Wicked (A Wicked Saga, #1)(35)

"No."

He raised the piece of candy as if he was toasting me then shoved it in his mouth. How he stayed in shape was beyond me. Jumping to his bare feet, he placed his hands on his narrow hips. "You know what I've been thinking?"

"Yeah?" I yawned, reaching up and tugging out the bobby pins.

"That guy that was in here last night?" He picked up the pin I'd placed on the counter and twirled it like a baton as he marched back and forth. "I think you want to get it on with him."

"Uh. What?" Moving my fingers through my hair, I eased the knots of curls. "What in the world makes you think that?"

"You left the house with him even after he obviously broke in. I'm telling you what, you females are freaks. Guys break in and you all swoon like B&E is a desirable trait," he ranted, still twirling the hot pink pin. "Females of my kind? If you did that they'd eat you for dinner. And not in the fun way. They'd start off by eating the man parts." He grabbed his junk as if I needed a visual aid. "And then they'd—"

"Okay. I get it. First off, I don't think breaking into my apartment is something to swoon about. I don't think most girls do. Secondly, Ren didn't break in, because someone," I pointed at him, "left the French doors unlocked."

His eyes widened. "I did no such thing."

I arched a brow.

"Okay. I might've done that, but he climbed a wall to get in, and that's kind of . . . well, that's actually kind of impressive." He lifted the pin, shaking it at me. "I bet that means he could pick you up and—"

"Oh my God, Tink, really? He's a member of the Order. He's new to the area. And he's apparently impatient and didn't want to wait for me to return his call. Does that mean we're going to get naked and pretend to make babies? No." An odd sense of disappointment washed over me, and I pushed the sensation away. "So not going to happen. And I'm not talking about sex with you."

The pin clattered when he dropped it on the counter, and he rose into the air so I was eye level with his bronze chest. "Let's talk about sex."

"No." Rolling my eyes, I walked away.

"Sex is good!"

"Shut up, Tink."

"Sex is fun!" he continued to shout.

I shook my head. "The only thing you're having sex with is inanimate objects, so what do you know?"

He ignored me. "Sex is best when it's one on one!"

Stopping in the hall, I turned to where he was doing a pelvic thrust. "Isn't that a George Michael song?"

"Maybe. But he was wrong. I like to think sex is best when it's like three on three or something. Seems more adventurous."

"Whatever. Goodnight, Tink."

I closed the door as he broke out in a Salt-n-Pepa song. "You're living in the wrong decade, Tink!" I yelled through the door then giggled when it sounded like he kicked it and went into a fit of curse words.

After getting ready for bed, it took a while for me to get to the point where I could doze off, and when I finally did sleep, I dreamed I wasn't alone in the bed, that there was a hard male body pressing against the length of mine. Hands were everywhere, touching me softly, caressing me in places that were far too intimate, and in ways that I had little experience with. I heard my name, the voice sounding familiar, and I thought I caught a glimpse of deep brown waves, but I couldn't be sure, and I was too lost in the dream to really pay attention or care. My lips were kissed. My body was kissed in the way I was touched, and I could feel silky hair between my fingers as I grasped his head, holding him to me, guiding his mouth to where I wanted—

I woke suddenly, thrust out of the dream and into the real world. An empty bed. No hands or mouth doing decadent and delightfully naughty things. No soft hair gliding between my fingers. I was alone as I stared up at the ceiling, seeing the thin slivers of dawn sneaking through the small gap in the curtains, but my body hadn't recognized that. I felt feverish. Sheets were twisted around my waist. My breasts felt heavy and the tips hard, sensitive against the thin cotton of my shirt. Between my thighs, I ached in a way that felt entirely unfair, and dimly I realized I hadn't been this aroused since Shaun.

Honestly, I didn't think I was ever this turned on by anything we'd done. Not that there had been anything wrong between us, but we were young when we took our childhood friendship and turned it into something more. We fooled around a lot in the first two years, but he . . . Shaun had been a good guy, and he respected Holly and Adrian to the point where I was the one to push the issue. It wasn't until we were eighteen when we had sex, and that was only once. It was good and nice, sweet and awkward in all the ways first times could be when you were with someone who cared so strongly about you. I imagined if we'd been given more time, it would feel like this—like my body was aflame and I'd go crazy if I didn't find release.

I slipped my right hand under the sheets, hesitating as my fingers brushed the band on my shorts. I hadn't done anything since Shaun, not even this. I hadn't been enticed to do it, and on the rare occasion when I wanted to, it hadn't felt right. Like I was betraying Shaun somehow, and I realized how dumb that was. But grief twisted things. I knew that.

I bit my lip then let it pop out. Drawing in a shallow breath, I slipped my hand under the band. My stomach fluttered, softly at first, and then deeper. I closed my eyes as I extended my arm.