Daenerys Targaryen. The Mother of Dragons from Game of Thrones. It’s not my genre of choice, but I’ve been watching with Willow.
I glance to my girlfriend. Her smile has officially burst across her face. “It’s perfect,” she says softly. “I never thought I’d get to see Rose dressed up as Dany.” Before I can say anything, she leans a hip against the limo and angles to me. “Are you nervous about the party?”
“The Halloween party?” I ask. Lo gave us bare details. It’s in the Hamptons at some famous singer’s house. He annoyingly forgot the singer’s name. I know this is Willow’s first “adult” Halloween party that’ll include more than just chaste apple bobbing.
She nods.
“Not really,” I tell her. “Are you?”
“Yeah, it’s just…” She rubs her arm. “Their bodyguards aren’t allowed in the mansion, and what if something happens?”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” I say, and I don’t add that if anything does happen, it’ll probably be to the people more famous than us. That’ll just make her worry for Daisy. “What are you nervous about specifically, anyway?”
“People. Lots of people. Being touched or not knowing where to go. Getting lost…lots of things.”
Fuck. “I’m not going to let anyone touch you.” Even thinking about it is like drilling nails into my skull. Not happening. It’s not fucking happening.
Willow and Daisy are gone.
They left us for the bathroom, and everyone thought they were “taking way too fucking long” so we all went on a search and rescue party.
It failed.
No surprise there. I told everyone we should have just stayed at the same spot they left us. The velvet-lined coffin. The probability of them returning was a million times higher than us finding them in this maze.
But this is what happens when you have Ryke and Lo together. They freak the fuck out. I don’t have a sister, so maybe I’d be the same. I don’t know.
I am worried.
Just a different kind of worried. I keep checking the doorway every five-seconds. On edge. Waiting impatiently for Willow. Her words from before keep cycling through my head. Being touched. She’s scared about all the roaming hands and bodies, and it’d be impossible not to bump into people here.
Every room in this mansion is packed except for the kitchen. Maybe because it’s the least decorated area in the house. Just tiny candles set along the granite countertops.
Lo, Ryke, Rose, and Connor all congregate near the kitchen bar, agreeing to the “wait it out” method. Connor is closest to me, watching me type on my laptop that’s propped up on the stool.
He’s dressed in an almost identical costume as Ryke. Except it’s all white. White robe, white tunic, white pants. Like he’s some ethereal fucking immortal. If he wasn’t carrying the lightsaber, I’d just think Lo dressed him up as a god.
In reality, he’s Luke Skywalker.
And right now, Luke fucking Skywalker is hovering. When six-foot-four Connor Cobalt hovers, it feels like you’re under the shadow of the tallest high-rise. It’s an intense, uncomfortable place to be. I’m trying to just ignore him, but he keeps watching my computer screen as I type.
I check the doorway again.
This time Daisy and Willow walk through it. I intake a breath, and before I can get a good look at my girlfriend, Ryke rushes to Daisy, blocking my view.
“Where the fuck did you go pee?” Ryke asks. “We’ve been looking for you two everywhere.” He sets a hand on the top of Daisy’s head, his cane in his other one. After Ryke married Daisy in Peru, he had a bad rock-climbing fall, and he needed surgery on his leg.
I don’t even like to think about the climbing accident. I’ve had bad days—but almost losing Willow’s brother…yeah, that ranks up there.
“To the moon and back,” Daisy answers Ryke. He looks to Willow for a better answer.
“Just the first-floor bathroom. No one was by the coffin when we came back.”
“Told you,” I say to everyone. Immediately I regret it because I sound like a douchebag yelling out told ya so! I’m a dick.
“You’re either really embodying this whole devil thing,” Lo tells me, “or it’s just in your soul.” He’s not even looking at me. He’s raiding the house’s pantry with Lily hanging on his waist, trying to pull him away with as much effort as she can muster. It’s not much.
“Lo, you can’t,” she pleads.
