Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(54)

That might be the first time he’s ever paid me a compliment.

“I’m sure it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.”

“I don’t want to handle it,” I snap. “I just want—”

He twists toward me, his eyebrows rising.

“I don’t know,” I finish lamely. My mind is a jumble. “I have to do this again tomorrow?”

“Maybe something more interesting will crop up.” He winks at me, then finally puts the car in drive.

We head in an unfamiliar direction. When he turns into a driveway and parks, I have no choice but to follow him up the front walkway.

“Whose house is this?”

“Eli’s,” he says. “He’s busy. But since you have an hour, I figured I could make your day a little better.”

The house feels oddly familiar. Like I came here in a dream.

We go into his living room, and Caleb throws himself onto the couch. He pats the space next to him. “Sit.”

“You just let yourself into his house?”

He nods. “Yeah. His parents are pretty cool. They travel a lot, though.”

“Gotta love absentee parents,” I answer.

His face shutters for a second.

“Why did you attack Ian?” I need to change the subject.

“Just protecting what’s mine.” His hand wraps around the back of my neck and pulls me to him.

Our lips touch softly at first, barely moving.

I open my eyes.

He’s watching me. His free hand sneaks up my shirt, dancing across my back. He unhooks my bra at the same time that he lowers me to the couch.

“Wha…”

“One choice,” he says, his lips moving to my jaw. He palms my breast. His fingers find my nipple, rolling it and pinching. “If you want this—if you want me—just say the word.”

One choice.

It’s not just one. It’s a series of choices that could lead to catastrophe…

Or happiness.

God, that seems like a possibility right now, with Caleb’s breath in my ear and his hands on my skin. He could play me like an instrument, make me sing. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. No one has ever bothered to try to touch me.

And then it comes back to me that we’re in his best friend’s living room.

I push his face away, staring up at him. “I do, but not here.”

He laughs, and the walls that he let down for a split second are resurrected. “If not here, where?”

If not now, when?

He picks himself up off me and leaves the room. My silence must’ve spoken for itself.

With shaky fingers, I reclasp my bra and straighten my shirt.

He comes back with his jacket on. There’s a new set to his jaw, and a smirk on his lips. “My place. If you don’t want to here... and you’re not going to tell me where, then I’ll choose.”

I shiver.

But I can’t say I’m against it.

The drive to his house is quick. It’s more silent than a graveyard in his house.

As we pass the front room, I point at the covered furniture. “Why is this place so…”

“Haunted?”

I run into Caleb. I hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking, and I almost fall backward.

He grips my upper arms, keeping me stable. “A lot of ghosts in this house, love.”

I meet his gaze.

“Let’s banish a few.” He leans down and kisses me.

It’s more ruthless than the kiss in Eli’s house. Something has shifted. He’s released the monster inside him.

I shudder at the infiltration. My heart cracks open as he backs me against the wall, taking my wrists and holding them above my head with one of his hands. His other continues his exploration of my body like we never stopped.

His tongue slides into my mouth.

I push his tongue out with my own. He tastes like honey and cinnamon. He growls, the sound resonating deep in his throat, and tears his lips from mine. He latches on to my neck, biting and sucking.

Electricity flows through me. I lift my leg, wrapping it around his hip and pulling him flush against me. “Caleb,” I moan, my head falling to the side to give him access.

He drops my wrists and unbuttons my shirt. I shrug it off, letting it drop, and he unhooks my bra again. His lips move down, off my neck. He draws one of my nipples into his mouth, teeth grazing it.

Stars burst in front of my eyelids. I wind my fingers through his hair, holding him to me as my whole body tenses. The pain feels good. He could do this to me for an eternity, and I don’t think I’d ever get sick of his touch.

He was made for me.

Pain and pleasure.

He carries me through the doorway and deeper into the house. I stare into his eyes, trying to memorize everything. I’m drunk on him.

He sets me on the counter in the kitchen, dragging my lips back to his before I can register where we are. He kisses me like he’s been starving and I’m his favorite dessert.

Completely.

Savagely.

He pushes my skirt up and tugs on my panties. I flinch at the sudden rip.

“Did you just—”

He raises my torn panties, winking at me.

“Caleb—”

“Don’t worry, love,” he says, “I have a feeling you’ll like what’s coming next.”