Dirty Princes (Hot Candy 3)

Whoa.

Crushed between them, I ride out the last ripples of pleasure, dazed.

Her cat steps outside into the terrace, probably wondering what all the howling is about, and stands there, staring at us like we’re escapees from a madhouse.

Then she retreats inside.

And the storm hits.

***

Good neighbor Harold knocks on the door to let me know he’s going back to the city, and by the way check who I’m here with.

I try to block his view of the living room, but he manages to catch a glimpse of my guests and he arches his brows.

“Finally decided to start living again?” he booms, grinning.

“Depends,” I grit out. “Will you start minding your own fucking business?”

I close the door to his face.

I curse.

I lock the door for good measure.

“I do live my life,” I mutter as I return to the cozy fireplace. “Fuck you, Harold.”

My irritability fades away as we finally get around to drinking hot chocolate and roasting marshmallows on the fire, while thunder booms overhead, and the rain lashes at the windows. Lying down on the huge cushions, warmed by the dancing flames, our legs tangled, we’re quiet.

I’m drowsy, and all the sugar in the world won’t stop me from falling asleep soon.

I smirk as I sift through the memories of today. It feels like years since we arrived at the lake house this morning.

I sit up to stir the fire, and Riddick scoots closer, sipping his hot chocolate, leaning into my side and giving me a faint smile.

Brylee shifts, laying her head in my lap and I stroke her soft hair absently. Contentedly. A bit in awe that I’m allowed this, even just for today.

For this weekend.

Her curls are like warm silk. She sighs as I caress a stray curl off her forehead and smiles up at me. Trusting. Happy.

It’d be so damn easy to get used to this.

I wish I could. If things were different…

“I’m loving this resort,” Riddick drawls lazily, “but where’s the mini golf course? The valet parking? And what about room service?”

“I’ll give you room service,” I growl, glad to be drawn away from my thoughts again. “And mini golf.”

He chuckles, props his elbow on my shoulder and props his chin on his hand. “I never doubted you for a moment.”

But he did. With good reason.

He shouldn’t trust me.

“Can we sleep here?” Brylee asks around a yawn. She even yawns cutely. How is that possible? “The beds are faaaaaar away…”

“That room service would come in handy now,” Riddick mutters, his eyes closing.