Lo retrieves a box of Cheez-Its. “I can. Maybe they should’ve thought about snacks, huh?” He opens the brand-new box in front of her face.
Lily whispers, “Should we write an IOU?”
“Lil.” He pops one in his mouth. “Think of it as their birthday present to me.”
“It could be worse,” Connor tells her, but he’s still glancing at me and my computer. “He could have broken into the liquor cabinet and consumed a forty-thousand-dollar bottle of alcohol.”
Ryke adds, “And had a bunch of Ninja Turtles chase after you down the street.”
“See, love,” Lo says to her. “My worst is over.”
I almost snort. That shit actually happened to him? Jeez.
Lily smiles and holds out her hand. He pours Cheez-Its in her palm, his own smile spreading across his face.
Rose sips sparkling water and paces between the doorway, hawkeyed. She’s been like that since we arrived at the party, even more so since Daisy and Willow got lost.
Honestly, I’m used to Rose being in complete battle mode. She’s basically the Joan of Arc of the core six.
“No one fucking hit on you, did they?” Ryke asks Daisy. The sudden question slices my chest, and my focus zones in on Willow for a split-second.
She’s sliding closer to me, and when she gives me a look like I’m okay, I return my gaze back to the computer screen and try to relax. Willow doesn’t love attention drawn to her. Us being together and showing any kind of PDA is like a spotlight bearing down telling her brothers look here!
I’m trying my best to make sure that light isn’t so bright.
So I pretend that I’m so fucking interested in code that I don’t really notice her. But I slide my hand down her arm, her skin silky smooth, and my fingers lace firmly with hers.
I squeeze her hand, and I’m close enough to hear her breath shallow. Fuck that causes mine to shorten.
“I’m pregnant,” Daisy reminds Ryke in a tone that basically says, I couldn’t possibly be hit on.
“Yeah?” Ryke says. “Your sister thinks it wouldn’t fucking matter if you were pregnant or not.”
Willow clears her throat. “We were approached…Daisy handled it really fast though.”
My head whips towards Willow. “What?” My stomach tosses, and it feels like the floor caves underneath me.
Ryke’s jaw hardens. “What do you mean approached?”
Willow makes a soured face like she’s grossed out. Please tell me they didn’t…
Fuck. I can’t even think it, but I know I have to ask it.
“Did someone touch you?” I ask under my breath, hopefully soft enough that not a lot of them hear. Preferably no one but Willow.
“No, no, like I said, Daisy handled it really fast. It was just…weird, I guess. He was old.”
“Fucking fantastic,” Ryke mutters.
I’d like to say I’m relieved, but I’m not. I hate that Willow had to go through anything that made her uncomfortable. I hate I wasn’t there to at least call the guy a fucking creep or push him away.
“It does seem like there are more guys here than girls,” Lily says, munching on Cheez-Its. I did notice that, but it’s a statistic that I really don’t care to be reminded of.
Lo nods to Willow. “You want to leave now?”
She shakes her head vigorously. “No. It wasn’t that bad, honestly.”
I don’t know if she’s just trying to be nice and not ruin the night. Worry mounts, and I kiss her on the cheek. Hand to the back of her soft neck, my lips move to her ear, and I whisper
, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Tell me everything that happened later?”
She nods and I pull her against my side, tucking her to my body.
“How many steps are left?” Connor asks me.
I shake my head, not following, and then I remember he’s been watching me on my computer all night. I lick my lips and type one last line. “That’s it,” I say.
“That’s it?” Daisy says eagerly, edging closer. She glances at the screen, full of computer code. Her brows scrunch together.
“Whoever they had hacking into your accounts will be met with porn spam when they try again. I also increased all your security passwords, and I’ve written them down for you.” I dig into my pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a crumpled piece of paper. I hand the paper to Daisy. “I had to add a defense to all of your accounts, by the way. No one should be able to find your phone numbers unless you personally give it out.”
