Little Prick by Zenina Masters Page A

way.
    When their heartbeats reached normal, she turned to him with a smile. “That was almost as good as bacon for breakfast.”
    “Almost?” He raised his dark brown eyebrows with a smirk.
    “Well, yes. That is the best morning I have to compare it to, so that is my yardstick, either that or I am hungry and Teebie is making bacon.”
    He looked a little offended, but then, he lifted his head and inhaled. “Bacon, muffins and honey. Why are we still in bed?”
    She burst out laughing when he carried her to the bathroom and squealed when he stuffed her into the shower and the cold water struck her before it warmed. “That was nasty.”
    He chuckled and crowded her back. “Tough. It was revenge for saying that bacon was better in the morning than I was.”
    She pinched his nipple with a hard tweak. “If you aren’t willing to work, this isn’t going to be much of a union.”
    Axander winced and grabbed her hand. “All right, if you want me to work, I will.”
    He pinned her hands to the wall and lifted her against the cool tile. Between the heat of his body, the warmth of the water and the temperature of the wall behind her, her mind was reeling as it tried to figure out what was going to happen next.
    He kissed her, his chest against her breasts and his hips holding her in place. Axander bit at her lips and snarled low.
    She shivered and held tight.
    He whispered, “Is this better?”
    She blinked into his eyes and noted the small gold flecks against the mahogany brown. “Better than what?”
    He nibbled at her neck under the pounding spray. “Bacon.”
    The laughter welled up and burst out. “Much better than bacon.”
    He bit her neck softly. “Are you sure? Bacon is pretty good, almost as good as honey.”
    “Almost isn’t good enough.” She tilted her head to one side as she shivered.
    “Ah, you are sweeter than honey when you are in my arms.” Axander stroked her torso with the hand not holding her arms above her head.
    She twisted, seeking more contact with him. He laughed softly and released her, standing back and scrubbing her back before sliding his fingers inside her. She had no idea what was going to happen next, so she was hot, bothered and leaning against him when he righted her and patted her bottom. “I will be with you in a moment, Prix.”
    She winced. “Please don’t call me that. I have been Prix, Prickie, Prickles, Prixie and Little Prick all my life. Can you call me something else?”
    “It will be an adjustment. I mean, even your coveralls have said Prix.” He pointed out the obvious while lathering up his cock.
    She tried not to look, but it was hard. “I know, but that was a joke by one of my half-dozen brothers. My coveralls have had any number of names on them. None of them have been Pansy.”
    “I will work on it.”
    She grinned. “Thanks, honey.”
    He winced. “Okay, anything but that.” He rinsed off and turned off the water.
    She handed him a towel and dried her hair before chasing water droplets across her skin. It was hard for shifters not to shake dry, even when in human form. Pansy had developed a routine that resulted in her being dry from head to toe, in that order.
    When she was done, Pansy wrapped herself in her towel and headed back into the bedroom. She froze in her tracks. “Damn, she is good.”
    Axander bumped into her. “Whoa. Did she really come in here?”
    Pansy looked up at him. “I doubt she set one foot in the room. Have you seen Teebie?”
    “At the bar the night before last. She’s blue. Why?”
    “She’s a djinn, the same way my godmother is a fae. Magic is in their blood. You can’t separate one from the other. They use it the way other folk use hands.”
    Pansy found her hairbrush and took a seat at the makeup table, brushing until her hair fell down her back in a damp curtain.
    “How long does it take you to do your hair each day?” Axander was sliding on his jeans.
    “I brush it and go. When it’s dry or when I have to climb