Page 6 of Hostile Cravings (Wicked Cravings #3)
Chapter Four
ANGIE
T he nightmare just kept getting worse. Tyson stomped away as my jaw dropped. A honeymoon? This couldn’t be happening. None of this could be.
“Come on, I’ll show you to your room,” Casey said.
Mason grabbed her as she walked by and pulled her in for a kiss.
I could see by the way her entire body leaned into his that it was a sensual one.
I wanted to be happy for her, but I was stuck in this mess and there was a part of me that was jealous.
There was no way I would ever admit that to anyone.
While I enjoyed partying and the sex that came with it, I’d never had a man kiss me like that.
They’d only ever kissed me with the intention of having sex with me, which was exactly how I liked it.
No commitment, no intimacy, no ability to see me for anything more than what I presented to them.
The sexy, self-assured, rich daughter of the man who held the power in our territory.
Mason let her go, and a deep blush filled her cheeks.
“Don’t dawdle, princess,” he said in a low voice that would have had any woman swooning. “I plan to finish what I started before these two interrupted us.”
Damn, he was hot. He wasn’t my usual type, but there was no denying his sex appeal.
Why did I have to get stuck with Tyson? The asshole who was nothing but mean to me, who only looked at me with disgust. Not that I wanted him to look at me any other way, but he may have been just as sexy if he did.
I thought about that moment when I’d caught him looking at me on the plane.
It was an unguarded moment, and I’d noticed how the gold specks in his eyes had shimmered with something almost sweet.
His thick brown curls were messy from sleep, giving him a cute, boyish look.
But it had faded, the hard glares returning along with the insults.
I wanted to make a snide comment about how I could help Mason finish, but I didn’t have the energy.
Being with Tyson all day had drained me and the thought of crawling into bed and sleeping was too inviting.
Following Casey through the house, I tried not to think about my father or how much I missed him and Tony.
This place was so different from ours, this territory so cold and far from the beach.
At least we’d be out of here in the morning, heading to the island.
I wasn’t sure what island, but it didn’t matter.
As long as there was sun and sand, I’d be happy.
“You’ll stay in this room,” Casey said, stopping in front of a door. She sounded a little too giddy, especially when she followed it up with, “Good luck getting any sleep.”
She walked off with too much pep in her step, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the man waiting for her in the kitchen.
“What about my bags?” I asked.
“Get them yourself. We’re self-sufficient around here, Angie. That spoiled girl shit doesn’t fly in this province.”
She was around the corner before I could think of something smart to say back. Damn. I’d have to find my way back to the front of the house and I hadn’t paid any attention to where she’d taken me. With a huff, I opened the door.
“What the fuck?” Tyson snapped.
He was pulling a t-shirt over his head, covering a sexy chest lined with muscles and tattoos.
I couldn’t think of anything to say, my eyes following the material of the shirt as it covered his stomach, then tracking his solid arms and the tattoos that decorated them.
Swallowing, I glanced up at his face. He wore a smirk that normally would have irritated the shit out of me, but for some horrid reason, sent a surge of warmth through my lower body. His eyes danced with amusement.
“I thought I told you my dick was off limits, little viper.” Shit, the way he said that nickname held a different tone, and that warmth became a burning.
I needed to pull myself together. This was Tyson Raines, not some hunk I wanted to touch or even look at, despite how good he looked in those gray sweatpants and that black t-shirt.
“Keep it in your pants, asshole.” My words didn’t carry the same acidity they usually did, and I worried that he’d notice.
“Believe me, I will. Now get out of my room.” There he was. The harsh prick had returned, the smirk overtaken by a frown.
“This is where Casey said I was sleeping, so get out of my room.”
“Unfucking believable. There’s no way I’m sharing my room with you. All the rooms in this house and they think…I’m gonna kill Mason and don’t even get me started on what I’m gonna do to Casey.”
He stomped to the door and, with a shrug, I sat on his bed. “Do I want to know how many times you’ve jerked off in these sheets?” I asked, gingerly picking up the corner of his comforter.
He swiveled to me, walking over and yanking me off the bed.
