Page 25 of They Call Me Wicked

“Who wants to take some bets on what’s in there? My vote is it’s some kind of body part.” Kai’s tone is enthusiastic, but his aura tells a different story. It’s all caution and fury, a weird combination if I’ve ever felt one.

“We’re not taking bets. Everyone step back, I’ll open it.” Nic commands right before I hear the snap of latex, causing my brows to crinkle.

“Do you seriously walk around with gloves in your pocket?”

“Si, psíquica.Now step the fuck back.” I choose not to argue with him this time, I honestly really don’t want to be near the box anymore and I’m quietly grateful at this moment that I’m blind as a penis snake and I don’t have to be the one to open it.

Stepping back, I almost trip over something behind me, but strong arms snag me from the air and don’t let go. Instead of leaning away from them and continuing my independent streak, I lean into Kai’s frame as he offers me his silent comfort. Not an ounce of pity rolls off of his aura as he snuggles me further under his arms with his front flush against my back, just determination and anticipation.

I think we all want to see what’s in the box. Even if Ezra doesn’t outrightfeelit. I’m starting to think the motherfucker is a master meditator. Like he’s in a constant state of forced tranquility. That, or he’s somehow trained in the ways of blocking his aura, a skill that my nana never fails to chastise me over not picking up.

One of these days, I am going to ask him.

“Is it a bomb?” I suddenly blurt out as the thought occurs to me. “I didn’t hear any ticking, but that could be just a movie thing, right? Do bombs actually tick or, like, beep? Does anyone know? I once watched this documentary about a man that disarmed one by simply guessing which wire to cut. I mean, I listened to it, seeing as I can’t see anything. But on it they played ticking noises as they reenacted the moment he did it. If-”

“Wicked.” Nic’s smooth tone interrupts me, his aura vexed.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Right.” I mime zipping my lips before clasping my hands in front of me, unable to stop myself from bouncing in place. Kai’s arms bear down more firmly on my shoulders, yet I still manage to keep wiggling.

“Keep rubbing your ass against my dick and I might take that as an invitation,” Kai roughly whispers in my ear, the heat of his breath tingling the side of my neck. I let out a squeak when I realize that, yes, my ass is surely rubbing against the front of his pants and his soldier is totally rising to the occasion. I jump away from his grip, knocking my hip right into the side of my kitchen island, bringing reactionary tears to my eyes at the radiating pain it invokes.

“Will you two knock it the fuck off?” Nic snarls, his patience stretched thinner than a balding man’s hairline.

I rub at my hip absently while I press my lips into a firm line. Stepping away from the island, I move to sit at the dining room table, leaving behind the suffocating cloud of masculinity and testosterone fueled anger with a lining of lust from Kai. It’s not like I can see anyways, so I might as well get comfortable.

I think I’m going to lose my damn mind before all of this is over.

I hear the telltale sounds of cardboard scraping together as the box is opened, but no other sounds come. “Guys? What is it?”

Silence.

8

“Seriously? Tell me what the fuck is going on!” Irritation swells in me when they don’t answer, making me feel like a thousand fire ants are nipping at every inch of my skin, itching and burning.

“It’s…” Kai starts to say something, but trails off.

“What? What is it?” I stand and move back to the island, pushing between Kai and Nic. Reaching out, I grab for the box, but a hand snags mine from the air before I can reach inside of it to feel around.

“Nic, let me go.” His grip tightens when I try to pull away, but he says nothing. So, I turn to the one person who always tells it like it is, hoping the brick wall won’t fail me now. “Ezra?”

Rustling reaches my ears as Ezra slides the box towards him across from us and rummages around inside. “Photos. A lot of them.” He slaps pile after pile of thick photographs onto the counter before pausing. “And another small box. This one has a bow, looks like a present.” He grunts out the words before more rustling and ripping fills the space.

“What’s in that one?” I try to ignore the photos for the moment, distracting myself with the mystery.

“A pair of sunglasses.”

I let out a squeal before launching forward and snagging the much smaller and smoother box out of his hand. Reaching in, I carefully pull out the sunglasses, running my hands over the cool metal frames and memorizing the shape of them.

“Aviators! Good ones! Thick, well made, no snags or lift on the frame bits. It’s like the damn Bentley of sunglasses! All smooth and luxurious. What brand are they? Does it say? Oh my God, it doesn’t even matter. Holy shit, these are amazing!” I giggle, my heart flip-flopping in my chest as I remove my now shabby feeling set from my face and toss them on the counter before ever so carefully placing the new ones on my face.

“Fuck!” I literally moan out, my hands rubbing around my head and getting familiar with the new pair and how they feel. “It’s like they were made for me!”

“Is she seriously getting off on a pair of sunglasses?” Kai scratches at his head, based on the coarse sound that reaches my ears, his voice perplexed. “From her stalker?”

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