Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)(9)

“God doesn’t have anything to do with it, Ivy Divy.”

“Can you just answer my question?”

He tilted his head to the side as he buzzed out over the coffee table. “What question?”

Taking a deep breath, I counted to ten, then reached over and snatched up the remote. Tink shouted like I had taken away his favorite toy and shattered it in front of him. All I did was pause the TV. I held on to the remote. “I was thinking—”

“That’s what I smelled!”

I stared at him.

“You know, the smell of wheels burning as they try to turn over . . .” He drifted up toward the ceiling and rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Carry on.”

My fingers tightened around the slender remote. “I was thinking that if the prince can sense me, why hasn’t he showed up here?”

“I don’t know.” Tink came down to the coffee table and started marching across it. “I’m not the prince, but if I was the prince, I’d be buying time.”

“Buying time?” I scooted to the edge of the couch.

“Yeah, because he’s got to win you over.” Tink swiped up the straw he’d had in his Coke. It was nearly the size of him. “That’s basically what he has to do if he wants to impregnate you.”

I cringed, like a full body cringe. “Please do not use the word impregnate ever again.”

“Why? That’s what he wants to do.” He started dancing with the straw, the kind of dancing you see in the clubs. Hips gyrating all over the place. “He knows coercing or tricking you isn’t going to get the deed done, so he’s probably trying to learn how not to be a sexed up dickhead.”

“Sexed up dickhead?” I repeated.

“Uh-huh.” Tink dipped the straw as one would a dancer. “Remember when I was telling you how I saw the prince getting it on with three females once? He’s totes sexed up. And he’s a dickhead. In other words, he has no empathy or compassion. No humanity.”

“Most fae don’t.”

Tink twirled the straw. “Yeah, but the ancients are worse. They’re as far away from human as you can get. He’s going to have to work on wooing you.”

I slowly shook my head. “That’s . . .” There were no words.

“That’s what I’d do.” Tink dropped the straw and whipped around toward me. “Or he’s plotting something major and any moment he’s going to knock down the front door and storm the place.”

“Wow.” A fine shiver curled down my spine. “That’s really a relaxing thought.”

He zipped over to the couch and sat on the arm. He tipped his head back and stared up at me. “Don’t worry. I’m here to protect you.”

I just looked at him, because other than ordering shit off of Amazon, the only strength he had was the unique ability to annoy the crap out of me while somehow still managing to be endearing.

Tink grinned. “Trust me, Ivy. The Prince is not going to want to mess with me.”

~

My body was the first to wake, and I was slow to open my eyes. At first I didn’t understand why I felt so hot. I could feel the blankets pushed down to my hips and my shirt was bunched up. Cool air caressed my belly, but pressed to my side was a hard, warm body, and a rough, calloused palm glided back and forth below my navel. Soft lips brushed my temple.

Ren.

Air caught in my lungs as every sense I had fully awakened. He was in bed with me, and I wasn’t sure when that happened. Normally, he was off on the weekend, but with members down, it was all hands on deck. I’d fallen asleep Saturday night a little after midnight, and he’d still been out. Home. It felt so strange and wonderful to think of Ren and home in the same sentence.

“Ivy.” He murmured my name in that deep, smooth voice of his. His hand stopped at the loose band on my pajama bottoms, with the tips of his fingers just under them.

A deep flutter kicked around in my belly as I tipped my head back. “Hey.”

It was dark in the room, and I had no idea what time it was, but I had a feeling he was smiling, and I bet his dimples were out. “I didn’t want to wake you.” His hand slid down an inch and the muscles low in my stomach tightened. “But you were making these sounds.”

I was super close to making all kinds of sounds. “I was?”

“Yeah.” He brushed his lips over the curve of my cheek as I reached over, placing my hand on his hard stomach. The muscles and skin seemed to jump in response. “These soft, little, breathy moans.”

My eyes widened. “Really?”

“I would not lie about something that was so f*cking sexy.” His hand was venturing further south. “I’d just about dozed off when you started. Those moans went straight to my cock.”

Heat swept through my blood. “Sorry?”

He chuckled and then the sound faded away in the darkness. “I want to kiss you.”

Air lodged in my throat. I wanted that. “You don’t need my permission for that. Just assume it’s always granted.”

“I like the sound of that, but your lip—”

“My lips are fine,” I told him as I lowered my hand, loving the way his body stiffened against mine when I reached the band of his briefs. “Actually, they’re not okay. They’re lonely and they feel abandoned by—”