Page 16 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)

Holly

Is Winter responding to your texts?

Missy

Do you think she is?

W inter gazed unseeingly at the passing storefronts, her eyebrows pinched.

She hated being surprised by people. By anything, really.

Surprise birthday parties were at the top of the list of things she abhorred.

Everything in her life was as carefully controlled as she could make it.

She supposed it was her way of balancing out the fact that she couldn’t control her visions.

And yet Erikson had succeeded in surprising her twice within the past ten minutes.

The first surprise had come on the heels of her already having to admit that he wasn’t just a wastrel idiot living off his millions, when he’d gone and displayed a disturbing amount of emotional intelligence.

He was self-aware enough to know why he’d been teasing her, even if she’d been surprised to learn it was because in his own weird way, he was trying to be helpful.

But you’re worth more than the cheap, easy route, Win.

It wouldn’t be fair to ask herself if any man had ever seen her so well: Erikson was the only man who’d ever known what she was and what she’d been cursed with, so there was no competition.

But even if he didn’t know what she was, Winter had the uncomfortable suspicion that he’d still be able to peel back the layers of her armor to expose the soft, vulnerable woman beneath.

She wondered if his carefree personality was his own sort of armor, preventing people from looking too closely and realizing he was far more intelligent and insightful than he appeared.

Maybe it was a strategy he’d cultivated so that he could disarm others when chasing after his supernatural stories—or maybe Erikson was hiding his own vulnerabilities as much as she was.

The second surprise was what he’d done after they’d climbed into the truck after meeting with the priest. The way he’d looked at her and tugged her close by the back of the neck like she belonged to him—it had been shocking. Confusing.

And so inexplicably hot.

There had been a moment where his stormy sea gaze had been on her mouth, and she’d known with every cell in her body that he was going to kiss her.

It had felt like she’d seen that look in his eye a thousand times before and knew the inevitable outcome.

If she was being honest with herself, she’d wanted him to do it.

She’d never been handled like that before, and to her utter amazement, it had unlocked something new inside her.

Winter was always in charge, but when he’d confidently pulled her to him, like he knew what she needed better than she did, it had made her insides turn hot and liquid in a way that made her embarrassed even to remember.

Then the child had screamed, interrupting his trance, and he’d dropped his hand, leaving her slightly breathless and extremely bewildered.

The strange thing was that he’d seemed confused too, like even he wasn’t sure why he’d been a mere second from kissing her, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, either.

Since that moment, something had shifted between them.

His teasing had taken on a forced edge, like it no longer came naturally to him.

Like he no longer considered her an annoying task.

What he thought of her now, she didn’t know.

He claimed he wanted to be friends, but the way he’d told her he would take pleasure in tormenting her had sounded anything but friendly. It had sounded raw. Animalistic. Sexy.

And since when did Winter think of Erikson in conjunction with words like “animalistic” and “sexy?” What was happening to her?

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she blurted. Oh, great. Very subtle, Winter.

He flashed her an inscrutable look. “If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t be teasing you with silly names and sleeping in the same bed as you.”

“Oh.” Was Erikson faithful to his partners? It was yet another blow to her image of him as careless connoisseur of women.

“I’d ask if you have a boyfriend, but I already know the answer.”

She remained silent.

“You don’t, do you?” he pressed, a line appearing between his brows.

“No.”

But Erikson had that same uncanny ability to tease out a half-truth that his brother did. “Not a boyfriend . . . but someone. A fuck buddy?”

Her cheeks flushed, and his jaw hardened. “No,” she muttered, “not quite. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You brought it up, Winter.”

“My mistake. Back to silence.”

“Oh no, you opened this can of worms, my vicious little partner in crime, and now the little squirmy things are everywhere. Who is he?”

“It’s none of your business. I’m not asking about who you’re sleeping with.”

“Easy,” he answered, “no one. Last time I hooked up with a woman was seven months ago. We had a glorious week together before she had to fly back home. Before that it was another woman looking for a good time. We slept together for about a month before she ran into her old high school boyfriend at a party and they decided to give the whole relationship thing another try. Before that it was?—”

“Okay!” she held up her hand, her mouth unexpectedly dry. “I get it.”

