Page 30 of Wicked Temptations
It was always the same dream. The same hazy backseat. The same desperate sounds spilling from Ash’s mouth while he rode me like his life depended on it.
I shoved my hand down my boxers and took care of it quickly and efficiently, trying not to think about golden-brown skin or the weight of him in my lap or the way he’d saidyourslike he meant it.
Afterward, I lay there staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.
It had been three days since the parking lot. Three shifts of carefully choreographed avoidance where we stuck to the script and didn’t look at each other longer than necessary. We kept it professional and clean. Exactly what it should be.
Except I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
I groaned and pulled back the corner of my blackout curtain above my bed. It had been raining all morning, lightly at first, but it had been building into something heavier as I’d dozed. By the time I staggered into the shower, it was coming down in sheets.
The forecast on my phone promised thunderstorms all afternoon and evening.
Great.Nothing killed attendance like weather warnings. And nothing made stage makeup run faster than humidity and rain. We’d probably spend half the night reapplying, trying to keep the aesthetic sharp while sweating through tactical gear that wasn’t designed for moisture.
I pulled on jeans and a black henley, grabbed my keys, and headed out for coffee and whatever passed for breakfast at one in the afternoon.
The grocery store was mostly empty. Just the usual collection of night shift workers and retired people who shopped during off-peak hours. I grabbed a basket and made my way toward the fridges up the back, already mentally calculating how many energy drinks I’d need to get through a shift in shit weather.
That’s when I saw him.
Ash stood in front of the refrigerated section, staring at energy drinks like they held the secrets of the universe. He wore a plain gray t-shirt that clung to his shoulders in a way that should be illegal, and dark jeans that somehow looked better than anything I owned. His hair was still slightly damp, the undercut visible where it was shaved close to his skull.
He looked good.Toogood for someone who should just be another coworker I occasionally fucked in dark places.
I had the advantage; he hadn’t seen him. I could turn around. Grab coffee from the other end of the store. Avoid this entire situation.
Instead, I walked toward him like an idiot.
He must have sensed movement because he glanced over, and our eyes met. Surprise flickered across his face, blending with the same uncomfortable awareness that had been sitting in my chest for days.
“Hey.” My voice came out rougher than intended.
“Hey.” He turned back to the drinks, and I watched his hand hover over the selection. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Needed caffeine.” I stepped closer, reaching for the same brand he was looking at. Our fingers brushed. It was brief but electric, and I pulled back like I’d been burned.
Get it together.
“Vanilla coconut?” He pulled one of the cans from the shelf, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t peg you for the sweet stuff.”
“Could say the same.” I grabbed a can identical to his. “Thought you’d be more of a straight black coffee type.”
“Sometimes. Other times I like the sugar kick.” He smiled, just a little, and it did something stupid to my pulse. “Figure if I’m going to be awake when my body wants to sleep, might as well enjoy it.”
Fair point. I added two more cans to my basket, trying not to notice how close we were standing. How easy it would be to reach out and touch his arm. To pull him closer.
Don’t.
“Storm’s going to kill attendance tonight,” I said instead, filling the silence with something safe.
“Yeah. Checked the forecast.” He moved down the aisle, and I followed without thinking. “Parker’s probably already having a meltdown about numbers.”
“Makeup’s going to be a nightmare. Humidity and rain’s a bitch.”
“Tell me about it.” He stopped in front of the snack section, scanning the shelves. “Spent twenty minutes yesterday trying to get the jawline right, and it still smudged by the second rotation.”
I knew. I’d noticed. The black had bled slightly at the corners, making it look like he had black veins in his throat. When he’d pinned me to the ground, I’d wanted to reach up and smudge it further, ruin it completely.
