Wicked Princess - Ashley Jade Page 0,37
that sends tingles across my skin.
I open my mouth, silently pleading for more, but he doesn’t give it to me.
He continues kissing me like I’m the most delicate, fragile thing he’s ever held in his arms.
It’s how I know he won’t hurt me.
That I’m safe with him.
I moan when finally—finally—his tongue enters my mouth.
I’m so into what’s happening between us, I barely hear the knock on the door.
“Stone, I’m home,” a woman’s voice calls out.
I pull away. “Who is that?”
“My roommate.”
He never mentioned anything about having a roommate before. Let alone a female roommate.
My jealousy must be evident because he laughs and says, “You should see your face right now.” Leaning in, he adds, “Don’t worry. She’s also the woman who birthed and raised me.”
“Crap.” I bolt upright because making out with her son on his bed in the dark isn’t the first impression I want his mother to have of me.
“Relax. My mom’s cool.” Getting off the bed, he heads for the door. “I’m gonna go say hi. You can come meet her if you want.”
A surge of nerves hit me. “I’m good right here.”
“Suit yourself.”
The moment he leaves, I regret my decision.
If I want to get to know Stone more, a good place to start would be introducing myself to his family members.
Well, the family members of his I can stomach.
Pulling myself together, I hobble out of his bedroom and make my way to the kitchen.
Where I find Stone helping his mom put away groceries.
Be still my beating heart.
“Hi,” I say nervously.
Startled, the tiny woman turns around. She’s all of five feet tall with pin-straight, sleek dark hair, and beautiful dark eyes. Her skin is flawless, and her features are delicate.
I can see where Stone gets his good looks from because she’s absolutely beautiful.
She’s also very quiet.
Blinking, she looks at Stone.
“This is Bianca,” he explains. “She’s the girl I’ve been telling you about.”
The fact that he talks to his mom about me is…whoa.
His mother’s gaze flicks my way briefly before returning to her groceries.
Somehow, I feel like she chewed me up and spit me out in a single dismissive glance.
What the hell did Stone tell her?
Wanting her to like me, I try again. “Is there anything you need help with? Anything I can do?”
She shakes her head. “No thank you.”
So much for that.
Stone walks over and squeezes my shoulder. “Relax.”
That’s easy for him to say. His mother already likes him.
I’m contemplating what to do next when my phone vibrates with an incoming text.
Sawyer: I’m outside.
I peer up at Stone. “Sawyer’s here.”
He looks about as disappointed as I feel. “I’ll walk you out.”
I give his mom a smile. “It was nice to meet you.”
She says nothing.
Awesome.
“I’m pretty sure your mom hates me,” I tell him as we walk down the stairs.
He doesn’t seem too concerned about it.
“She’s my mom,” he says as we reach the bottom. “Therefore, she automatically hates any female her son brings home.”
Well, that’s reassuring. “Great.”
I’m about to walk out to the parking lot, but he halts me. “If you stick around, I know she’ll like you as much as I do.” His face screws up. “Well, maybe not as much as I do because that would be weird.”
A laugh escapes me until I replay what he said. “If I stick around? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Digging his hands in his pockets, he looks away. “You know exactly what it means, Bianca.”
“No, I don’t.”
I’m gonna need him to clarify before I start thinking the worst.
He expels a heavy sigh. “I’m not like other guys. I have no interest in hitting it and quitting it or wasting my time on some chick who doesn’t deserve it.”
It’s hard not to be offended. “Do you think you’re wasting your time with me?”
“I don’t know.” The intensity in his eyes kicks up a notch. “You tell me.”
I give him the truth. “I like you Stone, but this conversation is confusing. What exactly is it that you want from me?”
I’m not sure how the old Bianca was with boys and relationships, but this Bianca definitely sucks at it.
“I don’t want to play games.” He inches closer. “If we’re gonna do this, then I want all of you.”
How can I possibly give someone all of me when I don’t even have all of me?
As if sensing my internal struggle, he says, “Forget it. It’s obvious you don’t want the same thing.”
“I do want you, Stone,” I whisper. “I’m just really bad at this stuff, you know?”
Reaching over, he strokes my cheek with