Wicked Indulgence (Wicked Innocence 2)

“Are we still talking about music?” I ask, my voice husky. Surely I’m not the only one feeling the connection here? Her icy blue eyes remain on mine, burning into my soul. My cock twitches as her lips curve into a smile.

“Depends how you take it. It’s like anything in life. You have to fight for what you want, right?” She turns on her heel and sashays toward the door. Just as she reaches it, she turns around. “For your sake, I hope you’re right. I hope your friends are as serious about this as you are.”

I watch her as she disappears down the hall, my heart pumping. She’s concerned about nothing. The guys are as into this as I am, if not more so. But that doesn’t stop the niggling doubt in the back of my mind.

What if they’re not?

Chapter Four

It’s late afternoon when I get back home. Stace is sitting on the sofa watching TV. I glance around for a sign of my parents, but see none. I sit down with her and watch TV too, lasting all of five minutes before the show is pissing me off.

“What the hell is this shit?” I mutter, rolling my eyes. I reach for the remote.

Stace screams, teari

ng it away from me. “Luca is going to kiss Amber this episode. If I miss it I’ll never live it down,” she pleads, her eyes wide with panic.

Shaking my head, I let go of the remote. “Overdramatic much?” I tease.

She doesn’t even hear me, already glued back to her show.

Sighing, I get up and make my way into the kitchen, my stomach rumbling. I’m surprised to find Mom in there. I stop in my tracks. I must be seeing things, because there is no way in hell my mother is standing in our kitchen making a cake. Not when there’s alcohol to be consumed.

“Sax,” she beams. Setting her bowl down, she rushes over to me, her arms open.

I hug her back, my senses on high alert for the smell of her usual go-to drink of choice, whiskey.

Huh. Nothing.

“Hey, Mom. What’s going on?” I ask.

I take a seat at the counter and watch her pour the batter into a tin. Seeing her like this makes me nervous. The last time I remember Mom baking was the day before my seventh birthday. She attempted to make me the superhero birthday cake I’d been begging her for. I was so proud of her when she’d decided to make it herself. Unfortunately the cake never made it to my birthday after she nearly burned the kitchen down when she forgot it was in the oven until three hours later.

“I’ve invited your aunt and uncle over for dinner. Your father’s out of town on business,” she adds. Sometimes I wonder who is happier when he’s away—me or her.

“And you’ve decided to cook?” I ask slowly. I’ve tasted Mom’s cooking and it’s not good.

“No, I’m making a cake. Hilda will be here to cook,” she retorts, making a face at me. “And watch your attitude, Saxon. You might be twenty-one, but you’re still my baby. You’re never too old for a smack.”

I grin and swipe my finger around the empty bowl. Tastes pretty good.

“And I want you to take it easier on Harry, okay?” she adds, speaking about my cousin.

“Me?” I laugh. “He’s the one with a massive stick up his ass. I have no idea what his problem is, but if you think I’m going to—”

“Sax,” Mom groans, rubbing her temples.

I stop and nod. In the back of my mind I’m thinking about how rare this moment is—being able to have a conversation with Mom that she’s actually going to remember in a few hours.

“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll behave.”

I wander back into the living room, where Stace is playing with her phone.

She looks up and gives me a grin. “Mom still baking?”

“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “I think that freaks me out more than her drinking.”

Stace laughs. “No, it’s good to be able to have a normal mom around for once. Not that it will last.” I hear the sadness in her voice and sigh.