The woman tapped her foot impatiently. Just as I tied the bow, I heard a familiar ‘croak’ that warmed my heart. A moment later, a heavy bird landed swooped down the stairs and perched on my shoulder.
I’m hurt. Wounded. Deeply offended. Quoth picked up the edge of the paper and tried to fold it with his talons.I’m an excellent gift-wrapper.
His talon poked through the paper, tearing a long rip right through the center. The woman huffed. I slid the book out of the wrapping and cut off a new square of paper.
Okay, okay, maybe you have a point,Quoth’s voice landed in my head.I can’t stay long. I need to get over to the studio. But I wanted to surprise you before I left.
This is the best surprise,I thought back.Now, stop trying to help me with this so we can get this grumpy old biddy out of here.
“You shouldn’t allow birds inside the shop,” said the woman as I handed her a package. “What if he defecates on customers?”
Is she giving you trouble, Mina?Quoth lifted one leg and waved his talons menacingly.I ate some lovely berries earlier. I can give her a wee present to remember me by.
“Have a nice day.” I thrust the package into the lady’s hands. Thankfully, she bustled out of the shop before Quoth could make good his promise. I stroked the raven’s feathers as he peered around the shop. Seeing we were alone, he hopped around the room, pulling the curtains closed with his beak. He hopped onto the till and transformed. A moment later, a very naked, very beautiful man leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to mine.
“Surprise,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
Mmmmm, and what a lovely surprise it is.I wrapped my arms around Quoth and drew him close, loving this stolen moment between us. It was one of those perfect kisses, where our mouths fit perfectly together and our tongues knew exactly what to do to draw out a moan or gasp or sigh.
It was also…not like Quoth at all. Despite the closed curtains, the shop was still open. A customer could walk in at any moment, or one of our resident fictional characters. Victor was banging away down in the basement again, and Robin and Puck were just upstairs, trading stories about magical forests and maidens fair. Not to mention Heathcliff and Morrie were around somewhere, and if they walked in on us things could get loud and dangerous…
Quoth wasn’t like Morrie – he didn’t get off on the thrill of doing filthy things in the daylight, unless he was in his bird form, watching from a place of safety.
I don’t know what had inspired this dangerous streak in him, but I craved more of it.
“Do you want me to put clothes on?” Quoth’s fingers slid up the hem of my skirt.
“Quoth, I…” All my questions died away under the intensity of his gaze.
He smothered my lips in his, his fingers teasing my clit through my knickers.By Isis, we shouldn’t be doing this. Someone could walk in at any moment. I should have him stop. Iwillmake him stop. Any second now.
Yes, I’ll pull the plug.
Right now.
Right.
Now.
Yes…um…
Quoth kissed a trail along my neck, his teeth scraping my skin as his fingers worked inside me, and I completely forgot about stopping as an orgasm teased the edges of my nerve endings—
“Mina, are you in there?” Jo’s voice rang through the shop. “I really need to talk to you.”
“Ow.” I jerked, and Quoth bit down in surprise. We sprang apart like two teenagers caught snogging behind the bike shed. Quoth dived behind the desk, his cute pasty arse sticking up as he tugged open the drawers in search of the spare clothing he kept down here for this exact purpose.
I rubbed the bite mark on my neck and smoothed down my skirt just as Jo staggered in. “Jo, are you all right? You sound upset.”
“I—I—I—” Jo’s words dissolved into a wretched sob.
I ran to her. Quoth swore as he struggled into his trousers, but Jo didn’t seem to notice him. I led her over to the leather sofa under the window and sank down beside her. Quoth pulled a Blood Lust tour t-shirt over his head and collapsed into the cushions on the other side of her, wrapping his arms around her in that embrace he knew she needed. Jo rested her head on his shoulder.
Morrie poked his head in, took one look at Jo’s stricken face, and with the understanding of a true British gentleman, headed off upstairs to fetch the tea.
Jo’s limbs trembled, and she kept trying to speak but couldn’t seem to find the words.
“Take your time. I’m here.” I knitted my fingers in hers. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
