“What do you think?” Buffy held her arms out and twirled around in a circle to give him the full view of her new outfit.
Angel tried, he really did try not to notice the way the short, short purple skirt barely fell to the tops of her thighs and that the skimpy matching top left little to his imagination. But it was hard. He swallowed a groan. Damn. Was she trying to kill him?
At the continued silence Buffy spun around to face him. “Don’t you like it?”
All he could do was nod his head.
She beamed up at him. “Do you want to see the next one? It’s red and black and has a flowing long skirt with a cinched waist and a square cut bodice. Kind of like the dresses in the 1800’s. I’m not sure where I’ll wear it but for some reason I couldn’t resist.”
His eyes glazed over. He could picture it in his mind exactly the way it would look on Buffy. He couldn’t stop his loud groan from echoing through the room.
Angel sank down onto the edge of the bed. He wasn’t sure but he thought he caught a glimpse of a smile on her face before she turned and walked out of the room. The minx was testing his control almost beyond all endurance.
Two could play at that game.
He kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and lay back across Buffy’s bed, à la
Fabio and waited for her return.