“Nothing. He just said he swiped a stash of hotdogs because of a secret society of concession stand Nazis. Relax, Peters.” A sharp pain shot through my neck. “Ouch, Jesus, I can barely move my neck.”

Peters chuckled. “That’s because you played Call of Duty for an hour with Chance. I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you now. You killed Scott Johnson like seven times… and you whispered into the headset, ‘When you don’t go to bed when your mom says so, Scott, you die by my red-hot bullet.’”

“Yeah. That kid is a little twerp. He kept calling me old lady, and Chance did try to grab my ass once.”

Peters’s face practically burst into flames, and I laid a hand on his knee. “But I turned around and slapped him in the face. Then killed his character with a serrated knife across the throat.” I gave his knee a reassuring squeeze. He covered my hand, grasping my fingers gently.

I grew somewhat breathless when he stroked over my fingertips. “Tell me three things that are true about you, Sydney Fu, car thief and jokester.” He rolled his fingertips up my wrist and swept over my keyboard tattoo, stopping to play notes along my skin.

“I’m twenty-one years old,” I said as a line of electric goose bumps blossomed across my skin. I sat up and pointed to the blue strips of devil fabric in the corner. “I hate wearing dresses.”

Peters chuckled again and locked his caramel eyes on my lips.

“And I love cuddling.” I tossed the mountain of pillows off the bed.

Peters hopped up and turned off his light. When he jumped back in bed, he slid his arm over my waist, dragging me into the curve of his body. “Good night, Sinister,” he whispered into the back of my neck, pulling the covers over our bodies.

“Good night, micro-dick,” I teased, and he gave me a tight squeeze before we both fell back to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

From the moment I woke up, I wholeheartedly wanted Sydney Porter. Sinister. She was a dark angel tucked into my arms. When her soft hair brushed against my neck, rousing me from my sleep, it aroused something else, too. I tried to conjure the most horrifying images to keep myself calm. Fernando naked didn’t work. The bubonic plague didn’t work. Now Katharine’s shrill cackle, yeah, that had me sneaking glances under the covers to make sure I was still a man.

With my manhood in check, my brain began firing on all cylinders. Without a doubt, I had a seriously sexy, wickedly funny girl lying in my arms. Sydney Porter was my own personal touchdown. And I was close to winning the game. But my gnawing sickness tripled overnight.

I’d taken this game too far.

My lies were a thick smoke in the air, an emotional haze making it hard to breathe. It would’ve been easy to stop with the blackmail. Let things go back to normal. But stupid me went and wrote a letter, raising Sydney’s hopes. And she wasn’t dumb and she wasn’t a quitter. She’d hunt her blackmailer and eventually, the trail would lead to Gray Peters.

 

Two years earlier…

How we went from guitar lessons to naked, I had no idea. What I did know was it was not this mere mortal’s place to question a gift from the gods. A gift wrapped in black lace and taut, olive skin. Nope. When a present like Sydney was delivered right into your lap, you didn’tignore it.

“We don’t have to do anything, Sydney.” Laying down my guitar, I stood from the bed. “I wasn’t trying to bring you back to my room to get you into bed.”

Sydney moved her hands behind her back and unclasped her lace bra. As it fell to the floor, two firm breasts appeared, lying against her skin like teardrops.

Move, Peters.

I don’t remember walking, but then I was there, inhaling her strawberry body lotion. My palm rolled across her goose bump-prickled skin, as if directed by a ghost. Catching a glimpse of her tattoo, I licked my bottom lip, ready to taste her.

“Sydney, are you sure you want to do this?”

I knew she wasn’t drunk. She’d hardly had a few sips. She nodded, focusing her brown saucer eyes on mine.

“Have you ever done this before?”

Nodding again, she wrapped her hands around the back of my neck and pulled me to her mouth. It was warm and sweet to the taste. Sydney was addictive. I caught her plump lower lip between my teeth, tugging it gently.

“More,” I whispered.

Then Sydney opened for me, allowing my tongue to sweep inside and explore.

A timid moan escaped her, and I wished it were louder. I was going to make it louder. Running my tongue down her neck, my lips fell between her breasts. I kissed each softly, until she let out a hungrier moan. There it is. Music to my ears.

“Let’s go to the bed,” she whispered. “My knees are getting weak.”

I made her knees weak?

Sydney took my hand, and I led her to the bed. When she sat down, I stood in front of her, staring down at her heart-shaped face. What’s next? T-shirt. Pulling it off, I threw it on my desk.

“Lie down,” I said, kneeling in front of her trembling thighs.

Spreading her legs apart, I lightly kissed along the inside of her knee.

“Take your pants off,” she countered, twisting a stray strand of hair around her finger. The rest of her wild, dark hair lay like a veil covering her breasts.

“Pull your hair back.”

She flipped her long hair to her back, and I leaned in, taking a breast in my mouth.

“I said take off those pants, Gray.”

“Or what?” I mumbled between mouthfuls of skin.

Her foot skimmed up my thigh and stopped between my legs.

Pants were off in three seconds.

She’d have to take off the boxers, though. I wanted to feel her hands pull them down. It was my last test to see if this was real. When I kissed closer to her center, Sydney reacted by slamming her legs shut.

I jerked my head back like I’d just missed a swinging axe. “Are you okay?”

Her face was flush. “Yeah, I’m not used to faces down in that area,” she said awkwardly, making a wide sweeping motion with her hand just above her panties.

“What? You mean no one’s been down here in eighteen years?” I smiled at her, and she turned her face, biting down on her lip—sexy as hell.

“Well, that changes tonight. Lift those hips.”

Cautiously, she lifted her hips, and I pulled off her panties. She didn’t shave it all off. It was trim and tidy but womanly. She flexed her thighs next to my head as I lowered my face.

“Scoot back across the bed.”

When she reached the wall, she propped up on her elbows. “I want to watch.” She released a low, nervous breath. “Can I grab your head? I’ve seen it in movies.”

“In movies?” I laughed. “Baby, you can grab whatever you want.”

I slid my palms over the insides of her smooth thighs, kneading the worry from them. “Relax your legs, Sydney.”

She was reluctant at first, but eventually, she let me kiss the insides of her thighs and lowered her legs to the bed. Spreading them wide open, I pinned her knees down so she didn’t have a jerk reaction and crush my skull.

“How does it look?” she asked timidly, and I about lost my shit.

This innocent girl who was letting me explore her for the first time was nervous as hell.

“It looks perfect. You’re perfect.” I blew onto her wetness, and she released a cracked breath, staring up at the ceiling. “Don’t worry. Just relax.”

I kissed her clit, and she muffled a moan against her forearm.

“Music’s loud, baby. Be as loud as you want.”

When my lips landed on their perfect pink destination, an aching, guttural sound came from her, pushing me to be greedy. My hunger only increased when she laid a hand on back of my head. Then she grasped my hair, bringing me close to her slowly bucking hips, and the room became drenched with raspy feminine moans. Excited shivers cascaded across my back and multiplied with each delicious lick and tease.