The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play Book 2)

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The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play Book 2) Page 9

by B. B. Reid


  “You’ll be naked, and I’ll see,” she squeaked, sounding just like a mouse. I bet if Lou were under the covers, she’d be clutching them under her chin as if she were the one naked.

  “Don’t you have curtains?”

  “What about when you undress? Or when you get out?” she interrogated.

  I didn’t answer her because I’d already lost my patience. Stalking across the room, I ignored her squeal as I bent low and tossed her ass over my shoulder. “Quiet.”

  She had no choice but to do as I said when I opened her bedroom door and stepped out into the empty hall. The house was small, and the walls were thin, so I usually waited until they’d all gone to sleep to sneak inside Lou’s bedroom, but after two weeks of being away, there was no way I could wait for night to fully fall.

  Creeping down the hall on silent feet, I didn’t dare take a breath. The Hendersons would be home any minute from work or Bible study or whatever the hell it was that kept them gone and out of my hair. I let out a deep exhale the moment we were safely shut inside the bathroom. I was more than eager for the day Lou would be on her own, and I could come and go as I pleased.

  Maybe I’d get us a place, and we could—

  I paused and blinked a couple of times wondering where the hell my head had gone just now.

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?” Lou questioned once I set her on the sink.

  “It’s a necessary evil.”

  “If you say so,” she muttered.

  I leaned over and locked the door before reaching behind my neck and gripping my T-shirt. It was gone a second later. Neither of us commented on the fact that I was still standing between her legs when I reached for my belt buckle.

  “I do.” I then toed off my shoes before shedding my jeans and boxers. I heard her gasp, but when I straightened once more, she had firmly fixed her gaze on the wall behind me. I chuckled.

  “You’re being cruel,” she said with a pout.

  “Am I? You can look if you want. I don’t mind.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want.”

  “Hm…I’ll try not to take offense.”

  Lou crossed her arms and lifted her nose in the air as if she didn’t care one way or the other. I padded over to the shower and ran the water before she could change her mind. I didn’t want to be caught red-handed with a hard-on.

  “Can you hurry up?” she griped.

  I peeked over my shoulder and found her bouncing her right leg. She was clearly agitated, which was only fair given my current state. “That wall isn’t nearly as interesting to stare at as my butt, is it?”

  Lou’s mouth tightened, and she shifted her gaze away even further. “It’s cold in here.”

  “I’ll warm you up.”

  No longer able to hide her interest, her head whipped around, and she stared at me in shock but didn’t dare let her gaze travel south. “What?”

  “I’ll warm you up,” I repeated. “The steam from the shower should kick in any minute now.” She was still gawking when I disappeared behind the shower curtain with a grin, and as usual, fucking with Lou after she challenged me was indeed the highlight of my day.

  I also lied about the steam because the water pelting my skin was icy cold, making me even more miserable, but at least it did the trick in cooling me the fuck down. For a while, I closed my eyes and just let the water wash over me, drenching my hair and my face.

  I didn’t realize how much time had passed until she said, “There’s no steam.”

  I smiled at the timidity in her tone, knowing she’d been tamed. At least for now. Lou had unintentionally wandered into territory she didn’t yet understand, and it made her nervous. Cautious.

  “Give it a few minutes.”

  “It’s been five,” she pointed out.

  My eyes popped open, and I silently cursed before hurriedly turning the knob. Immediately, the water began to warm, and after a couple of minutes, I heard Lou sigh as steam began to fill the small bathroom.

  “Better?” At least for one of us, it would be.

  “Yes, thank you,” she whispered, and then I heard her shift.

  Peeking through the sliver of the curtain that I’d carelessly left open, I saw that she was now straddling the corner of the counter giving me a view of her creamy thigh, softly sculpted calf, and one of her dainty-ass feet.

  I almost punched the tile when my cock slowly started to rise again.

  Fuuuuck!

