Page 21 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

“Mr. Jenkins.” I draw him closer. “Margo isn’t feeling well. I think I should escort her to the nurse.”

He comes over and puts his hand on her shoulder.

She doesn’t flinch.

She doesn’t even twitch.

My eyebrows hike up, and I look from his hand to his face and back to her.

He leans down. “You okay, hon?”

“Just a little woozy,” she says. “I think the past week is catching up to me.”

He nods, sympathetic.

I want to strangle him. Unusual for me, since I generally like the guy. He’s down to earth and charming, a teacher without being a pain in the ass. People respect him.

But this goes beyond respect.

“Caleb will take you to the nurse. Let me know if you decide to go home, I’ll write a slip.”

She nods and stands.

I take her arm, pinching just above the elbow, and lead her out of the room. Instead of going to the nurse, we veer into the courtyard. There’s a door in the corner that goes to the greenhouse, propped open by a rock.

Students come in here to pass the time. The smell of weed seeps out, but it’s silent as we walk up. I guide her inside and let go, letting my gaze rake her up and down. We’re alone in here. It’s our own private world.

“My, my,” I drawl. I clench my fists in an effort not to do something stupid. “Didn’t think you’d have the guts to bone a teacher, Sheep.”

She blanches. “Excuse me?”

“You and Mr. Jenkins. Mighty close. I can see why you wouldn’t want me to make your life hell.”

She snorts, turning away from me.

I grab the back of her neck, swinging her back at me and pinning her to my chest. I capture both of her wrists behind her back.

Her little body feels good on mine. Like temptation.

“Tell me, how good of a lay is he? Does he have a giant dick? Cuddle you after—”

“He’s my foster dad,” she snarls. She struggling against my hold. “Let me go.”

“No,” I snap, just so I have a second to process. I reappraise her. “Foster dad.”

“Caleb,” she pants. She’s working up a sweat trying to get away from me. It turns me on that she’s such a wreck over being this close to me. I back her into a tree, her spine hitting it hard. Her eyes widen.

I release her wrists and trail my hand up, over the side of her breast, to her red, red cheeks. They’ll be redder when I’m done with her.

“You afraid, love?”

“Stop calling me that.” She tips her head away from me.

“I think you secretly like it.”

“Is this because I said you lost?” She wriggles in my arms.

I shove my hips forward, showing her exactly what I think about that. Her eyes widen, and she goes perfectly still.

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