Page 55 of The Iron Fae
"No," he grumbles.
His steps make the floorboards creak. He doesn't move toward me, but away, into the living space.
"No?" I say with mock surprise.
"I was fucking worried," he whispers. My new Fae hearing catches it with ease.
"And why would you be worried?"
"I thought we already established that I care about you. Why are you making me say it? Why do we need to say it?"
He’s so insufferable! Would his little Iron Fae heart stop beating entirely if an ounce of compassion snuck out of his cruel mouth?
"I just need to know the answer." I tug the outfit, a corseted number that matches the undergarments splendidly, showing them off through the sheer material. Thick red fabric falls like a waterfall from the hips leaving the front open, though my legs are still covered by pants. So it's more like a pantsuit, I suppose. Even if the Fae acted like they didn’t know that that was not so long ago.
I pause not sure how my new wings are supposed to fit into the garment… or not fit? Will I need an entirely new wardrobe?
Lincoln’s sigh carries into my mind.Relax the muscle. Consciously think about relaxing your wings.
Closing my eyes, I focus on releasing the tension in each of my muscles. I sway as I focus solely on my back and the wings sprouting from it. After a moment they curl against my skin, flattening over my shoulders and hugging my hips once again. I blink my eyes open and carefully pull the outfit all the way up.
Well that’s handy. And will work well to hide my wings when I need to… which might be all the time until I can manage the whole Cordelia situation.
And in this pant suite, I do feel rather business-y. Or really, like I'm ready to take care of business. Will the fondest of my new abilities, the parts of me that make me feel like I can take on the world, eventually wear off? Or will I feel like this forever? I hope it lasts forever. Instead of for the moment.
"Why do you care about me? Why do you care what happens to me?" I hold the pieces to my body and stroll into the living space.
Lincoln is spread out in a single seat, his legs relaxed and parted, his arms hanging against the armrests. His rolled-up sleeves reveal his vascular forearms. He clutches the side of the chair, making the veins in his hands swell. My eyes fall to stare.
"Zip me up?" I bat my eyes.
He stands. Blowing out a long breath, he grabs the zipper, pulling it up. As it zooms smoothly up the fabric, over my wings, he whispers, "You'll be the death of me."
"Or I'll be your saving grace." I twist and snatch up the extra fabric of his shirt making him press against me again. There is a boldness in the way he doesn't hide the bulge that's stiffening inside his pants. It only makes me want him more.
The classic Lincoln smirk tilts one half of his smile. "I'm always up for a good debate."
"You're avoiding the question."
"So is this where I'm supposed to admit that I'm madly in love with you?" He teases his nose along the edge of mine.
Madly. He’s always madly. Madly in love might be a nice change.
"The very least you could do is allude to it."
Lincoln wiggles his brows but doesn't respond. Gently, he pulls one finger at a time off of his shirt. Then drops himself back into the chair.
"I don't know, I seem to fancy this mystery between us." He fiddles with his collar and the wrinkles I've created in his shirt with a frown. “Will they or wont they be together…? That’s the question.”
"You fancy making me insane is what you do." I storm back into the closet snatching up a matching pair of heels. I mumble curses of how frustrating men are as I seat myself across from Lincoln and strap them on. Once I'm thoroughly uncomfortable, I cross my legs and stare back at him.
"You look a little tense." His eyes fall half-hooded
"Let me guess, you'd be willing to help me release some more energy? As if it has anything to do with my powers and not thegrowingneed inside your pants?"
"Actually, releasing the energy of your pent-up sexual needs and desires is directly related to how well you're able to handle the magic. Why do you think we Fae treat sex as we do? We are not stuffy and stiff humans. You are no longer human."
The stuffy and stiff human side of me is more stubborn than anything. "I think, I won't be letting you help me release that sort of energy until you openly admit your feelings."
