Defeated by responsibility yet again, I thumped my head into Asa’s lap, and he grunted, which, yeah.
Oops.
“How is it that the more I have you,” Asa murmured, “the more I want?”
“Easy.” I raised my head, ignoring the bulge in his pants. “You have a lot of making up to do.”
“If sex was what I wanted, I could have had it.” He smoothed his thumb over my bottom lip. “No, it’s you I can’t get enough of.”
“I’m going to write down all the sweet things you say and publish it as A Witch’s Guide to Taming Dae.” I chuckled darkly. “I might even release an illustrated edition with a chapter titled ‘Twine and You: It’s Not Just for Turkeys.’”
“I’m counting down from five,” Clay bellowed down the hall. “Then I’m coming in, ready or not.”
Bracing my palms on Asa’s knees, I pushed to my feet with an evil grin.
“Five.”
I moseyed over to the door and leaned against the wall beside it.
“Four.”
Quietly, I flipped the lock.
“Three.”
Careful not to rattle it, I gripped the doorknob.
“Two.”
I twisted hard…
“One.”
…and threw it open wide.
Shoulder braced to smash the wood, Clay sailed across the room and pinged off the opposite wall.
“Can we help you?” Asa leaned forward, elbows on knees, hiding the tent in his lap. “You look to be in a hurry.”
“Jeez, Clay.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Learn to knock.”
Clay, who had left a dent in the drywall, faced us with a thunderous scowl. “I know you heard me.”
After dusting off his shoulder, he paused to check the shaggy brown wig replacing his mohawk then resumed his huff.
“I was otherwise occupied.” I made goo-goo eyes at Asa. “All I heard was my name on his lips.”
“You are a dirty liar who lies.” He jabbed the air in front of me. “Know how I know?”
Willing to play along, I asked, “How?”
Clay set his index fingers to either side of his head. “No horns, no horny daemon.”
Thanks to a nifty spell I sourced through an old contact, Asa was managing that condition, but Clay didn’t need to know that. “Maybe they shrink when—”
“Let’s leave my horns out of this.” Asa rose, my attention slid to the front of his pants, then he sat again. “Rue is packing.” He shifted his weight on the bed. “We’ll be out in fifteen minutes. Then we can go.”
“I’m setting a timer,” Clay warned, “and I’m leaving the door cracked one inch.”