Page 30 of Riot House
Urgh. It’s really gonna suck walking back out into that storm. I get to my feet, already shivering at the prospect of the driving, icy rain slapping me in the face. “I’m going back to my room. This is a waste of time. I—”
“For some reason, I care aboutyou, though,” he says, clenching his jaw. He’s not looking at me now; his eyes are fixed on the rug in front of the fire. From the expression on his face, I can see that this admission has cost him something. He doesn’tlikewhatever it is he’s feeling right now. “I’m cursed with this bewildering fascination over you, and it’s really becoming…inconvenient, Stillwater.”
I roll my eyes, fighting back a dramatic sigh. “What is this? What’s the point? This is just another bet, isn’t it? You’re looking to redeem yourself after your last embarrassing failure and you figured I’d make an interesting new target in one of your wagers. Well, I’m not your plaything, Wren Jacobi. I was not put on this earth for your amusement. I’ll be cold and dead in the ground before I let you use my heart as a punching bag. So, you can just forget it. Forgetme.”
Panic sizzles under my skin as Wren slowly gets up from the couch. His eyes are alive with electricity, that bottom lip of his trapped between his teeth again. My big speech hasn’t had its desired affect by all accounts. He prowls forward, his muscles shifting beautifully under his skin, and I nearly trip over my own damn feet in my hurry to back away from him. He looks like he’s going to fuckingeatme. “My brain doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid. I don’t justforget. If I want something, I can’t just move on and pretend like it doesn’t exist.”
I inch away from him, and my chest tightens when the backs of my legs hit the armchair I was sitting on a moment ago. I’m going to have to climb over the fucking furniture if I want to get away from him, which is not going to look graceful or dignified. I’ll willingly do it, though, if it means I escape him.
Wren has other ideas. He takes one last step, so close to me now that I can feel his warm breath skating over my cheek, can see the flecks of amber and gold surrounding the black well of his dilated pupil. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. If I even blink, I suspect that he’ll pounce and tear me apart. He takes hold of a lock of my damp, tangled hair, winding it thoughtfully around his fingers. “You’re not a bet, Elodie. I’ve had to bargain with them for you. I’ve had to break my own rules in order to claim you, and it’s cost me greatly.”
Over the top of my paralyzing panic, a hot, furious anger begins to rise. Who the hell does he think he is? So fucking entitled. So fucking arrogant. “You can’t bargain over a person. I don’t belong to any of you. I won’tbe haggled over like a piece of meat.” My pulse is hammering at thirty different points all over my body: in my temples, in my ears, in the tips of my fingers. In my lips…
Wren stares down at my mouth. He’s stopped breathing, wound tight, coiled like a hunter, ready to attack at any moment. I—Jesus Christ, I’ve got to get out of here, before—
Wren tugs on my hair, leaning in even closer, his eyelids half closed as he angles his head to one side, assessing my features. I rock back on my heels. A weightless, terrible moment passes, where I register how unbalanced I am and I realize I’m about to fall. Then I’m sitting down heavily in the chair behind me, the air huffing out of my lungs as Wren continues to press forward. He places one hand on the arm of the chair, the other against the back of it, right above my head. I’m trapped in a cage made by his body, and all I can smell ishim—a dark, heady, beautiful scent that teases the back of my nose. It reminds me of night blooming flowers, and cold winter walks with my mother, and the ocean, and my Uncle Remy’s carpentry workshop.
Holy shit. The next time I smell this scent, it won’t remind me of any of those things. Powerful enough to overwrite my memories, the next time I smell this scent, it will remind me of this moment, trapped in this chair, the way my heartrate is soaring and I feel like I’m about to die a most delicious death. “Get away from me, Wren,” I whisper.
He smiles sadly. “Wish I could, Stillwater. But it ain’t on the cards.”
I’m poised and ready to react. He’s about to fucking kiss me. I’m not afraid of it. I’m shaking all over and I can’t fucking think straight, but I amnotafraid. “Back up, Wren.”
His lips are parted, his pupils close to swallowing up his irises. My palms burn, my fingers itching. I don’t trust myself to move right now. A part of me wants to slap the intense, doped, lust-filled look right off his stupidly handsome face. A part of me wants to fist a handful of his hair and pull him to me, so that his full lips collide with mine.
I want the kiss. I want him to suffer for this invasion of my personal space. I’m at war with myself, and 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. “Iknowyou’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.
“Youaregoing 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.
Shewillcome 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?
