Page 62 of Wicked Little Darling

His eyes drifted down to my mouth. I wrapped my fingers around his arm and put the slightest pressure on him, tugging him toward me.

“Please?”

He was still staring at my lips, the fingers on my face sliding back to curve around my head. His gaze lifted to mine, searching, searching?—

“Fuck it,” he murmured.

I thought my heart might explode from my chest as he leaned in, and?—

The doorknob rattled and then a bright light was pouring into the closet, blinding me. Reese jolted and his forehead banged into mine.

“Fuck,” he hissed in pain, rocking back on his heels and touching his forehead.

“How’d you boys get yourselves locked in here? Find another damn place to play your games.”

I blinked up at the man who was scowling down at us. “Well we didn’t mean to get locked in,” I said.

He shook his head, then did something with the doorknob. “You can’t get locked in, you control it from the inside. See? Would be pointless if you could control it from the outside.”

I glanced down to watch him twist the lock open and closed.

Huh.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” I muttered.

Reese gave the maintenance worker a smile. “Thanks. And sorry about that, we thought it was a classroom.”

The maintenance guy gave Reese a look that said he didn’t believe that for a single second, then turned around, flipped a light switch somewhere in the closet, and started rifling through something on one of the shelves.

“Excuse me, I left my bags?—”

The man bent down and slid Reese’s bags out in to the hall.

He picked them up, strapped them across his back, and said, “I…”

I stood up, brushing my hands off on my pants as I waited for Reese to gather his thoughts.

“I, um—I’ll see you in the room later?” His eyes were big and full of uncertainty, a beautiful blush staining his cheeks.

I barely restrained myself from pulling him into my arms and kissing those cheeks.

“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat.

Reese glanced down at my groin, then turned and quickly walked away.

When I looked down, I laughed.

I was obviously hard, and Jesus Christ that was embarrassing. I needed to go cool off.

But I just stood there and watched Reese until he disappeared around the corner.

He had a bleeding heart safely tucked behind a crumbling wall crawling with a thousand thorny vines—I just needed time, determination, and a sharpened blade to get through the thicket.

Or maybe some hedge trimmers.

Actually, a well-placed stick of dynamite would probably do the trick.

That night,Reese started talking in his sleep again. When it escalated to moaning and crying, I carefully slid in next to him and curled myself around him.