Title: It's all about the legs
Author: Aphrodite Sky
Rating: PG-13
Distribution: If you want it, let me know
Summary: Does Angel ever get any work done?
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I claim nothing. I know nothing.
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He watches as she stares intently at the computer screen. Her forehead slightly creases as she ponders what she sees on the screen. Absently she scratches the bridge of her nose.
He watches as she turns her head and shuffles through some papers on the desk next to her. The dark hair, which frames her face so perfectly, swings gently across her cheek. She flicks it away and tucks it behind her ears.
A piece of paper falls off the desk and he watches as she bends down to pick it up. She is wearing a navy blue shirt, held together with two buttons and a bow tied neatly above her navel. Her smooth, creamy skin peeks out the bottom of the shirt, enticing his eyes and enchanting him.
His eyes draw higher to where her red lacy bra peeks out of the deep v-neck of the shirt. He shifts in his seat as he feels his body responding to the sight before him. He turns his head to the side, trying to escape the power she holds over him.
However, he draws back, he cannot break free of her spell.
She rises and returns her gaze to the computer screen. The stray hair escapes again and she blows it away with her gentle breath. He stares mesmerised as if she were a hypnotists pocket watch.
He forces himself to look away, but finds himself staring at her petite, stockinged feet poking out from under the desk. He stands, moves to a chair to his right, where he can see more of her.
She looks up briefly when he moves, but she says nothing and returns to her work.
He lets out a quiet sigh, as his eyes follow the smooth lines of her shapely legs - starting at her feet and working his way up to calves, knees and thighs. Her short, blue skirt does not hide a lot, but enough to entice his imagining. Oh, how he would love to trace the length of those legs with his hands - to reach the hem of that skirt and to..
He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but again she distracts him, this time by the gentle curve of her cleavage. She has shifted slightly in her seat and the lapel of her shirt has drifted open. He sees more of that lacy bra and he cranes his neck slightly to attempt to see more of the delights she keeps under that shirt.
She looks up at him sharply and speaks to him. He turns his head quickly and pretends to be stretching his neck. He doesn't hear what she says to him. She shakes her head at him, that hair tempting him with its movement, and returns her gaze to the computer screen once more.
She lifts one leg slightly, curls her toes and rubs the shin of the other leg. He stares, hopelessly entangled in her every movement.
He wriggles slightly in his seat, feeling the tightness in his groin increasing. He crosses his legs, hoping she will not notice his arousal. After all, she doesn't know how he feels about her.
She stands and turns around to take a book of the top bookshelf. She stands on tiptoe and stretches up to the book. His gaze is drawn to the curve of her buttocks and he again notices the shortness of her skirt and he can thinks he can see a hint of her panties - red - like the bra.
An audible groan escapes his lips as the throbbing in his groin intensifies. He stands, quickly, and awkwardly attempts to walk - gracefully away. However, he finds that he cannot walk 'gracefully' in his highly aroused state. Instead, Angel swaggers, limping swiftly away to another part of the building where he can regain his - uh - composure.
Cordy turns just in time to see him limping awkwardly away. A knowing smile graces her lips as she lets out a sigh of her own.