  I grabbed my dick and squeezed. Normally, I wasn’t so hard up, but there hasn’t been anything normal about my actions since meeting Lou two years ago. I shut my eyes, but her leg—one I’d seen a million times before but never while my dick was in my hand—was already etched vividly in my memory.

  The simplest solution was the most obvious one, but I didn’t see anything simple about jerking off while my best friend, a girl I swore to protect from monsters like me, sat two feet away. And I wouldn’t just be beating my dick. I’d be getting off to thoughts of her, innocent little Lou.

  While my head fired warnings to turn back now, my cock had no such reservations about crossing this line.

  She’d never have to know.

  “Please hurry, Wren.”

  My grip on my cock tightened, and I groaned in agony even as my hand slowly began to move, giving her what she wanted. She had no idea what those words did to me. To us.

  Fuck it.

  Just from the few tugs, I already knew the pleasure would be worth all the loathing and shame I’d feel once I came so after pouring some of her body wash in my palm for lube, I closed my eyes and gave in.

  I was already damned, so what was one more offense? At least this time, I’d be getting something out it. No amount of money or power could hold a candle to the fantasy playing out in my head—Lou spread out before me, eager, wanting, and mine.

  I’d start with those adorable toes of her. Kissing and bathing every digit before I moved to her ankles, her legs, her thighs—massaging and caressing.

  In my fantasy, I left no part of her untouched because I knew I’d never get the chance again. The sounds I imagined she made as I worshiped her pushed me further toward the edge. Soft whimpers and wanton cries, or maybe she’d moan, and it’d be my name on her lips. My stomach clenched, and I groaned wanting it all. My strokes became jerkier, more desperate.

  I pictured her wearing that shirt and ripping it from her body, baring her breasts. I licked my lips as I imagined pulling her nipples into my mouth and sending her writhing beneath me for more.

  “Wren?”

  The sound of my name sounded so vivid and crisp. I squeezed my eyes tighter and felt myself grasping for something, but I didn’t know what.

  I was between Lou’s thighs now ready to drive inside and fuck us both to death when I said, “I know, baby. I’m coming.”

  The gasp she let free when I started to enter her sounded even more real. So real that I came that instant with a gasp of my own. Cum poured over my fist but was immediately washed away by the water still raining over me. I felt like a bitch when my knees wobbled, but what was even more disturbing was the absence of regret or shame I had anticipated. Instead, I felt lighter.

  Until I heard Lou ask, “What the hell are you doing in there?”

  “Masturbating,” I answered honestly. “Want to give me a hand?”

  “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

  “I’m curious,” I told her as I grabbed the neon pink loofah I’d taken her to buy. Then I squirted some of that fruity green apple shit that drove me crazy onto it. “Which part did you think was a joke?”

  “Obviously, you aren’t jerking off while I’m sitting here, and even if you were, you wouldn’t tell me.”

  I smiled at that. “You’re right,” I lied. “I wouldn’t.” I scrubbed the day away and then quickly rinsed off the suds before ripping open the curtain without warning. The water was still running so Lou was caught off guard when I stepped over the lip of the tub.

  Her
eyes nearly fell out of her head, and then she quickly slapped her hands over her eyes missing my grin. “Jesus! Wren!”

  “My bad. I must have forgotten you were here.”

  “Clearly!”

  I looked around the bathroom for extra towels but didn’t see any. “Towel?”

  “Why should I help you, asshole?”

  “Because your foster parents will be home any minute, and you don’t want to have to explain to them why I’m naked, do you?”

  She huffed and grumbled, “Fine,” before hopping off the counter and stomping toward the door. All the while, her gaze never strayed. Not even once. If I hadn’t known her so well, I might have fallen for the act and believed she wasn’t curious. “But after you get dressed,” she continued, “we need to review the boundaries of friendship.”

  I laughed at her attempt to gain control. “Sure thing.”