“Your turn.”

“It’s not some big thing, Erikson. I don’t have boyfriends, and I don’t have flings like you. I have an app. And when I have urges, I meet up with people. That’s the big secret.”

When she glanced at him, his eyes were narrowed on the road. “These random hookups satisfy you?”

“Please tell me you’re not about to launch into some sexist rant about how I need a relationship and children to satisfy me, because I?—”

He turned to her, his eyes dancing with amusement despite the tension she still sensed in him. “No, I meant, do they sexually satisfy you?”

Oh. Oh. Well, some of them did. She didn’t often feel the desire to be close to another person, maybe only a few times a year, but when she did, she tried to choose people she thought would be compatible with her.

She typically went for men who stated in their profiles that they preferred dominant partners.

It was easier to boss them around and ensure she’d get what she needed, and in turn they got what they needed.

It was also a good way to stay in control, and she didn’t have to deal with alphaholes who got their rocks off while leaving her without an orgasm.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Don’t sound too confident, Winter.”

“Do your flings satisfy you ?”

“As much as they can. I assume sex would be more . . . just more with someone I love, but I’ve never experienced it, so I can’t be sure.”

Again, his maturity caught her off guard. Instead of insisting that all he needed was sex, he easily admitted that he might be missing out on a more emotional connection.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Do you want that more with someone?”

He stroked his hand over his chin. “Yeah, I would with the right woman. I’d be nuts not to want what my brother and your sister have, you know? What about you? You want a husband to sharpen your claws on some day?”

Winter rolled her eyes. “I’m not that scary, Grimm. But no, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t have it, so I don’t let myself want it.” Oh shit, where had that come from?

He pulled into a parking space, but she was too focused on his profile to pay attention to where they were. He shifted the truck into park and faced her, giving her his full attention. “Why can’t you have it?”

“Because I’m . . . me.”

“Fierce? Hot? Loyal?”

Her blood fizzled a little. Did he really think she was all those things? She doubted it. He was just trying to be nice. “Wicked.”

“Nah. One day you’re going to find the right guy, and he’s not going to care about that. In fact, he might even like it a little.”

That would never happen, but she appreciated his attempt as her “friend” to make her feel better. “Right. Sure.”

He must’ve realized she didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he said, “So how do you choose who to sleep with if you don’t meet first and gauge the chemistry?”

“People have profiles, and I don’t care about chemistry. I’m not looking for repeats.”

“And you call me a playboy.”

“You play with people’s hearts. I just play with their . . . anatomy.”

His pupils expanded and he leaned forward. “I don’t, actually. I’m always upfront and honest with my partners. Now tell me about these profiles. What makes a man worthy of you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I want to be friends, remember, Win?” He reached forward and lifted one of her loose curls, gently tugging before letting it go. For some reason, the intimacy of the act made her stomach clench. “Shouldn’t I know what my friend looks for in a partner? Maybe I can be your wingman.”

She licked her lips and felt the heaviness of his gaze move to her mouth.

Winter never felt nervous around other people; if she didn’t like the direction of a conversation, she flatly shut it down and moved on.

She didn’t understand why she let Erikson of all people wriggle his way inside and pry apart her cracks like this.

Why didn’t she open the truck door and hop onto the pavement right now and give him the cold shoulder?

Why did she feel so compelled to bare these pieces of herself to him?

“I look for submissive partners.”

He gave a soft snort. “Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I shouldn’t have even had to ask; I should have guessed. You’d never let yourself be vulnerable around anyone, would you?”

“Now wait a second, maybe that’s just my sexual preference.”

“Is it?”

Being in charge was convenient, but was it her preference? Before Erikson had tugged her toward him with such gentle dominance she would have said yes, but now she wasn’t sure she knew, and that flustered her. “It’s . . . it’s none of your business, Grimm! How many times do I have to say that?”

“Fine. Let’s go inside. I won’t bring it up again.”