Devil's Game(67)

I sat up.

“Is there really a glowing unicorn watching us?” I asked, feeling a little panicky. “Because I see one. It’s right there.”

A smile crept across his face and he sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Yup, there’s a unicorn up there all right,” he said. “Must’ve been a kid’s bedroom before we took the place over. Someone painted it for him, I guess.”

Well, that was good news. I might be drunk, but at least I wasn’t hallucinating.

“Why don’t you paint over it?”

“Kelsey likes it,” he said. “Actually, I kind of like it, too. We had some shitty foster homes, but there was one place we stayed that was pretty good. The woman there was way into unicorns. All over the place. They remind me of her.”

“Are you still in touch with her.”

“She’s dead,” he said shortly. “Died about a month after we moved into her house. Heart attack or something. We were damned lucky they kept us together after that—even real brothers and sisters get broken apart. Fuckin’ miracle we weren’t separated.”

I thought about my mom and dad, and how happy I’d been with them as a kid. I missed her so much. And while Dad drove me crazy, I loved him. He was always there for me. Always.

I rolled to my side, curling into him and resting my head against his chest. Then I brought my hand up and rubbed up and down the plane of his muscles, almost restlessly.

“So, what do you think?” I asked.

“About what?”

“Fucking, of course. Remember? I’m not a little girl who needs protection, Hunter. I know what I want. Just lie back and relax, because it’s not personal. I’m just going to borrow your dick for a while.”

He stilled.

“You’re really, really drunk, Em. I think we should talk about it tomorrow. If you’re still interested then, I’m all over it.”

I pushed myself up to lean on his chest, glaring at him.

“If you don’t f*ck me right now, I’m going downstairs to find someone who will,” I threatened. “I’m serious. I’m done with this virgin princess bullshit.”

His face hardened.

“Yeah, that ain’t happening.”

I tried to sit up, but he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight. Then he rolled, taking me with him until I was settled underneath, one of his legs between mine. I felt his dick against my stomach and smiled. That was good—for a minute I’d been worried he’d lost interest. I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away, scowling.

“Oh, seriously?” I asked. “Let me get this straight. You’ve got a drunk girl who wants to have sex with you in your bed. You’ve made it clear you aren’t interested in love or romance. The drunk girl is cool with that. Are you sure you’re actually a real biker? Because something here isn’t adding up, Liam.”

His face softened.

“Say it again.”

“Are you sure you’re actually a real biker?” I asked. He shook his head and grinned.

“No, my name. Liam.”

“Liam,” I said, letting it roll around my tongue. “Liam. Liam. Fuck me, Leeeeam.”

“Christ, I love how you say that. Nobody calls me that but you, Em.”

“That sounded almost sweet,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But we aren’t playing games. I know you aren’t sweet, so stop pretending.”

He dropped his forehead down, resting it against mine.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” he said quietly. “Not gonna blow it now.”

“Maybe I should blow you?”

His face twisted almost painfully, hips swiveling against mine. For a minute I thought I had him. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and rolled off me. He tucked me into his side again, and used his free arm to grab a remote control off the bedside table. The TV sitting on top of a battered dresser flickered to life.

“Tell you what. Let’s hang out for a while. You sober up and still want to go at it, no problem. My dick’s all yours,” he said. “Until then, we’ll watch some TV. You like Top Gear?”

“Sure,” I said, trying not to yawn. I glanced up at the unicorn. It seemed to wink at me, sneaky bastard. I decided to rest my eyes for a minute, because they obviously weren’t working right. Five minutes later I was sound asleep.

I was dead.