  I saw the stiff set of her shoulders and waited for her to call me on my shit. Instead, she wordlessly stepped into the hallway. The second the door slammed behind her, I braced my hands on the counter and hung my head. The euphoria was gone, and I felt like shit. I really should have known better than to think I wouldn’t feel remorse. I wasn’t just Lou’s best friend. I was her protector.

  I also needed her more than she needed me.

  It took her a little longer than I expected to return, but when she did, she was flushed and holding a fluffy pink towel. I didn’t get a chance to ask her what was up before she tossed it at me and said, “The Hendersons are home. I’ll go downstairs and distract them while you get dressed.”

  She was gone before I could respond, and after I redressed, I stood there contemplating what to do. I could go back to her room and spend the night on her floor as I’d planned, or I could stay the fuck away from Lou until I got my mind right.

  Closing my eyes, I saw fantasy Lou lying spent with a lazy smile on her lips and staring at me from under lowered lids. She already wanted more, and I was powerless to resist. At that moment, I knew what I needed to do.

  I got the fuck out of there.

  I WATCHED THROUGH THE STORE’S glass window at Grand Central Terminal as my mark searched through his wad of cash for a bill small enough to pay for his items. The moment he left the mini convenience store, I trailed him, but his long strides were making it difficult to follow without drawing attention from the officers and their large dogs. I was ready to give up and find a mark that wasn’t in such a hurry when he finally slowed and stopped to check a directory.

  Closing in, I appeared casual as I stood next to him and slipped my hand in his pocket while pretending to check the directory. He shot me a pleasant smile, which I returned as a garbled voice spoke over the station intercom.

  I was already backing away when I bumped into a hard wall and heard “So it’s picking pockets you prefer to a good home.”

  Even though I hadn’t seen or heard from Wren in the month since he taunted me with his naked body and disappeared out my bedroom window, I didn’t need to turn to see who spoke those words. Unfortunately, the man whose wallet I’d stolen had also heard him.

  Wren’s hand circled my nape before I could get out of there while his other dug inside my waistband to grab the wallet I’d hidden under my sweatshirt. The mark’s skin turned a deep red when Wren returned it to him.

  “Why you little—”

  “Walk away,” Wren cut in, making it clear to the guy whose side he was on.

  I flashed the irate man a cheeky grin but refrained from sticking my tongue out at the feel of Wren’s hand tightening around my neck—an unspoken warning.

  You’re not out of the woods yet.

  The minute the flustered man scurried away, I shoved against Wren’s chest as hard as I could. Of course, he didn’t move an inch, so I got in his face until we were toe-to-toe.

  Never mind that he had almost a foot on me or that we were drawing attention. One of those guided tours walked by, and none of the patrons seemed to be listening as they eyed us. They were probably hoping for a scene so they could record it and post it online.

  I was almost giddy at the thought of Wren becoming an internet sensation. That would piss him off more than I ever could.

  Wren seemed to have similar thoughts because he smoothly wrapped his arms around my waist making it look like we were a couple.

  “What are you doing here?” I hissed.

  “Looking for you, of course.”

  I wanted to smack away the cocky smile he tried to hide. “How did you find me?”

  “Your only friends are all homeless and hungry. How do you think?”

  “They’re not my friends.”

  “Because you don’t need anyone?” His tone warned me to tread carefully, but like Wren once said, I’d always been hard of hearing.

  “Bingo!”

  His eyes seemed to darken, and unconsciously, I took a step back. Noticing my fear, he laughed, which just pissed me off even more.

  “You’re not as tough as you think, mouse.”

  The look I gave him would have withered lesser men. Wren, of course, would never allow himself beneath anyone, least of all me. Ignoring the longing that was warming my belly, I propped my elbow on my wrist and inspected my nails. “And you aren’t as sane as you think. Stalking isn’t something friends do to one another.”

  He had me hemmed against the station directory before I could blink—although, to outsiders, it may have looked more like a lover’s embrace. Not that any of the travelers noticed or even cared as they hurried to catch their trains. Their absentminded frenzy was the reason rush hour was the perfect time for picking a wallet or two. On the days I was feeling frisky, I’d steal as many as four.

