Page 59 of Wicked Dreams

Oh God.

“What are you doing?”

“Eating you out,” he replies. “You taste like my new favorite meal.”

The dream burns out around me, and suddenly I’m gasping awake in the darkness. My heart pounds, and there’s a rushing noise in my ears. It takes a minute for the room to come into focus, and?—

Oh God. Again. Except I’m awake.

I rise on my elbows and lock eyes with Caleb.

Maybe I’m still dreaming? Because he’s between my legs… and then his tongue moves again, and I whimper. He doesn’t say anything, even when I reach out and run my fingers through his hair.

What the hell is happening?

I collapse back, unable to look at him. I grip the bedsheets, and when he sucks on my clit, my hips automatically move. He focuses on that one little spot, alternating between sucking and licking, even scraping his teeth along it.

It shoves me over the edge.

I arch and twist, the brilliant pleasure whiting out my vision for a moment. My legs tense, squeezing his head, and it’s only when I sag, the energy flooding out of me, that he lifts his head.

“Delicious,” he murmurs. “Did you dream of me?”

I force my eyes to open. “What?”

“You moaned before you woke up.”

My face heats. I should be madder than I am, but the overwhelming feeling is disorientation.

I’m still not convinced I’m awake.

He moves backwards, then stands and circles the bed. He takes my wrists and pulls, lifting me into a sitting position. His hands go to my ankles, swinging them over the edge of the bed.

And in a matter of seconds, I’m standing in front of him. With no panties or shorts on… just a t-shirt I’ve had for a long time. He’s blocking the path to my closet. Unsure, I cover my chest with one arm.

My outfit isn’t the only embarrassing thing. There are clothes on my floor, my hair is probably a wild mess?—

I tuck my hair behind my ear to minimize the damage. “What are you doing here?”

He raises a shoulder.

Great non-answer. Maybe he just wants sexual things? I exhale.

“We’re sneaking out,” he declares in a low voice.

Excuse me?

His gaze goes to the window, then back to me. His lips curve into a sneer. “Unless you’re afraid.”

Iamafraid—but I also don’t want to admit that.

Can’t.

So that’s how I find myself dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie he tossed at me, climbing down the trellis after him. It was a stretch to even reach it in the first place. It involved reaching my leg out of the window and feeling for it with my toe. Then repeating with my hand, then my other leg.

Caleb jumps to the ground below me. I move faster, the fear of being left behind striking through me.

I don’t know what happens.

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