All Souls' Night - Renee Rose Page 0,164

experienced, more everything.

“I already have it. I usually get exactly what I want.” He looks at me, his smile fading to something more serious. Stern. Commanding.

My breath hitches again, because I’m remembering everything I promised him, all the dirty things I want him to do.

“Okay.” My voice is small, but firm. “Well, I plan to get exactly what I want, too.” Maybe he’s more seasoned than I am, but fuck—I’m not one to back down from a challenge. And tonight was something I’ve dreamt about for a long time.

“Then things will work out quite well.” He smirks.

A car turns down the street and glides to a stop in front of us. “Take care, Temi.”

“You too.”

He gives me a firm kiss on the lips and arranges me in the car. “Good night.”

As the sedan drives through the night streets, I shift on the seat and watch the lights of the city. Images jumble together in my mind: Locke’s hand on my pussy, his enigmatic smile, his commanding tone. The way he caught my iPod the other day, so deft, like magic. His eyes.

The Britney song plays in my head, the one he commented on, but this time I change the lyrics to match my night. “Bite me baby, one more time.”

I touch the spot on my neck that still throbs, pulses with hints of pleasure. He said he drew blood, but it didn’t even hurt much at all. It was more of an immense burst of pleasure that connected to my clit and my entire nervous system. And I want him to do it again, so much that I’m almost ready to tell the driver to turn around, take me back to Locke.

I laugh to myself and shake my head. What the hell am I doing? This is so wrong.

But I don’t care.

And as I enter the quiet house, moving softly so I don’t wake Abuela, I know that I’m going to dream about Locke all night. Every night. Until I can see him and touch him again. One more time.

Chapter 5

“Temi, can you reach this for me?” Abuela’s voice is thinner than usual. She’s breathing hard as she reaches up to the top shelf in the pantry next to the stove.

I hurry over, concern pricking the edges of my imagination. “What is it?” I peer up into the shelf. “I’m barely taller than you are. I’ll get the ladder.”

It’s a day after my adventure with Locke in the gallery, and I’m in the middle of an assignment for class before I head off for a few hours at the warehouse. But there’s always time to help Abuela.

When I come back with the stepladder and set it up, she nods. “The box at the back, behind the cans of tomato sauce.”

“There’s nothing behind the cans. Just the back of the shelf.”

She smiles a little. “Pull the cans forward and use your fingernails to slide the back of the cupboard out. It’s a secret door.”

“For real?” I turn to look at her, ready to laugh.

But she’s serious. “Yes, Temi. I haven’t opened it in years. You do it for me.”

“I just pull? Where do I do it?” I slide my fingernails gently up and down the side of the board. “It all seems pretty solid—oh.”

I find a slight indentation, and tug. The wood creaks and pulls out on hidden hinges, a tiny back door. “Oh my God! It really is a secret door, isn’t it? How long has this been here?” I pull cans forward and stack them atop each other precariously, so I don’t knock them out of the cabinet by opening this little door. “Wow.”

“Get what’s inside for me, please.”

I reach back. “This? The oatmeal cannister?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Okay.” It’s dusty and old—I don’t think we’ve used it in a decade, but Abuela saves dry goods forever. She says the expiration dates are nonsense if you keep food dry and free from insects. Of course, nobody would have found it hidden behind that little extra strip of wood.

She holds out her hand. “Thank you, mija.”

I push the stepstool to the corner and sit down at the kitchen table beside her. The yellow light overhead makes her face look sallow, and I think she seems more tired than usual.

I touch her hand, confused. “You want me to fix some cereal for you?”

She laughs, more animated now. “No, mija.” She pulls off the plastic lid. “This is something else.”

I look into the can, and my eyes widen. There’s a fat wad of folded