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Torn (A Wicked Trilogy Book 2)

Page 4

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  I kissed him, sliding back on track. Shifting slightly, I spread my legs and reached further down, wrapping my hand around him. He made that incredibly sexy sound again, the deep rumble that never failed to make me hot. His finger slipped through the wetness gathering and my entire body jolted.

  “I haven’t forgotten how much you like that, but damn if it doesn’t feel like the first time.” He slid that finger almost all the way out and then thrust it back in, causing my back to arch.

  We’d done this before. Once. Not in bed, though, but on the couch at his place. The second time we’d actually had sex, so I wasn’t counting that. So this was kind of like the first time.

  I started moving my hand, remembering the way he seemed to like it, and I guessed I was doing it right, because his back bowed and his finger started moving faster in me. He lifted himself up, somehow managing to push down his briefs while not even taking his hand away, and that took amazing talent. Our breaths mingled as the bedspread tangled around our legs. I wanted him in me, thick and hard and wonderful, but we weren’t going to make it that far. Oh no.

  He added another finger, and I cried out. My senses twisted with each hot dip of his fingers. “Fuck, Ivy, I. . . .”

  I could feel him swelling in my hand, and I all but face planted into his chest when the orgasm hit me. I came, my hips riding his hand as I moaned against his skin. He came in my hand, his cock swelling and then jerking. My name was a heated curse on his lips.

  “Christ,” he grunted after several moments. “I can’t even . . .”

  “Me neither,” I murmured, easing my hand away. A part of him was left behind, on me, and I didn’t even care. Sweet aftershocks still rocked my body.

  A sexy chuckle radiated out from him as he slipped his hand away from me. I immediately missed it and wondered how inappropriate it would be to keep it there for, like, forever. “I can’t believe I came that fast,” he said. He lifted his chin and kissed the corner of my lip. “You got a magic hand.”

  I laughed at the absurdity of the statement. “I always wanted to excel at something. Who knew it would be hand jobs?”

  “I’m a lucky man.” He rolled away and stood. “Be right back,” he said, and a second later, the light from the bathroom came on. He grabbed a towel and turned the tap water on while I glanced at the clock he’d been blocking. It was a little after three in the morning. The light turned off and Ren returned. He sat on the bed. “Give me your hand,” he said.

  Doing as he ordered, I smiled as he moved the warm, damp towel over my hand. In those quiet moments, those three little words bubbled up, but I kept quiet.

  Ren disappeared again and returned quickly. This time he rolled onto his side and tugged an arm around my waist, pulling me down so I was nestled against him.

  “How’s your ribs?” he asked once he appeared satisfied with where he had me.

  “Fine. They barely ached all day.”

  “You telling the truth?”

  I grinned as I wiggled in closer to him. “Yes.”

  “Hmm.” He fisted the front of my shirt. “I just realized I didn’t even make it to your breasts. That’s like a huge sex fail. Those beautiful babies most definitely feel abandoned.”

  Giggling, I folded my hand over his. “It’s okay. You can make up for it next time.”

  “Oh, you better believe I will. I’m going to shower them with so much attention I might have to name them and take them out to dinner.”

  I laughed outright at that. “How was work?”

  “Boring as being forced to sit through New Moon repeatedly,” he replied.

  “You better not let Tink hear you say that,” I warned. “Or he’ll find new ways to torture you with how he’s convinced Jacob and Edward should’ve gotten together. He’s into something called slash fiction now.”

  “You know,” he said slowly, “I’m not even going to touch that with a twenty-foot pole.”

  “I wouldn’t.” I paused, closing my eyes. “So, no fae? Nothing?”

  “Not a damn thing.”

  I traced the outlines of his knuckles. “That is so freaking bizarre.”

  “Yep.”

  A couple moments passed while I thought about what I wanted to do tomorrow. “So I was thinking . . .”

  “That’s what I smell.”

  “Geez.” I rolled my eyes. “You and Tink have more in common than you want to admit.”

