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Morrigan screwed up her face in disgust. “Not cool.”
“Right? I mean, we all know that kind of tomfoolery takes planning.” Angela tossed her glass back, wondering why the Lagavulin suddenly tasted so diluted.
“And patience,” Morrigan added.
“And lube,” Angela stated.
“Lots of lube,” Morrigan agreed, her almost-black eyes wide in her pretty face.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Roman couldn’t believe his ears. He had run as fast as he could, praying he wasn’t too late to stop Morrigan doing something stupid to Angela.
He figured there would be blood. Or at least some bruising. But what he found concerned him even more. The pair of them were on the floor, drunk off their pretty little asses. Not only that, they were talking about... Sweet baby Jesus! Roman thought. He turned to Abel, who had followed him. “Are they talking about...?”
Abel nodded gravely. “Going into the Batcave? I believe so.”
Roman’s eyes widened in panic. “Jesus fucking Christ! They’ve bonded.”
Abel swallowed noisily, looking a little pale. “What have you done?”
“Me?” Roman glared at him, shoving his shoulder. “You were the one who told Morrigan to get to know Angel.”
“But you agreed!” Abel shot back, shoving him in return.
Roman regained his balance easily, but remorse weighed heavily on his heart. He and Abel stood silently in the doorway, watching as the two women, each dangerous in their own right, bonded over... Batcaves.
“Oh, and FYI,” Angela was saying. “Spit is not lube.”
“Totally,” Morrigan concurred.
Abel looked at Roman accusingly, and Roman hunched his shoulders a little. “What?” he snapped. “I know spit isn’t lube.” Unless I’m rubbing one out on myself, he added.
“Whatever, man,” Abel said. “Just stop whatever this is. This is terrifying.”
Because Roman concurred, and because Angela was talking about past lovers and it made him feel all murdery, he stepped further into the room and cleared his throat. The women ignored him completely. He coughed loudly, only to be ignored for a second time. He looked at Abel in the doorway, who shrugged, and Roman flipped him off for being useless.
“So, you and Roman, huh?”
Morrigan said it with a teasing wink. At least, Roman assumed it was supposed to be a wink. Both her eyelids had come down, but one not quite as much.
Angela shook her finger at Morrigan as if she was a naughty child. “Ah ah ah. I already told you there is no me and Roman.”
Morrigan huffed. “But if there was...?
Angela hummed, rocking side to side for a moment. “Let’s just say I’d let him put his golden key into my backdoor lock whenever he wanted.”
The two drunk women cackled, falling onto their backs and rolling around the floor. Roman worried he was going to faint because there was no way that much blood should be able to move that fast from his brain to his cock, and for him to still be okay. In fact, he thought he may never be okay again. Angela had said that. She’d really said it.
“Do you know what would be funny? If Roman was right behind you,” Morrigan said, finally making eye contact with him and acknowledging his presence.
Angela snorted inelegantly. “Yeah right. That would be a nightmare. The man already has a big enough head thanks to his big enough dick.”
Morrigan blanched. “Ugh. That’s my cousin. I don’t need to know the size of his junk. And I’m sorry, but he really is right behind you.”
Angela snickered drunkenly, punching Morrigan on the biceps. “Good one. You’re so funny.”
Roman cleared his throat loudly one last time. Angela looked up at him from her position on her back on the floor. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were a little glassy. Her lips immediately moved into a pout, and he instantly pictured them wrapped around the head of his dick. He wanted to paint her lips with his precum before sliding down her throat. His cock throbbed painfully.
