Aren’t we?
There was only one way to find out.
Casting caution to the wind, along with doubt and fear, Christine reached up, taking a fistful of his shirt and pulling him down to her level.
There was a brief moment of hesitation where her actions caught him off guard, but Altair responded. He responded.
She wasn’t sure why that surprised her so, but it did. His lips met hers, and she shivered with unanticipated delight at the warmth and feel. Her body was alive, blood singing as it rushed through her veins.
They were making out. In the library.
This is hot!
Altair growled with what she could only assume was desire as the kiss deepened, his hands finding their way to her ample waist, grabbing it and casually lifting her up onto the table.
New heat flooded her body, warmth pooling between her legs at the dismissive way he’d moved her frame, putting her where he wanted her. It was the tiniest bit of manhandling, and yet she could already feel her body straining at the clothing under her robes, aching to be set free, to feel those hands on the rest of her. She craved it.
Craved him.
A knee pushed between her legs and she didn’t resist as he spread her legs wide, stepping up between them even as his tongue pushed past her lips, forcing its way in, exploring her mouth.
Something thumped next to them as a book slid off the table, dislodged by their passionate makeout session. Christine didn’t care, and she wasn’t going to stop. Not with the way Altair had her feeling, the desire to take him inside her rising with every passing second.
Was he going to take her here, in the middle of the library? Someone might see them!
With a flash of surprise, Christine came to the abrupt conclusion that she liked that thrill, the possible knowledge that someone might catch them. It was hot.
Altair’s hands fiddled with her robes, pulling them open at the top, revealing her plain black t-shirt beneath. She moaned softly as he grabbed at her breasts, feeling them beneath the much thinner material.
She didn’t stop him when he started to tug on the shirt, lifting it up in an attempt to expose her chest to him further. One hand was still locked around his neck, keeping his mouth pressed to hers, but the imagined sensation of his lips locked around her nipples was proving to be a mighty distractor, something she wanted badly.
“What are you two doing?”
The two of them froze at the sound of a throat clearing behind Altair’s back. He pulled back from the kiss, their eyes meeting for the first time since she’d proceeded with her wild idea.
“Uhh.” It wasn’t her finest moment, but in the heat of things, it was the best she could manage.
“Yeah.”
Thankfully, Altair wasn’t able to do much better.
She grabbed his shoulder, trying not to bite her lip at the taut muscle under her fingers as she pushed him slightly to the side so she could see beyond him.
The same witch from earlier was there, not looking at them directly, but instead doing everything in their power to look everywhere but at them. But standing next to her was the Master of the library. Christine knew her by look, but they weren’t otherwise familiar with one another, thankfully.
“Your spell came down again, didn’t it?” Altair rumbled in her ear.
“Uh huh.” Apparently, she still couldn’t use her words.
“There’s someone standing there, isn’t there?”
She nodded rather than sound stupid again.
“I’m speaking to you!” the Master said. “Break it up. That’s enough.”
Christine moaned softly. “I can’t get in trouble. I’ll never get the team if she finds out who I am.”
“I guess we had better make a break for it then,” Altair suggested.
“Are you serious? She’s standing right behind you.”
“Not to worry. I can get us out of here, if that’s what you want.”
She nodded again, pulling him back upright so he blocked her from view while she fixed her shirt and tightened her robes.
“Ready when you are,” Altair said with a grin.
“What do you mean?”
“Hold on tight.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, wondering why she was suddenly trusting him now, after everything he’d already done.
“Legs too,” he urged.”
“Ooook.” Confused, she did as she was told, clinging to him like a little spider monkey.
Wind swirled up around them and they shot sideways. Christine shrieked in surprise, while the Master bellowed in anger. Then the wind changed direction abruptly and they raced down another aisle. Behind them, books fluttered, and some came partially out of their shelves but Altair kept his control so fine that most of them were untouched by the passing vortex of human, dragon and air.
It was like being in a tube, propelled along by air pressure from behind. They reached the open area and went up, skipping the need for the stairs entirely. Christine closed her eyes, not wanting to see everything flash past so quickly. They abruptly zipped left and then right again, narrowly avoiding a panicked first year who shouted in surprise and dropped her books.
“Sorry!” Christine yelped, not sure if her words would carry outside the bubble.
Then they shot out into the corridors of Winterspell itself, heading up to the top, skimming above the heads of the other witches at breakneck pace.
All at once, they were outside, flying up high into the sky, alighting on an empty balcony.
“There. See, I told you I could get you out of there,” Altair said, gently letting her down.
“Thank you so much,” she said, resting a hand on his chest, looking up into his sapphire blue eyes, smiling wide from cheek to cheek. That had been fun. On all accounts.
She laughed. Altair joined in, and for a moment everything was carefree.
“I’m glad I trusted you this time,” she said, hoping he would understand.
Her words had an adverse effect, though. Altair went rigid as could be, and his face drained of blood, going pale as
