I look at Hank, and somehow, I know he’s holding back. It drives me nuts when he does that, or any of them.
With all the stress of trying to become who I"m expected to be, protect people, and learn my magic, the last thing I want him doing is treating me like I’m made of glass. Or anyone, for that matter. I"m not going to break at the slightest touch, I"m not some wilting flower in danger of being picked. With everything that"s been going on, everyone seems to have forgotten that I looked after myself for twenty-something years. Without magic. I"m perfectly capable.
Without"Come on," I whisper as I move my hand closer to him.
Hank studies me carefully. “Where?"
How cute. He has no idea what I"m on about.
I run a finger along his erection and lift a brow. Now he"ll understand it.
Now“