  “I might have to kick you out of the bed for that.”

  I snorted. “Um, yeah, you can’t kick me out of my own bed. Sorry.”

  “Whatever,” he replied. “What were you thinking about?”

  I drew in a deep breath. “I was going to go out tomorrow—not to work. Just to get back out there.”

  “Sounds good. I got the evening shift again.” His hand flattened against my belly. “You can come out with me.”

  I opened my eyes and winced. “I kind of wanted to just go out and do my own thing.”

  “Why?”

  My wince turned into a frown. “Does there need to be a why?”

  “Yeah, I like to think so.”

  I stopped tracing his knuckles. “I just want to get back out there. It’s not a big deal.”

  “And you have to do that alone?” he queried softly.

  “Well, yeah. I kind of want to do it alone.” I flipped onto my back. “It’s nothing personal. I just—”

  “I know, Ivy,” he said with a sigh. “You’ve got to prove you’re still the badass that you are. You don’t want a babysitter or a guard.”

  My brows inched up my forehead. “Why would I need either of those two things even if I weren’t a badass? No one has seen a fae in days.”

  “Has nothing to do with the fae,” he replied. “You need a damn babysitter because you want to get out there and find Valerie.”

  Chapter Four

  Oh shit.

  “Yeah, you think I don’t know you that well, do you?” he stated.

  I laughed dryly and muttered, “You don’t.”

  Ren stiffened. “What the hell?” He lifted his hand and I felt the bed shift as he rose up onto his elbow. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  I screwed my eyes shut. Okay. I probably shouldn’t have said that for a ton of obvious reasons. “I’m sorry. “

  “You really don’t sound like you mean that.”

  I shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. Frustration rose, and I knew I was the one who was in the wrong. Not him. He was right about the Val thing, but there was no way I’d find her with him tagging along. For some reason, and maybe it was a dumb reason, I felt like if I could find Val by myself, she wouldn’t run from me.

  There was also the whole finding Val’s parents thing. Ren wouldn’t and shouldn’t be along for that ride.

  Ren exhaled heavily. “I know you need to find her. She was your closest friend, but she betrayed the Order and you. She nearly got you killed. No matter what questions you have for her or how she answers them, it’s not going to change what happened.”

  I pressed my lips together.

  “And if you find her, you might actually find fae,” he added.

  “Well, that would suck, but . . . if I do find fae, I know how to do my job, Ren.”

  “I’m not saying that you don’t know how to do your job.” He leaned over, switching on the nightstand lamp. “But I am going to be really honest with you.”

  My gaze flicked over to him. Dammit, why did he have to be so hot, because it was really hard to be irritated with him when I wanted to kiss him. “Of course you are,” I muttered.

  He ignored that. “You are strong and brave, but you were seriously injured a week ago—”

  “A week and three days ago,” I corrected him.

  Ren eyed me. “Do those three days really make a difference?”

  “Yes,” I snapped. “Look, it’s late. You just got off in more than one way—”

  “So did you,” he reminded me.

  I shot him a
look. “Can you turn off the light so we can go to bed?”

  “No.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Ren . . .”

  His green eyes met mine. “You’re not ready to be back out there.”

  “Oh, so you’re a doctor now?”

  “You almost died, Ivy.”

  A slice of bitter panic lit up my chest. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Obviously you need one, so could you try to use some common sense and just say yes, Ren, I’ll be happy to join you tomorrow night?”

  I wanted to say that. I also wanted to say a lot of other things. I chose to say none of it. “I don’t need your permission. You do realize that, right?”

  Ren shoved his hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to be an ass.”

  “Well, you should try harder, then.”

  He stared at me, and I could tell there was a lot he wanted to say, but like me, he kept that pretty mouth of his shut for a moment. “Whatever.” He turned and switched off the light.

  “Finally,” I muttered, flipping onto my side and giving him my back.

  He ignored that as he shifted back down onto his side. A moment passed, and then I felt his arm around my waist. He dragged me back against his chest. “Just think about what I said, okay?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “Ivy?”

