fucking thing you want, Vickie.” He flattened himself against the doorway and she ducked beside him, narrowly avoiding calamity, the danger of it thrumming through her veins.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said, stopping halfway through the living room, and bending over slowly to slide her sweatpants down, and then step out of them and toward the bathroom. “Care to join me?”
“Yes,” he said, voice solemn and eyes blazing as he strode toward her, stopping an arm’s length away. “I have never wanted anything in my life so much.”
“Good,” she said, walking to the bathroom door and pausing in the entryway to slide her panties off and toss them at him.
He caught them with little effort, running them through his fingers. He groaned. “Damn, these are so wet. You must have been close.”
“I was thinking of you.”
“You know what, how bad can dying be, really? Death comes to us all. I’m ready.”
Vickie laughed. “No dying today, Az. I have a walk-in shower with a corner bench and a particularly strong showerhead that I had to install after a leak.”
“Holy shit,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, face flickering with understanding of what she meant. “You won’t be late for work?”
“I have to shower anyway, and I know someone who offered to help me cheat and make the baked goods more quickly from now on.”
“Devil damn me, yes, you do.”
Walking into the bathroom, she slid the glass door of the shower back and stepped over the rim of it to turn on the water, running it until it was warm.
“Get in here and take your clothes off, Azrael.” The tension stretched between them, agonizing. Between her thighs, her body throbbed for her to finish what she’d started.
“Tell me what you want me to do.” His eyes bored into her.
“Take your shirt off first. Slowly.” He complied, pulling it over his head. She wanted to lick his stomach, the way the muscles moved when he tossed the shirt to the side.
She sat down on the corner bench of the shower, closest to the water, and reached for her breasts, one in each hand.
“Now strip. Slowly. So I can see every inch of you while I do this.”
He bit his lip.
“Can I—with magic—can I help?”
Shit. She’d forgotten about the magic.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please.”
Pulling his pants down, Az stumbled a little, and she watched him as he struggled to get the tight jeans down over his socks. Brow furrowed, he snapped his fingers, and the pants and socks were off, leaving only boxers, patterned with little cats, straining to contain an erection that she wanted so badly to run her hand across.
“Vickie, where can I touch you?” He snapped his fingers, and the magic brushed against her throat. “Here?”
She shook her head.
“Here?” Under her fingers, invisible wisps of power grazed, hardening her nipples. She shifted, and he swore. “Devil dammit, you are so fucking beautiful.” He tweaked them again. “Here?”
