“Shit!” I jumped at Theo’s voice, falling back against the brick wall, heart racing. Did he really remember our move?
As if he could read my mind, he said, “You haven’t changed.”
His clear green eyes roamed my body. My satin black tank scorched beneath them, and I jumped back to this morning, when I’d been in nothing but my silky pajamas. I hardened my glare, refusing to fold my arms.
With a wicked grin, eyes lingering on my chest, he added, “Strike that, you’ve changed some.”
I fought the urge to kick sand at him.
“Wanna tell me where you were going, or should we do it the fun way?”
I stayed silent.
He rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb, watching me. “There isn’t much around here.” He focused on me. Studying me. Digging into me. Once again it was like he was reading my mind.
As if he was commanding me to do it, my eyes traveled left, where, in the distance, barely visible against the darkening sky, was the decrepit Ferris wheel that marked Horsemen’s Wharf.
“The Wharf? Really?” He sounded disappointed in me.
He pushed me against the brick wall. “What was your plan, Reject? Go to the wharf, get some drugs, put them on me, and call Grandpa Crowne?”
Yes.
Dammit.
It had worked with so many of my other guards.
Theo kept pushing into me, knee grinding up against me in ways I liked too much.
“Get off me.” I tried to push him off and he gripped my wrists.
A cruel smile spread those devilish, heart-shaped lips. “Are you still a virgin?”
I felt like a doe about to be caught in the jaws of a mountain lion. For a brief moment, I showed him my neck. Ice-cold water drenched my spine, and I locked eyes with him. No one in the world would accuse Abigail Crowne of being a virgin.
But Theo had never been just anyone.
I quickly shook out of it, re-dropping my walls, but I took too long to respond. “No.”
He laughed.
Hiking his knee up just a little bit, pressing on that deep, aching spot inside me.
“You are.”
There was wonder in his voice, but it was drowned by the cruelty. It reminded me of a photo I’d seen of tourists on a beach taking selfies with a dead baby dolphin.
Vicious delight.
I’d done everything but—so technically I wasn’t. Right?
“This changes things.” He pressed his knee hard, and a traitorous gasp fell from my lips. I hated myself for grabbing onto him, wrinkling his shirt.
His touch threaded into my hair, pulling my head, exposing my neck. “How much would you give me to make your first time magical, Reject?”
“I’m not having sex with you.” Why did my voice shake?
Another laugh.