Page 39 of Wicked Deeds

“I don’t love it either,” I admitted, resting my head against his chest. Then I pulled back, frowning up at him. “You shouldn’t have followed me. That was…not optimal.” There. More diplomatic than ‘kind of dumb’.

“It was fine.”

“It could have been very not fine if there’d been more of them.”

He dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “There weren’t, so stop worrying. Turn around and I’ll see if I can pry you out of this thing. Is there a zip somewhere?”

“Nope, just buttons.”

He sighed. Buttons took time. “Go get Lianith. Talk to her while I unbutton. I want to shower in peace.”

Good idea. I started to pick up the skirt of my dress to turn around, then stopped. Maybe Lianith could hear me without me leaving the bathroom.

“Hael,” I sent in the direction of the guest room.

The response was almost immediate. “Returned.”

“Yes.” I switched to English. “You chased off another nixling?”

“Yes.”

“Did it talk?”

“No. It ran.” She added something I thought might be coward in Fae, her tone distinctly unimpressed.

“Any idea where it’s from?”

“Not time.Couldn’t tell much. Not Lady.”

“Okay, thank you.” She hadn’t learned anything but she’d done her job.

Damon was watching me with an odd expression.

“What?”

“Were you talking to her?”

“Yes.”

“Weird,” he muttered. “What did she say?”

“It ran when she chased it. She didn’t get anything out of it. But hey, it might spread the word that she’s here now and we won’t get any more visitors.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“Let me message Callum.”

He grunted a ‘yes’, then gestured for me to turn around so he could start on the buttons.

Typing the message to Callum didn’t take long, and an answer pinged back. He would come by in the morning. It was already closing in on two a.m., so fine by me. I put the datapad on the counter and worked on unpinning my hair while Damon worked on the buttons. I finished before he did, but not by much. The last button came free and the weight of the gown pulled it down to the floor.

I let out a groan of pleasure. “I tell you what. All those women back in the day must have been fit hauling all this around every day.” My fingers were already working the fastenings on the petticoats, and I stepped out of those as well to find Damon watching me with a glint in his eye that made my fingers suddenly unsteady. I stopped what I was doing. “Something you wanted to say?”

“Maybe I have a thing for petticoats,” he said.

He moved around me, trailed a finger across my collarbones and back. I shivered happily. “Well, you’ll have to be happy with just me. I’m not going to be voluntarily climbing into another gown anytime soon.” Without the petticoats, I was left wearing only stockings, a garter belt and panties. The dress’s boning had ruled out the need for a bra. I bent to release the first clip on my stockings.

“Let me.” Damon dropped to his knees, his hands moving mine out of the way. He pressed his lips to the small, reddenedmark on my skin where the clip had pressed into it. Heat bloomed in the wake of his kiss and when he moved his mouth a little higher I was very tempted to let him keep going. But both of us smelled like barbecued afrit, which was ruining the moment.

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