Two for Tea: Welcome to Azathé (Cambric Creek #4)

by C.M. Nascosta

“Just looking is the best way to find exactly what you’re looking for,” the shop attendant tittered, smiling broadly.

OOTD: Black dress. Black shoes, black bag. Black heart, black soul, like a stain that ought to be washed away.

beelining to her preferred seat to pull out her book. She was desperate to lose herself, to quiet the voice in her head, at least for a little while, until she decided if she was going to continue struggling to swim or sink at last.

She had learned as a teen that her overly emotional responses were too big, too much, making everyone around her uncomfortable, starting with her grandmother, and so she tried to avoid them.

For several long moments, Harper remained as still as a statue, wondering if she could pass herself off a creepy doll left abandoned on the floor.

“Exactly, sweet one, exactly. Good girl. I know just the tea.”

“I think most of your kind can empathize with that emotion, my sweet one. Coming home after your first taste of adult freedom and being restrained by parents who still seek to treat you as a child. Coming back to the place you once lived after a death or divorce or some other cataclysmic event that has profoundly shaped your life. Coming back to a place after you built your own existence far away from it . . . In this regard, I think you are right. The Six of Cups is universal.”

“Seriously, if we both have wet pussies, then why aren’t we doing something about it? You lick me, and I’ll lick you.”

A small card rested before the tray, listing the items contained therein — a black tea with satsuma and ginger. The fruity-spicy zing of it heated her cheeks at first sip, a clear complement to the spicier reading material before her. The savories continued the trend — a ham and brie round, the meat crusted with black pepper, a phyllo cup of jalapeno-studded pimento cheese, and a sriracha-braised pork bun. The dessert was a decadent dark chocolate mousse, and Harper wondered how long they had been planning this menu. Just waiting to spring the dirty books on you and feed you all the spicy food. Is this what heaven is like?

Sure sounds like heaven

but they said they could assume whatever form was needed. Does that mean two cocks like a naga?

Harper was certain the stiffest breeze would immolate her, and when Azathé‘s dark, sinuous voice curled around her ear without warning, she yelped, sloshing her tea as she slammed the book shut. “My sweet one, whatever is the matter? You are trembling like a newborn kitten. I only came to see how you are enjoying your pairing.”

“Get in, loser. We’re going shopping.” It was Holt, leaning over the passenger seat with a grin. Harper scowled. Literally being catcalled.

“She’s a shadowmancer.”

“That’s exactly why. And I trusted you to make the decision for me. I still do. And I know that you’ll take care of me. I have very simple needs.” “And those are?” Harper shrugged, grinning, her lips pressed together. You’ll never know unless you try. “Good books. Hot tea. Someone to call me a good girl as they hold me down and fuck me into next month. Maybe one of those little fruit tarts. Hot soup. A pumpkin on my doorstep. Very simple needs.”