  Still, I looked around hoping to catch the eye of some Good Samaritan. Perhaps the dark-haired man who desperately needed to shave. Even though he had to be twice Wren’s age, he certainly had the physique to give him a run for his money. He looked lethal, like a predator lying in wait, as he leaned against one of the pillars diagonal from us. It became obvious the longer I stared that he was watching us. A moment later, I knew I’d be getting no help from him when the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement, and he melted into the shadows like he was Jason Bourne or something. Douchebag.

  “Neither is running away,” Wren retorted, drawing my attention back to him and shoving the stranger from my thoughts. He was seething, yet instead of fear, I felt an adrenaline rush—an urge to tip the scales and feel the full force of his anger. So many times, we’d unwittingly waltzed on the boundaries of friendship. It was only a matter of time before we danced across them. “I watch your back, and you do what I say. That was the deal.”

  My nostrils flared even as another part that I was forbidden to share with him gushed. “That doesn’t sound like friendship to me. Seems more like ownership.”

  For a moment, his eyes seemed to lose focus as he leaned in. “Well, then you’re mine.”

  My lips parted, and any second now, I expected to tell him how absurd he sounded, but all that came out was a breathless gasp. How could it feel this natural to be claimed by him?

  More importantly, had Wren felt it, too?

  This feeling as if a piece we’d overlooked had finally fallen into place.

  A moment later, I got my answer when I read the silent swear on Wren’s lips and measured the distance between us after he took a cautious step back. It was as if he needed the space but was hesitant to give me too much.

  Maybe he was afraid I’d pounce if he ran.

  “We clear?”

  His tone was clipped—authoritative—the swift slam of a briefly opened window. I wondered if I’d imagined it—a trick of the mind like the blue flame creeping from the edges of his usually gray irises. Wren would say it was just a reflection of my own emotions. My gut told me otherwise.

  Not so eager to be burned by those embers, I looked away. The attention we were starting to draw had my heart galloping for a different reason. Dad had always warned me to choose m
y battles wisely, and instinct told me this was one of those times.

  Submit to rebel another day.

  “Crystal.”

  His eyes narrowed when I batted mine.

  He was smart not to trust me.

  “Can we go?” I whined when he looked ready to scold me some more. “I’m starving, and you ran off my mark.”

  “Hunger didn’t seem to bother you when you ran away. Again.”

  My lips pursed. “A gentleman would offer to buy a girl a sandwich.”

  His chuckle sounded forced. Like it was an effort to mask how tempted he was to wring my neck. “I’m no gentleman. That’s why you hate me a little less than the rest of the world.”

  “Just a little,” I admitted with my forefinger and thumb pressed close together. “My tolerance for you above others can be measured with a pinch of salt.”

  The jab seemed to ricochet off his chest and slam into me with the force of a Mack truck when he winked. So simple yet so effective. My empty stomach was still doing cartwheels even after he turned and walked away.

  Like an obedient puppy wanting more, I followed.

  The sun was shining high and bright when we stepped outside the station. Wren immediately reached for his shirt collar before looking down with a frown. To his credit, he didn’t even bother searching the ground or his pockets before his gaze cut my way.

  “I’m the wrong person to steal from, mouse.”

  “And I thought you would have learned by now.” Lowering the aviators now covering my eyes, I peered at him from the top of his shades. “There’s nothing mousy about me.”

  His gaze dipped, and the lazy perusal of my body made me feel both powerful and insignificant at the same time. Because underneath his dismissive gaze, I glimpsed the interest he tried so hard to hide.

  “Well, I thought gutter rat was a bit harsh.”

  I was ready to jump on his back and claw his eyes out when he seized my hand—his warmth and strength a cocoon I never wanted free from. I let him pull me down the street where he parked off Park Ave, and when we reached Wren’s Impala, I started to round the car. I didn’t make it past the taillight before I was swept off my feet and planted on the trunk.

 

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