RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,48

I honestly don’t know how I’m going to react if he makes a move.

“Your heart’s racing, Stillwater,” he whispers. “I can see your pulse in the base of your throat. You want me.”

“I want you to leave me alone. I want you to stay away from my room.”

“Elodie.”

My voice is uneven and full of nerves. “I know you’re lying.”

Slowly, as if he’s got all the time in the world, Wren shakes his head. A droplet of water falls from the riot of curls that are hanging down into his face, and it lands right on my mouth. “I haven’t lied to you. I never will. I’ll give you all my dark, ugly truths, even though they’ll frighten you, Little E. I won’t hold back. You…” He dips his head, and I freeze beneath him. The air between us buzzes, brimming with a tension so sharp that it bites at my skin. Millimeter by millimeter he leans closer and flicks out the tip of his tongue, licking the water droplet from my lips. I close my eyes, my lungs seizing.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You are going to be mine, Elodie Stillwater. Of all my sins and misdeeds, making you fall in love with me will be the very worst of them all.”

11

WREN

FOUR DAYS LATER

I walked her back to the house.

Against my better judgement. Against every impulse roaring through my body, I walked her back to the house and I didn’t lay a finger on her. Thus far, the only part of my body that has been in contact with Elodie is my tongue, and that blissful moment when I dared to lick her delectable little mouth has sustained me through some highly frustrating, very long nights.

She hasn’t looked at me since. I’ve passed her in the hall. I’ve watched her in class. I’ve sat in the same room as her, buffeted by her tangible rage, and every second of it has been heaven. She hasn’t left Carina’s side. I know she’s making sure that we aren’t alone together, and this little game we’re playing has driven me to the point of insanity. I could have pulled her into a closet by now. I could have dragged her into the locker rooms, or cornered her in the cafeteria, or stalked her right into the girl’s bathrooms, but I’ve come to the glorious realization that this thing between us—this intoxicating anticipation that keeps me awake when I throw myself into bed at three in the morning—is so much more entertaining than trying to quicken the situation along.

She will come to me. She won’t be able to resist. It’s only a matter of time. And I have plenty of things to keep my mind occupied while I wait for her curiosity to get the better of her.

DAMIANA: Wen R U gonna give it up? U know we make sense. We’re cut from the same cloth. Why would U wanna settle for some prissy little prude wen U already know how good I taste?

Damiana tasted like desperation. It coated my tongue and left an oily residue in my mouth that three days’ worth of Listerine couldn’t budge. I thought about sterilizing my junk in bleach after I was dumb enough to fuck her, but I figured my dick had already suffered enough and settled with a scalding hot shower instead. A master craftsman should take better care of his tools.

I did complete a full profit and loss assessment the night I allowed Dami into the house and I screwed her over Pax’s poker table. At the time her neediness was something I deemed manageable, but that was after a bottle of vodka and two Percocet. It was also before I knew Elodie Stillwater even existed. And now I find the consequences of my little tryst with Wolf Hall’s resident viper were not worth the twenty-one minutes of bare flesh and porn star approved moaning that she offered in exchange for a ride on my cock.

ME: Let it go. Some mistakes aren’t destined to be repeated.

DAMIANA: MISTAKE? U weren’t calling it that when I swallowed ur cum, motherfucker.

I pocket my phone and jam it into my back pocket, growling out loud. Crazy bitch isn’t worth another megabyte of my data. I shouldn’t have replied in the first place, but I figured there was a chance she’d walk away and let this thing go gracefully. Girls like Damiana never know when to give up, though. They persist and they persist until they’ve thoroughly embarrassed themselves, and even then they