Daisy releases a giant breath in relief.
I motion to Lily. “And your passcodes took me thirty-seconds to hack.”
Lo gives her a look.
“Whaaa…” She crinkles her nose. “It’s not anything familiar to anyone, I promise.”
“It is though,” I say. “Your favorite movie is X-Men: First Class. You said it in an interview, which is public knowledge. You can’t use 2011xmen as your password—”
“Shhh!” she hushes me with bugged eyes and waves her hands like she’s swatting flies. “Someone’s going to overhear and get into my work email.”
Besides the eight of us, there’s no one in the kitchen.
“If you want, I’ll help you change it tonight.”
She nods repeatedly.
Connor closes his lightsaber and gestures from me to the laptop. “You taught yourself code?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Connor asks like he’s actually interested. But he can’t be. I’m me.
“I like it.” I shrug. “Code makes sense to me. Does there need to be another reason?”
Connor smiles. “There could be, but the reason you gave me is the best one.”
38 BACK THEN – October
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 19
I collapse on Willow’s bed, reeling from one weird-ass Halloween.
Willow places her halo headband on her dresser. “I still can’t believe what happened,” she breathes. “It’s almost out of the movies.”
Ryke and Lily disappeared from the group for a little bit, and when they came back, they were covered in white powder. Flour laced with cocaine. Apparently, a group of guys dressed as zombies flour-cocaine bombed them as they were leaving the bathroom.
“A movie we missed,” I tell her.
We didn’t see it happen.
She pauses. “Is it kind of bad that I wish it were filmed? Not just the flour-bomb. But the whole thing, I mean. And not for online or other people.” She strolls to the bed, still wearing angel wings. “It’s just, it’d be kind of nice to relive some of the good moments.”
I nod, agreeing. My lips lift at that last part. “Tonight was good?”
“Yeah…besides the cocaine,” she repeats. “And the emergency room.” We all took Ryke and Lily to the hospital, just to get checked out.
Lily broke out into a rash, and Ryke’s leg is bothering him. So they’re still being admitted overnight for observation.
“So like ninety-percent good?” I ask.
“Ninety-nine.” She smiles.
I don’t want to bring up the guy she ran into then. The one who was gross towards her and Daisy. If she’s not thinking about it, there’s no point in rehashing something that would drop the “good” percentage.
“Come here,” I say and lean forward, grabbing her wrist.
She slides onto the bed next to me. The house is empty. Everyone’s still at the ER, and I can’t remember who’s babysitting Maximoff and the Cobalt kids, but the important part is that they’re MIA.
Ever since our first kiss at Daisy’s birthday, she’s let me explore her body with my hands. But I’ve never touched her below the waistband of her panties or above the tops of her thighs. I’m careful to take things at her pace.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m dying a hundred deaths waiting. Every particle inside me wants to rush through. To caress each inch of her flesh, map out her freckles and study her body so I know it expertly.
But I won’t fuck everything up by pushing Willow too fast. I’ve fucked enough up in my life. I can’t fuck up this.
My lips meet hers, and I guide her back down onto the mattress. Her angel wings crumple a little beneath her.
I cup her cheek and edge her lips open. My body stirs to find pleasure points in both of us. But most of the time, I finish in the bathroom.
I’m fine with that.
I just wish I could make her come. She’s never had an orgasm in her life, other than from herself, and I, so fucking badly, want to give her that earth-shattering pleasure.
Her breath hitches as I suck on her bottom lip and then move to her neck. She’s soft and hesitant and always in her head. Her hands lie next to her, not on me, because they’re fisting her comforter tightly.
I suck harder on her neck, and her hips arc into me with need. I’m quick to rise on my knees, my bodyweight hoisting enough that she can’t feel my erection. I don’t want to pressure her into thinking she needs to get me off.
She doesn’t.
I’m a fucking adult.
I’ll be fine.