  “Okay,” I whispered, lying, because I’d already made up my mind even though I felt terrible about it.

  ~

  I was walking out of the bedroom Sunday morning when there was a knock on the door. A shadow moved past the window near the porch, heading down the steps. I immediately had a sinking suspicion of what it was, and glanced down the short hallway toward the kitchen.

  Ren easily stepped around me. “I’ll get it.”

  “You know, I can do that.”

  He kept going. “I’m just being a gentleman.”

  “More like he’s being an overprotective bully,” Tink commented from where he suddenly appeared in the hallway. “I was hoping you’d be gone by now. Alas, Queen Mab and your God both hate me.”

  I shot Tink a look that said shut up. Things had been a little tense between Ren and me this morning, and he was not helping.

  “You know, if you weren’t actually the size of an overgrown rodent, your opinion might actually matter.” Ren opened the door. “What the hell? They deliver on Sundays, too?”

  I peered over his shoulder and sighed. “Yep. Tink, it’s for you.”

  “Me? All for me?” Tink buzzed into the living room. As he got closer, I realized he was wearing an Elf on the Shelf sweater, and yeah, I wasn’t even going to question that. He bumped into Ren’s arm. “Excuse me.”

  Ren tipped his head up and stared at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. Tink screeched when he saw the packages—there were four of them. One large box and three smaller boxes. Knowing how Amazon packed their stuff, I figured there was either something ironically small in the big box or there were ten things shoved into it.

  “You going to stand there or actually be helpful?” Tink demanded. “Pick up the boxes for me?”

  “Tink,” I snapped.

  “If I pick up those boxes,” Ren said, “I’m pitching them into the courtyard.”

  Tink jerked back, smacking his hands against his cheeks. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I’d so dare.”

  “Oh Jesus,” I muttered, stepping around Ren. I picked up the boxes and carried them inside, dumping them on the couch.

  “Careful!” shrieked Tink. “There could be priceless, fragile items in there.” He spun in the air as Ren was closing the door behind him. “And you! You made a lady carry boxes inside.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Ren exhaled heavily. “God, you’re so annoying.”

  “So?” Tink hovered in front of the couch, his wings furiously beating the air. “I’m rubber and you’re glue!”

  Ren turned to face the little guy. “What?”

  “Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!”

  Ren stared at him and then slowly shook his head as he turned back to me. “It’s like living with a two-year-old with the mental capacity of a fifteen-year-old boy.”

  My lips twitched, and I turned to hide my grin. Ren didn’t stay long, and by the time afternoon rolled around, I was sitting in my chair in the bedroom, lacing up my boots. The apartment was oddly quiet. Tink was sulking in his bedroom, because he knew what I was about to do, or he was playing with the stuff that showed up today. Ren was still at his place, doing laundry or listing all the reasons why he wanted to strangle me or poison Tink, and then heading out to work.

  Which was why I was slipping a dagger into one boot and carefully hooking the thorn stake into the other. Getting back out there to do my duty wasn’t the only reason I wanted to return to work so quickly. Besides feeling like I was going to murder someone (most likely Tink) if I stayed in this apartment a minute longer, I also needed to find Valerie. It was Sunday, and while I doubted she’d stick to a normal routine, I knew what she typically did on Sunday evenings.

  There was a good chance that I’d run into Ren, but I’d cross that pissed-off bridge when I came to it.

  I stood up and straightened the loose gray shirt I wore. It was long, coming to my thighs, and it successfully hid the stake I had secured to my hip. I made a pit stop in the bathroom and leaned onto the sink, studying my face in the mirror.

  The bruises on my left side had faded dramatically, and the concealer had done wonders with covering what remained. A touch of lipstick camouflaged the mark on the center of my lip. Good chance that would be an actual scar.

  I left my hair down just in case people looked too closely and realized I was hiding a mess of a face. Maybe I shouldn’t care about that, but whatever. I wasn’t the best-looking thing out there, and I had no idea how I’d really snagged Ren’s attention, but I didn’t want to look like a walking accident victim.