The force sent me into his chest, which I didn’t think was his intention because he froze just like I did.
It was a strangely comfortable place to be, and I inadvertently leaned further into it, noticing the distinct bulge in his pants and how enticingly large it was.
“I thought you didn’t want to play with me?” I said, flicking my eyes downward and knowing how pissed he’d be that I’d noticed.
He shoved me back, and I landed hard on the bed, the fall knocking the wind from me. The breath I’d been taking stuck as he dropped over me and hovered just close enough to stir something in me that I didn’t like.
“I can guarantee I don’t want to play with your bratty, used body. And no, I don’t need to jerk off in my bed. I have plenty of women to choose from and any stains you find are from the last one I had in it.”
“You don’t use protection?” I asked, tilting my head and trying not to let him see the effect he was having on me, the one I was cursing because I hated this man with a passion.
My question threw him off and his brow creased like he didn’t know how to answer it.
“You do?” he asked, his tone curious.
“Of course, idiot. If they’re having sex with me one night, they’re doing the same with other women another night, and…ewww.”
He laughed, the tension fading, but he was still hovering over me. “You never let them go bare?”
“I…” I never had. I was on the pill for extra protection, but I had never been that attached to anyone, nor did I trust anyone enough to let them come inside of me. I wasn’t about to tell Tyson that, though. “No, it’s gross.”
He laughed even harder, and I hit his chest.
“Don’t laugh. With all the sluts you sleep with, you’re a prime example of why I don’t want that shit inside of me.”
His eyes hardened. “I use protection, bitch.”
My hand hadn’t removed from his chest when I’d hit him. It was still hanging there, the firm muscles below tense again. He glanced down at it, then back at me.
“All the time?” I asked, not really knowing why, but Tyson was like me in more ways than I wanted to admit. Both of us seeking something in the casual hook-ups we regularly had. That thought hit me hard because I knew it was the truth, even if we hated each other.
He lifted himself from me and rolled his neck, giving me a look I couldn’t read as I leaned up on my elbows.
“Most of the time, unless it’s serious.”
“And has it ever been serious?” What was wrong with me? I didn’t care, just like he didn’t.
His eyes scrunched, like he was trying to figure out the same thing. “Not in a very long time. Now get out of my bed and my room. I expect you to be gone when I get back or I’ll call that flight attendant up and have her blow me in front of you.”
He grabbed his phone and left, slamming the door behind him.
Dropping back onto the bed, I stared at the ceiling, wondering why I’d asked those questions and why my heart had raced when he’d been hovering over me.
Deciding that aggravating him again would make me feel better, I sat up and looked around the room.
It was messy, but no more messy than my brother’s room.
Rising, I walked, my fingers draping over the personal life of a man I’d never been close to, never caring who he was because he pissed me off so much.
Small insights into the man he was. A framed picture of him with Casey when they were younger sat on his dresser.
I picked it up, only then realizing how much older he was than me.
Casey was a few years older than me, but Tyson was in his mid-thirties.
Chewing my lip, I set the frame down and picked up another picture.
It was of a couple who looked blissful and in love.
The woman was looking up at the man, her smile large as his hazel eyes looked back at her.
Her long brown curls matched Casey’s and the mop of curls on Tyson’s head.
Their parents. I’d never bothered going to Casey’s apartment, never caring what her life was outside of our family even when I’d dragged her shopping or clubbing with me.
I knew their parents were dead, but that was all.
I’d never asked about them or really much of anything that didn’t pertain to me.
Replacing the photo, I shoved away the guilt that threatened to settle on my shoulders.
I didn’t want to care about their life outside of me and my world.
Nothing mattered but me and what made me happy.
I fortified myself with those thoughts, knowing they were the same ones that had driven me for years and shaped me into the woman who Tyson detested, the one most people hated unless they were having sex with me.
Throwing my shoulders back and holding my head high, I trudged out of the room, determined to find my luggage and another room to sleep in.
But I didn’t know this house and the further I got from Tyson’s room, the lonelier I felt and the more my homesickness hit.
Turning around, I gave up on my search for my luggage and returned to his room.