He rolls his eyes as if I just did something intensely sexual. “Yer givin’ me sexy schoolteacher vibes. I can just imagine yeh sayin’, ‘to me office, Mister Zefferus. I’ll deal with yeh after class.’”
I level him with the rudest expression I can summon. “It’s a violation of hisprivacy, Mister Zefferus.”
“Oh fook,” he groans, grabbing at his crotch. “I just came in me pants a little, Louanna. Say it again. Anyhow,” he grins, “are yeh jealous?”
I narrow my eyes and shake my head, despite the fact that he’s partially right. We’ve never talked about how he floats outside my window at night and stares. Well, I’m pretty sure hedoes. It’s always windier outside my window than anywhere else, and somehow, I sense it’s probably him. Honestly, if anybody else did it, I’d find it creepy. But, with Dirk, it makes sense to me. It feels safe even though he’s a stalker. Is there such a thing as cozy stalking? Because that’s what he does.
The idea of him floating outside Connall’s window doing the same thing makes me want to flip tables. Or join him. Gods, I’m not sure.
“What do you think about what I shared?” Dirk questions me softly.
What do I think? I think Iknewbut hadn’t absorbed how serious he was. And now? I’m not sure what to do next. I’m saved from answering by faint footsteps that reach us from down below. Dirk lifts a finger to his mouth, indicating I should be silent. I shake my head, but he grabs me and pulls me carefully to the edge of the roof. Gods, this is bad.
We’re spying on a nice guy. Areallynice guy I sometimes think about when I’m alone in my room. Does Dirk stick around long enough to be aware of that?
Steady breathing drifts up, and despite what I told myself, I creep to the edge of the roof and lie flat next to Dirk. He glances at me with a saucy grin, then points toward the forest.
Every bit of breath in my body leaves on a whoosh as a shirtless Connall comes jogging up a path through the forest. His tee is tucked into one of his belt loops, his jeans doing nothing to hide enormous, muscular thighs. He must have a solid fifty or sixty pounds on Dirk. He’s thickly built and covered chest to belt with wolfish tattoos.
They still don’t hide the dips and valleys of every ab, or the puffy, thick pecs coated in auburn hair. His eyes, luminescent green, cut left and right as he scans for anything amiss.
Guilt hits me like a Mack truck. He was Leighton’s friend. I killed Leighton. And now I’m Peeping Tom’ing like a real bitch.
But then he pauses and reaches down the front of his pants, adjusting a large bulge.
“He runs and gets hard,” Dirk whispers. “And then he goes to that glade and fucks his hands, Louanna. Shall we watch?”
This has gone too far. It’s too much. I force my gaze from Connall as he disappears up the path toward the glade.
“We should go. This isn’t right. And the fact that you spy on him like you do me? So rude. No points in the ‘should I go out with Dirk’ category. You’re in the red, Mister Zefferus.”
But instead of even acting remotely concerned by my statement, his grin broadens. He rests his head against three fingers, beaming at me like the cat that got the cream. “Wanna know a secret, Louanna?”
Fuck. Do I? How many does he have? Because everything about Dirk screams secrets and layers. He’s the embodiment of the ogre onion explanation fromShrek.
I scowl back at him. “Does it explain why you think it’s okay to be a Peeping Tom?”
He shrugs as best he can with his head in one hand. “Don’t know what the fook that is, Louanna. Must be a human thing. But I’m gonna let yeh in on my secret, my sweet. I spy on you because you’re mine.” His grin grows absolutely feral. “And I spy on him—because he’sours.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
DIRK
The color drains from Louanna’s face, her mouth dropped open to form a perfect, delicate O. “You must be shitting me. Are you for real?”
I play with the end of her long braid, smiling. I know this is a shock for her. And I’ve seen her stare at Connall. She wants him. As she should.
“Serious as a fookin’ heart attack, my love.”
“I’m not your love,” she grumbles.
Well, I cannae have that, so I grab her hand and shove it against my chest, above my gem nestled between my pecs. My power streaks across my skin to gather under her palm, sparking and flashing as it connects with her.
“If you were anyone butmywoman, this would shock the shit outta yeh, Louanna, as I’ve said. It doesn’t shock Connall either.”
Her fingers curl against my skin as her amber eyes land on mine. “You’ve touched him?”
I grin. “What do yeh think about that, my sweet? Me touching him. Him touching me. Both of us touching yer beautiful self.”
