Page 1 of Wicked Dreams

Prologue

Donovan

Ten Years Ago

“Tessa?” I called out to her. My deep voice echoed in the darkened room, not absorbed by the bed draped in red, silk sheets. “Come to me, Tessa.”

Like she’d been listening for my call, she pulled back the sheer, black curtain, stepping into the room. She wore nothing but a white, lacy thong and matching bra, giving me a full view of her flat stomach and curvy hips. Her breasts threatened to spill over the cups of her bra, and her dark eyes burned with passion while her lips parted with her heavy breathing.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Tessa,” I cooed, stepping up to her and pulling her against my chest where our lips found one another’s. My hand cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss as I walked her backward.

The candles burning on the bedside tables flickered as we fell onto the bed, wrapped up in one another.

I got to my knees, sliding my fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. “I was afraid you were going to stand me up, baby.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s our anniversary.” Her soft hands landed on mine, urging me to push her panties down her long, sexy legs.

A grin spread across my face as the thin material slid below her knees, revealing her blushing core to me. “One month exactly.” I tossed the lace to the floor. “Tell me, how would you like to celebrate?” My hands softly landed on her parted knees, slowly sliding up the inside of her thighs to the junction between her legs. Using my thumbs, I parted her lips to see her glistening folds.

She smiled, cheeks burning with excitement. “I think you know what I want to do with our time. We don’t have long—we never do.” She pushed herself up and reached behind her, unclasping her bra. Her big breasts spilled from the cups as she dropped her bra on the floor.

I licked my lips, more than ready to take from her, and pushed my boxers down my hips. “Are you sure you want to give yourself to me? We’ve only been seeing one another for a month.”

She flung herself back, arms landing above her head as her blue eyes locked on mine. “I’ve never wanted anything more, Donovan.”

A half-smirk pulled at my lips as I lowered myself to her. As my mouth found hers, my aching dick twitched with excitement, ready to push forward and claim what was rightfully mine—what I so desperately needed.

My hands massaged her thighs, working their way up her hips to her breasts. When I rolled her nipple between my fingers, she let out a soft moan that filled the room. My dick pressed against her opening, and I rolled my hips, allowing myself to glide between her slick folds.

“Donovan, please. I have to go soon,” she begged, wanting more of me.

I pulled back and slammed into her, filling her completely. Her muscles tightened around me as she let out a loud, appreciative moan. I held her hips, pulling her into my thrusts. My hands squeezed, causing bits of naked flesh to bubble up between my fingers. I closed my eyes and memories washed over me: the heat, the smoke, crimson lips, and perfectly smooth skin, her words.“I’ll always love you, Donovan.”

The memories were the only way I could get through it. The only way I could survive. They kept the flicker of hope alive in my cold, dead heart. Futile as it was to hope we’d be reunited someday. For all I knew, her soul had been snuffed out. Not like he’d tell me he did it. The one who betrayed him. But if he had, I’d know. I’d feel it. So, hope sprung eternal.

My release rose to the surface, forcing me to double my speed until I’d drained myself of every drop. When I opened my eyes, eyes I knew were blazing red, Tessa lay lifeless in front of me: eyes closed and blue lips parted as if she’d been gasping for air.

I withdrew and released my hold on her as I stood from the bed, causing her limp legs to collapse to either side. Remorsefully, I tugged the sheet up over her cooling body and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Tessa. Just know I didn’t have a choice.”

Olivia

Present Day

“Liv, please!” Anita, my best friend for the last ten years, whined into the phone. “All you have to do is show up and get me. We won’t stay. I promise! I drank too much, and my parents willkillme if they find out. Please!” Her whine was slightly slurred this time around.

“I really hate you right now. You know that, right?” I grumbled as I kicked my floral bedsheets down my legs and shuffled to my closet to grab something that wasn’t sleeping attire.

“No, you don’t, or you wouldn’t be digging through your closet right now to get your clothes on,” she retorted, her words strung together too quickly as she let out a hiccup and a giggle.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I sighed. She let out another short giggle before the phone went dead. I frowned down at it and shook my head before tossing it onto the bed. Grabbing my jeans, I hastily stepped out of my red plaid pajama bottoms, tossing them beside my phone as I pulled on my jeans. I figured my white tank top was fine, but I made sure to grab a gray zip-up sweater. I had no intentions of staying anyway. I never did and never would.

Truth be told, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of high school. Being the twerp had never really gotten me anywhere in life, unless good grades and a reputation for being a loser counted. Anita, on the other hand, had it going on. Even if she wasn’t Miss Popularity, she was the life of the party, and that basically equated to the same thing. Her dark skin, long legs, D-cup breasts, and wild child attitude made her the object of most of our classmates’ affections, chicks included.

Still grumbling, I snatched my car keys off the dresser and went outside to where Old Faithful waited. My mom had given me her old Buick when I’d turned sixteen. That thing took a hit and kept on ticking. Literally. She’d been rear ended twice in it, and I’d hit a deer once. To say she was a little banged up was an understatement.

Maneuvering the car out into the street, I set out to go pick up my drunk friend. It was so dark out that without my headlights, I wouldn’t have been able to see two feet in front of me. A glance at the clock told me it was well after one in the morning.

“Christ, Anita,” I muttered, accelerating. I hated when she did this. I wasn’t the party girl type. I hated being around people from school. Most of the time, I was tormented for not being like everyone else, and I wasn’t even sure whatthateven meant. It wasn’t like I was some grotesque circus freak with three eyes and a beard. I was just quiet. I hid beneath my layers of clothes. My long, flaming-red hair concealed my face—the face that seemed to garner attention wherever I went. And it was mostly bad, unwanted attention when it came to my classmates. When I cried myself to sleep, it was my mom’s voice in my head telling me what she’d told me a hundred times in person, “You’re just too pretty, and people didn’t know how to deal with that. Otherworldly.”That was the word she used to describe my pale, ivory skin; red hair; plump, pink lips; and big, green eyes.

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