Luca is busy talking with the sales lady by the dressing room. “Come on, what are you waiting for?”
Hurrying to his side, I jump into the dressing room and slide the drape closed. I pray Venom is long past this boutique when I come out. Taking longer than necessary, I slowly change into the dress.
Luca slides the drape aside enough to peek in and hands me a pair of strappy heels. “Take off those damn boots and put these on.”
I try to peer around him to see if certain someones are lurking, but I can’t see anyone past Luca’s tall frame without looking like a completely crazy person. I pull the drape closed.It’s hard to think about anything else with them here. Don’t they have better things to do than wander the mall?
Finally, I tell Luca I’m done. He pushes the curtain to the side. His mouth drops open. “Kins, baby, you just turned me into a straight boy.”
I laugh. He takes my hand and gently coaxes me out of the small, enclosed space into the open where everyone in the store can see. Turning, I face the mirror. The black, beaded halter top leaves a couple of inches of bare skin to the skirt's waistband. Aside from a three-inch band just above my waist, my entire back is exposed. The sheer layered skirt is short in the front, resting above my mid-thigh, then gradually gets longer until the back rests just short of the floor with the three-inch heels.I touch my scar hidden beneath the fabric and sigh in relief that it can’t be seen.
My best friend comes up behind me, taking my hair and piling it into a messy bun on my head. He pulls some strands out, letting them fall around my face. “Now imagine a painted lace mask, lower on one side than the other, dusted with blue glitter to bring out your gorgeous eyes. We’ll incorporate your eyebrow piercings…” He draws the imaginary mask on my face as he explains his plans for the intricate design.
When I look up and see Edge staring back at me in the mirror, Luca’s words fade into a string of distant, incoherent chatter.
Luca snaps his fingers next to my head, jerking me out of my trance. “Kins, are you listening to me?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m listening.”
“You know that I know when you’re lying… right?” He follows where my attention has strayed and stiffens behind me. “Please tell me he’s gay,” he whispers, still loud enough for anyone around us to hear.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so,” I rasp. My voice doesn’t sound like my own.
Luca shifts to the side as Edge closes the distance between us. The others in the dressing area have all gone quiet. I don’t have to look around to know they’re staring at the man behind me. He’s quite something to take in.
Edge reaches for my hand and wordlessly pulls me away from the small group of other customers trying on clothes. He still doesn’t say anything when he glances over his shoulder at me. The look in his eyes is unreadable. Disapproval, distrust, lust, a combination of all three. He stops in between the displays of clothing and turns.
There’s a small effort on my part that fights against him as he pulls me to him. It’s not enough to make any difference. Before I know it, my body is flush against his, my breasts pressed against his chest. He takes notice of where our bodies are touching, his gaze lingering on the swell of my breasts. A deep, hungry growl crawls up his throat. He swallows it down and slowly raises his eyes to meet mine. For a long moment, he just studies my face. I find myself lost in the storm of his gray eyes, riding the waves of a tsunami brewing in his mysterious gaze.
He skates his fingertips up my arm. Chills follow in the wake of his feather-like touch. I close my eyes and let my head fall forward from the sweet, torturous sensation. As if tracing the roads on a map, he makes a trail with the tip of his finger over my shoulder, up the side of my neck, over the curve of my jaw, and pauses just under my chin. He tilts my face up. I open my eyes and am swept away again by the searing heat in his untamed eyes. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
He pinches strands of my hair between his thumb and finger, then slides them down until he’s close to the ends. Then he curls them around his finger. With gentle force, he pulls the wrapped curl. My head follows the movement, exposing the side of myneck. He bends down and inhales. The rest of the world falls away as his lips brush against my ear, sending shivers of blazing heat over my skin. My breath catches, and I don’t dare breathe.
“One day soon, I’m going to fuck you with that dress on.” His voice is loud enough for only me to hear. It’s desperate and raw, tender and dangerous. Already, I’m replaying his promise in my head. Fluttering sensations settle low in my belly, andmoisture settles between my legs.
His mouth glides along my jawline until our lips are almost touching. I wet my dry lips. His mouth skims over mine. Still holding my hand, he tightens his grip. I don’t know if he’s aware or not. I, on the other hand, am aware of every one of my nerve endings that ache for more of his touch.
He releases my hand and slides it along the bare skin of my waist until it settles on my lower back. “I’m going to assume sweet and gentle is not the way you want it.” He jerks his hand, pulling my hair, which is still wrapped around his finger, to make his point. “Is it?”
I whimper in response. The fact that he knows me in this way is as disturbing as it is arousing. I hate myself for reacting to him, his touch, his words, like I’m a lovesick girl. It’s the last thing I am, but fuck, if it doesn’t take effort not to collapse against him.
“No,” I whisper.
He lightly kisses the hollow space between my shoulder and neck. Slowly moving his mouth to my ear, he plants a soft kiss just beneath it. His hand squeezes my waist. To anyone looking on, we appear to be a couple, or at the very least, we seem to like each other. And he’s telling me a secret. For me, though, he’s too close, dangerously close. A threat of the worst kind. Skillfully seductive. I still don’t know what his motives are, but he’s found a way to infiltrate all of my boundaries and take control of my body before I can escape.
His lips brush the shell of my ear with each word he whispers. “The next time you touch yourself, I want you to imagine my tongue trailing up the inside of your thigh to your throbbing clit.”
He kisses my neck. I’m frozen in his embrace and his taunting words. My lips are the only thing to move, parting as I visualize the seductive image. As if making good on his promise, his lips part against my neck, and his teeth graze the tender flesh, nipping, then stop just short of piercing the skin.
I jerk at the sudden ignited pain. He holds me tight against him as his tongue soothes the bite. Shivers of need course through my body. My breaths quicken into shallow gasps. I swear I can feel him between my legs.
“As you’re rubbing your clit and pushing your fingers deeper into your wet pussy, imagine it’s my tongue sliding through your slick folds and my fingers curling up into that sweet spot until you’re coming harder than you ever have in your life.”
It’s with those final words that my knees weaken, and his grip on me tightens, holding me upright.
“That’s right, hold on, Ninja baby.” He takes my lower lip between his teeth, biting it hard enough to create delicious pain throughout my entire body. Then, achingly slow, he glides his tongue along the tender flesh. “What I wouldn’t give to slide my fingers inside of you right now to see how wet you are for me.” He places a delicate kiss on my swollen lips. “I would bet my life that you’re fucking drenched.”
Holy fucking hell.
