Dirty Princes (Hot Candy 3)

“Not yet, I guess.”

“I feel like

it’s here already.”

This boy makes me want to bawl sometimes. I think I love you, I want to say, but don’t. Because that way lies madness.

“If the storm hits, we’ll take shelter,” I say instead. “Together.”

And why does it feel like our discussion has nothing to do with the weather?

Ryan returns, his gaze settling first on me, then Riddick, warm like a caress. “Ready for the greatest outdoors adventure of your lives?”

Riddick snorts, and I love Ryan for that. For making him laugh. And the thought returns, different color, same flavor.

God, I think I love you, Ryan.

“I’ve turned on the lights,” he says, “and the tub is almost full.”

I frown. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“Good.” Ryan winks at me and goes away, presumably to check on the tub again.

Naked. I will be naked in the tub with them.

And how is that different from being naked with them here?

“Having fun, Princess?” Riddick asks quietly, turning his head to nuzzle my neck, sending a shudder through me. “Is everything okay?”

So sweet, concerned about me when he’s obviously so worried about his brother.

My heart lurches again with affection and desire and so many things I can’t quite name. The thing is, I feel so much closer to them now, after the intimacy of the afternoon. Like a wall came down between us, baring our souls, bringing them together.

Maybe the way to a woman’s heart passes through her pussy? Like a man’s is supposed to go through the stomach?

Holy crap, Bry.

Sometimes I’m really glad nobody can hear my thoughts.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tipsy Titties Cupcakes

Riddick

Standing at the glass doors, I stare out at the lake and the clouds hovering on the horizon. It looks vast like space, and I rub at the tattoo on my chest over my T-shirt, not sure why I feel so lost. So far the weekend has been going surprisingly smoothly.

Maybe it’s because I’m not used to having time off, quiet time, time to think.

Not sure I like it, all these thoughts crowding my head, my worry for Xavier and Mom, about money and bills, about everything.

I’ve never stopped wanting to escape, I realize. I just gave up.

“You’re still dressed,” Ryan says, and I turn to see him placing a metal grid in front of the fire. He’s looking at me, though, green eyes narrow and gleaming like a cat’s.

“So what’s the plan?” I mutter. “Drop everything and run out screaming, then dive-bomb into the tub?”

He grins. “Something like that.”