My Angel: The Tribrid Alpha’s Obsession
They scramble.
I stand in the middle of the empty boutique, my arms crossed, my shoes tapping against the marble. My blood is roaring in my ears, and my skin feels too tight. Every nerve ending is screaming for friction, for him, and the fact that he's still trying to play protector while I'm literally vibrating with need makes me want to scream.
Azren steps up behind me, his hands hovering like he's afraid to touch.
"Angel," he tries again, his voice softer. "If they're watching—"