  Then again, Ren was probably questioning his life choices at the moment. He hadn’t exactly been the happiest camper when he’d left this morning.

  I started to push away from the mirror but stopped. My eyes. They were blue. A very deep blue, like the color of the sky right before it gives way to dusk. I had no idea what the color of my parents’ eyes were or which one of my parents was a . . . fae, but all fae had blue eyes—pale eyes that were the color of glaciers. I was guessing all the creatures from the Otherworld had those kinds of eyes, because Tink also had them. Did my mortal parent’s genes deepen the eye color so they . . . looked normal?

  God.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. No matter what half of my blood said, I was still Ivy Morgan. For twenty-one years, I had operated like any other human being. Well, a human being warded at birth to see through the glamour of the fae, but whatever. I was still Ivy.

  With that thought in mind, I left the bathroom. Grabbing a lightweight purse with a shoulder strap that wouldn’t get in the way of things, I strolled out into the living room. I wasn’t a big handbag fan, but I’d found the black, fringed piece of awesomeness at a thrift shop off of Canal, and I’d used it before. I grabbed my book bag, digging out the thin wallet, and that went into the purse with my cellphone.

  “You’re insane,” Tink announced.

  I didn’t look to see where he was as I lifted the strap of my bag over my head, draping it across my body.

  “You shouldn’t go out,” he said, voice closer. I could hear his wings fluttering.

  “Am I supposed to stay in here forever, Tink?”

  “Yes. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Amazon does one-hour delivery now and you can get almost anything out of their pantry.” He was hovering by the window when I turned to him. His hands were folded together under his chin. “And you can use Man-Boy to get us beignets, since it’s the only thing he’s good at.”

  There were a lot of things Ren was good at, but I wasn’t going to spend the next hour arguing with Tink. “I’ll be back,” I said.

 
“You hope.” He followed me to the door. “Ivy—”

  “I’ll be careful.” I turned the knob and glanced over at the brownie. “I promise, Tink. I’ll be home in a little bit.”

  He opened his mouth, but I stepped outside and closed the door behind me. A second later, something smacked into it, and my brows rose. I doubted it was Tink. Probably something I didn’t want him throwing at the door.

  Shaking my head, I went down the staircase and out into the courtyard. The purple and blue periwinkles and bright pink hibiscus flowers were multiplying like rabbits along the stone walkway. Leafy green vines covered the fencing and the wrought-iron cornstalk gate. That stuff was going to take the whole place over, but I kind of liked it wild and out of control.

  The weather wasn’t unbearable, probably in the mid-seventies with the sun behind the clouds, but I fished out my sunglasses anyway and slipped them on. Walking down Coliseum Street felt a little weird. With every step I took, I expected the prince to pop out from a courtyard or from behind the heavy moss. It was ridiculous, this ball of nerves weighing in the center of my stomach, but I put one foot in front of the other as I headed toward Perrier.

  First things first. Find out where Val’s parents were and somehow, I didn’t quite know how yet . . . Wait. Change of plans. I needed to make a pit stop at Cafe Du Monde on Decatur. I needed a beignet—a fresh beignet. It had been forever since I had one that was still all warm and toasty, and hadn’t been brought home to cool off.

  I caught a cab, because there was no way I was waiting around for one of the damn trolleys, and rode over to Royal. I hopped out, making my way toward Decatur as I kept my eyes peeled for fae.

  It felt good to be out, to be walking, which was something I never thought I’d say, but being cooped up in the apartment had me yearning to just be out in the fresh air and get my muscles working.

  The streets were busy even for a late Sunday afternoon. Tourists were everywhere, snapping pictures of buildings. Drunken stumbling was at a minimum, but I knew in a couple of hours there’d be someone, most likely multiple someones, who would be sitting down on the narrow sidewalks because they simply couldn’t walk any longer.

 

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