“And by cupcakes, are you speaking figuratively, or...”
Moira winked. “Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll lick both. Now get that sweet ass over here and start measuring.”
Two hours later,I strolled down the hall on the second floor, where I knew his room was. My palms were sweaty as I held the platter filled with chocolate cupcakes, complete with a cherry center. He might laugh in my face or throw the cupcakes in the trash, but at least I tried. When I reached his dorm room door, I forced myself to take a deep breath and shore up my confidence. I was a strong, capable, badass bitch. I could do this.
The door swung open before I could knock a third time, revealing a shifter I’d seen Kingston with before. I believed his name was Derek. He gave me a lazy grin, his white teeth bright and perfectly straight. I bet his dad was a dentist or something.
“Hello there, princess. What in the world brings you here?” He took a long sniff of the air around me. “Mmmm, you smell delicious.” His pitch dark eyes flashed with mischief.
Since the last thing I needed was another eager male sniffing around my lady parts, I glanced around him, trying to peer over his wide shoulders. “Is Kingston here? I baked these for him.”
He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his insanely large arms over his chest. The dark tattoos swirling around his biceps and shoulder nearly blended in with his warm brown skin. “He’s not here. He went out to the clearing to work off some... tension. Maybe you should come in, and we can pretend you baked them for me. I’m much more fun.”
Even though he could give Michael B. Jordan a run for his money in the looks department, there wasn’t even the flicker of a spark. Which was a bit of a relief. I had my hands full enough trying to juggle the men I already had in my life. I didn’t need to add anyone else to the roster.
“That’s probably true, but I’m not interested.” I gave him a sweet but firm smile. “Can you just make sure he gets these?”
“Will do, doll.”
I offered him a pointed stare. “Don’t eat them.”
He gave me a suspicious look. “Why? Whatcha do to them? Poison ‘em or something?”
“Missed opportunity. If I was trying to get back at him for something, don’t think for one second I’d hesitate to have Moira hex them with a hair loss spell.”
He ran a hand over his smooth head. “Guess I’m safe then. Might be worth the risk.”
“At least wait until Kingston gets one. He should have the first bite. After all, they’re cherry. His favorite.”
“What’d he do to get you to give him your cherry?” he asked with a wink.
“He hasn’t gotten it yet.”
Derek let out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. It’s not too late to change your mind and come inside. I could help you out with that. I like my girls feisty.”
“Pass. Thanks.” I handed him the cupcakes and turned on my heels, needing to get to Kingston so I could apologize before his roommate ate all the treats I’d made.
“Well, you know where to find me,” he called after me.
I held up my hand in a noncommittal wave, beelining for the clearing. I wanted this over with. Apologizing to Kingston would be about as pleasant as swallowing a box of knives. Come to think of it, the knives might hurt less.
As I reached the path that would lead me to the clearing we’d used for our training the night before, I caught his scent, the air punctuated by Kingston’s heavy grunts.
Bingo.
“Take it, Sunshine. Take it and love it.” His voice was tight, and it was then I realized the grunts weren’t him working out. Not at all. Arousal coursed through me at the thought of him taking care of his needs out here, thinking of me.
How should I handle this? Should I leave him alone until he... finished? Do I offer a helping hand? My cheeks burned at the thought. I knew what he was packing. I might need both hands.
But as I stepped into the clearing, a cold pit formed in my stomach. He was working out his tension, all right. Balls deep inside some shifter girl he’d bent over a fallen log, his fingers tangled in her hair, other hand gripping her waist.
A soft gasp escaped my lips, and Kingston’s eyes snapped to mine. Before I could even decide what to think or feel about the sight of him pounding into her, his face twisted in panic and pleasure, and he came with a loud growl.
“Sunday—”
The girl under him sighed. “My name is Heather.”
I felt sick. This asshole wasn’t different. He was still just as much of a dick as ever. “Fuck you, Kingston.”