I barely pause, my hands sliding on top of her breasts. The fabric of her dress and bra soft under my palm. I knead her, and she lets out a raspy breath. I want to give her more.
And thank you V-cut dress for giving me easy access, so I graze my hand underneath her padded bra. Her nipple is already perked, and I continue massaging, my thumb brushing over the sensitive bud. Her breath staggers.
My dick throbs.
Hardening more.
With my other hand to her hips, I squeeze her flesh tightly. She squirms underneath me. Fuck, how wet is she? My head screams at me to check, to just slip my hand between her thighs and release these pent-up feelings that I can physically see coursing through her.
I clench my jaw, shutting down those thoughts.
“You okay?” I ask Willow in a whisper as my mouth glides to the other side of her neck. I press my fingers into the soft flesh of her ass, near the back of her thighs.
“Mmm,” she breathes out her nose, already sinking into those cravings. And then just as suddenly, she goes rigid. Her entire body locked.
I lift up on my hands, enough that I can look her in the eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my gaze dancing around her body for more signs of discomfort.
“Nothing,” she says so softly that I have to lean down a little to hear. “I just…I keep forgetting to touch you. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I get so lost in everything and—”
“You know where your hands are right now?” I ask her and look to her fingers, still tangled in the comforter.
“On the bed.”
She doesn’t get it, so I explain, “Willow, you’re death-gripping the sheets like my dick is already inside you. It’s fucking destroying me. In the best way.”
Her lips lift slowly. “Really?”
“Really.” Her shyness in bed is a literal turn-on. I never even predicated that.
She bites the bottom of her lip. “Should we get undressed?”
“It’s up to you.”
Her gaze flits to the top of my head, where my devil-horned headband pushes my thick hair back, keeping strands from falling into my eyes. “I like this.” She touches a horn.
“Yeah?”
She nods, and then swallows hard. “We can stay dressed, if that’s okay with you?”
“I’m good with that.” Honestly, a little relieved too. My brothers came home from college to celebrate my dad’s birthday last weekend. I’m still a little bruised and
sore from their “brotherly roughhousing.” Hunter elbowed me in the back when I tried to bail on dishwashing duty. I can still taste the bar of soap he shoved in my mouth.
I just don’t want Willow to worry. I’ll tell her about it another night.
She’s quiet, still staring up at the devil horns on my head. I think she might be overthinking something else. So I just ask, “You okay?”
“Um…so I’m not ready to have sex,” she whispers. “But I think I could do more tonight.”
More.
Fuck. My muscles tense, head spinning. “Do you want me to make you come?”
She smiles. Like a fucking hundred-watt smile, brightening the whole room. “Yeah, I want that.”
Fuck. Yes.
I roll onto my side, elbow propped up on the pillow and hand supporting my head. Willow moves like she’s about to roll onto her side to face me. I press a hand to her belly. “Stay on your back,” I tell her.
She relaxes where she is, but she turns her head to face me. I’ve come to know a lot about her. She likes instructions. It takes this immense pressure off her from feeling like she has to already know what to do.
“Can I touch your clit?” I ask her.
“Mmmhmm,” she says, breathing through her nose again.
I smile and place a soft kiss on her lips. “That a yes?” I whisper against her mouth.
“Yes,” she squeaks.
I pull back to stare at her beautiful brown eyes again. “Can I put my fingers inside you?”
She pauses, hesitates, and I sweep her frame, gauging her reaction.
“Um…”
“That’s fine,” I tell her. “I don’t need to be inside you to make you come.”
Her mouth parts in arousal. “You can put them in me though,” she says quickly. “I was just thinking that it might hurt. I’ve only ever had one inside.”
One finger.
Fucking hell.
Blood rushes to my dick, begging me to ease into her. I grind down on teeth and bottle those urges. My hard-on strains against the fabric of my red pants, and I swallow down images of Willow fingering herself, which have definitely stormed my brain.
Wherever You Are (Bad Reputation Duet Book 2) Page 31