Page 54 of The Incubus's Angel
I inhale deeply, appreciating how much he sees of me. “That means so much to me. Thank you.” I know he likes myexuberance, but he’s also seen me vulnerable and shy, creative and dedicated to my work. And he’s still here, still supportive.
Since I’ve met Ren, he’s carefully pulled back layer after layer, seeing me for more than my smiles and easy-going nature. He’s gotten to know the real me, just as I’ve gotten to know the real him too.
I love Ren. I want to stay with him, make him happy, love him the way he deserves to be loved. I just wish I could figure out how to make it all happen.
My heart thumps so violently at the realization, I’m afraid it’s going to come right out of my chest and jump straight into Ren’s hands—where it already seems to be. At some point over the past few weeks, I’ve already given my heart to him and I don’t want it back.
Ren’s mouth opens to say something just as the bell above the door jingles with the arrival of the first customer of the day. Ren holds up his camera for me, indicating that he’ll stay back to take pictures as promised, while I head out of the kitchen to greet the customer.
I’m not sure how I’m going to manage getting through the day with everything running through my head, but after the party tonight, I want to tell Ren how I feel. Maybe we can work something out together? Maybe I can come visit him on weekends while working in Cape Easton during the week?
Whatever it takes, I’m willing to try. Anything for Ren. Anything for our love.
The Flowering Teapot isn’t super busy this morning, but there are enough customers that Ren and I never have a momentalone. He seats himself at a corner table that’s directly in my line of sight from my position behind the counter.
Each opportunity I have, I find an excuse to circle back to him. When I top up his water, he surreptitiously wraps his tail around my leg where no one can see it, the reminder of what’s to come lighting my nerves with anticipation.
Ren works on his laptop, seemingly absorbed with his project, but I know him better. His eyes are like a visceral caress down my back that follows me wherever I go.
When I take him something to eat, he lets his fingers brush against mine and rubs his thumb across my wrist as I lean down to hear his whispered words of praise. Always something small but significant, like how beautiful he thinks I am, how proud he is of me, how clever and creative I am.
Every single touch, every single compliment stokes something higher within me, my panties soaked and my pussy needy by midday. It feels like a little game of Ren edging me all day with his tiny, thoughtful touches, building toward something big that we’ll both get to benefit from tonight.
Around lunchtime, Viggo waltzes into The Flowering Teapot with a purple-haired human who’s not from Starry Hill. He orders them a bunch of food, including his favorite fish-and-prawn pie, but it’s not long before he returns to me with their tray of untouched food.
“Can we get this to go, please? I think we’d rather have a picnic outside,” Viggo asks, adjusting his pants in a manner that he might think is subtle.
Judging by the sexual tension radiating between him and the pretty lady, I joke, “Sure. It’s always best to eat after you fuck,otherwise you might get a stomachache. Indigestion is never sexy. Let me box this up for you.”
A pretty blue blush blooms across Viggo’s cheeks but he doesn’t deny anything, merely mumbles an awkward, “Thank you.”
I add an extra picnic blanket to their basket of goodies and wish them luck as they hurry out of the store, hand in hand.
Ren draws my attention the moment they’re outside and calls me to his table. “Are you okay? Is there something I can do to help?” he asks, his voice filled with concern as his eyes rake over my face and body.
Brows pulling down into a frown, I stumble out, “Uhm, I’m good. Am I missing something?”
Ren squeezes my hand, unconcerned about any of the customers that can see us. “You served shellfish to Viggo, didn’t you? The fish-and-prawn pie. And you’re allergic.”
I nearly melt into a puddle of goo right there on the spot. “I’m okay. I wore gloves. And the allergy is really not that severe. I’m sorry if I made you worried.”
“I just… I want you to be okay,” he says sincerely.
Needing to put his mind at ease, I purr, “You can do a full inspection later if you’d like?”
Ren’s mouth breaks into a grin. Tail grazing up my skirt, the pointed end pokes my butt playfully. “You bet your ass I will.”
By the time the last customer leaves, it’s early afternoon and Ren has teased me with so many light touches that my entire body is primed for him.
However, there’s still a cake to deliver and a party to attend. Even with my wet panties.
I’m about to head into the kitchen to check on the cake for the umpteenth time when Ren’s chair scrapes noisily against the floor.
Turning around, I watch him as he heads toward the front door.
Snick.
The sound of the door shutting pierces the silence.
