Wicked (A Wicked Saga, #1)(82)

After the movie was over, we ended up chatting through the credits, and another older eighties flick came on. It was late, well past three in the morning when Ren flicked his tired gaze to mine and sat forward, dropping his bare feet to the polished, cement floor.

"Ready for bed?"

My eyes opened wide.

"It's really late. I don't feel like going back out there, and I'm not cool with you doing it alone. I'm not suggesting anything. Just stay with me."

"Just stay with you?" I repeated. "In your bed?"

"It's a big bed. Like three people could sleep comfortably in there, even if you add a large dog at the foot of the bed." Smiling slightly, he patted my leg while I stared at him. "Come on."

Ren stood, picking up our empty drinks and taking them into the kitchen. Then he headed into the bedroom, holding the door for me.

One would think I didn't face cold-blooded killers all the time by how weak my knees felt when I stood. What was I doing? I decided I didn't know as I walked across his cool floor, my shoes and socks tucked against his couch.

Letting the door drift shut behind us, he crossed in front of me. Next to the bed, he flipped the lamp on. "I have a shirt if you want to change into it. Should work for you." He went to a dresser, pulling open the second drawer, and took out a dark shirt. He walked it over to where I hovered just inside the bedroom.

Amusement danced over his face as he placed the shirt in one hand and took the other, guiding me toward the bathroom. "You can get changed in there. Or out here. I would totally prefer it to be out here."

Snapping out of my frozen stupor, I pulled my hand free. "I'll get changed in there."

"Sad face," he murmured, and then louder, "I'll be waiting."

I shivered as I closed the door behind me and turned the light on. For a moment, I froze in the bathroom, my heart racing with . . . excitement. I hadn't slept with a guy since Shaun, with or without sex. I honestly had no idea what I was doing, but I stripped down to my bra and panties, and then quickly rinsed my face with a splash of cool water.

The last thing I wanted to do was sleep in a bra. Heck, I hated wearing a bra ninety percent of the time. I didn't have small breasts and they weren't huge, but they did like to jiggle when they had a taste of freedom. As I debated whether I should leave the bra on or not, I caught a glimpse of my ultra-bright blue eyes and flushed cheeks in the mirror. I closed my eyes, my fingers trembling as I reached behind me and unhooked the bra. The straps slipped down my arms, and I quickly grabbed the borrowed shirt, slipping it on over my head. It reached just below my thighs, and I'd definitely not be doing any jumping jacks anytime soon.

Before I left the bathroom, I snagged the bobby pins holding my hair up in a twist, and sighed the moment my hair was loose. Curls fell in every direction, and my scalp tingled with happiness. Gathering up my clothes, I opened the bathroom door and came to a complete stop.

Holy fae on fire, Ren was shirtless, standing with his back to me, and I got to see the rest of the tattoo.

He'd changed into loose cotton sleep pants that hung indecently low on his hips, and that was all. His muscled back was on display, and those vines from the front of his chest and arm crept over his shoulder, tangled down the right side of his back. In vivid detail, peering out from the vines was a black panther, its eyes the color of amber, and its mouth open, tongue a crimson red, sharp teeth a brilliant white

All I wanted to do was run over and touch it.

"I was starting to get worried about you in there." Putting the pillow in place, he turned around. "Thought I might . . ." He trailed off, lips parting.

Both of us were staring at each other, and I didn't know what he saw in my expression, but he was gazing back at me like he'd never seen me before. There was such concentrated intensity in his stare that it felt like a physical caress. The tips of my breasts hardened, straining against the shirt.

"God. Damn," he said, voice husky. "Wearing my shirt might not have been one of my brightest ideas."

"I'm . . . sorry?"

He ran his hand through his hair, the muscles in his arm and stomach doing amazing things as he clasped the back of his neck. "You were in a serious relationship before, right? The guy you lost?"

Not knowing how that had anything to do with his shirt, I nodded.

"You were really young," he said quietly. Ren moved toward me, much like I imagined the panther on his back would've if it was stalking prey. Stopping in front of me, he plucked up a curl that brushed my cheek. He tugged it straight as his gaze swept over my face. "It's a good thing—a powerful thing to see a female you like wearing your clothes. I'd forgotten that until now."

Heat traveled down my neck. "Oh."

"Yeah." Letting go of my hair, the curl bounced back into place. "I'm guessing you've never worn a guy's clothes before?"

I shook my head as my gaze dipped to his throat. The leather string of the necklace was entirely too tempting against his golden skin. "Shaun and I . . . we didn't get a chance to get to that point, I guess."

His head tilted to the side as he curved his hand around my cheek. "So that's his name. You've never said it before."

"I haven't?"

With a shake of his head, he trailed his thumb along my cheek. "You really haven't been with anyone since him?"