Wanting by Lynn Burke

Addilyn

Not fifteen minutes into our girls’ night watching Stolen and Gideon sauntered into our mini movie theatre, the usual energy of him in close proximity raising the hairs on my arms.

“Get out!” I snapped and shoved popcorn into my mouth, pulling my attention off him crossing the threshold back toward the massive flatscreen.

“He’s fine, Addy,” Jenny said. She patted her side of the sectional. “Come on over here, handsome.”

Growling beneath my breath, I scowled at my friend in the dim lighting—the mood we’d set with the overheads.

“Handsome, huh?” He flashed his damn dimples at my friend.

Smirking, she shrugged.

Enter that weird twisting again. Was it…jealousy?

Nope. No way.

Gideon plopped his gray sweats-covered ass down beside her, lounging back and showcasing the bulge he didn’t contain with underwear.

My core pulsed at the thought of easy access, and if Jenny’s side-eye glances were any indication, she thought of the exact same thing I did.

The feeling in my stomach grew.

Okay, so definitely jealousy. I didn’t like how he sat close to her, his thigh a breath away from hers. I also didn’t like how she shifted as though getting comfortable—brushing her leg against his and leaving it there.

His T-shirt went tight over his chest and shoulders as he stretched an arm across the back of the couch. Around her damn shoulders, even if he didn’t rest on them.

I imagined Jenny swooned, but I turned back to the screen, fighting off the ridiculous green-eyed monster and the images of what his body looked like beneath his sweats and shirt. How his muscles strained with every upward thrust of his hips, sliding his length through his fist. My panties.

“Stolen?” Gideon asked, bringing my wayward mind back to the theatre.

“Yep,” Jenny answered while I shifted to relieve the damp discomfort between my thighs.

“Isn’t this that movie about a kidnapping and the captor falling for the guy who stole her out of her damn bed?”

“Yep.” Jenny again.

Gideon chuckled, and I could feel his stare even though I refused to give him the time of day.

I shoved more popcorn into my mouth, staring hard at the images flashing over the screen.

“You two are seriously getting off on this shit, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Shut up!” I yelped around my mouthful of food, a few pieces spewing from my lips.

“It is hot,” Jenny admitted quietly.

“Pervs.” Gideon laughed. “I’ll bet you’ve been Googling the shit out of the stuff your mommies have been keeping you away from all these years on Addilyn’s new cell.”

Neither of us said a word, and heat flooded my face.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” His tone suggested arrogance. “So do you finger each other once you’re all hot and bothered or take care of yourselves?”

“Sick bastard,” I muttered, wishing Mother had heard him say such a thing. But yeah, he got it right on the last part, and the realization he wondered over me touching myself made my core pulse.

“I like guys, thank you very much.” Jenny backhanded him in the arm.

“Ouch!” He rubbed at his arm as though she’d actually hurt him. “Just looking for some dick spanking material. Two young things like you getting all wet over losing your virginal purity…good shit right there.”

“Would you please leave,” I stated through gritted teeth, finally casting him a glare I wished would burn him to cinders on the spot.

Gideon held my stare with a knowing look, all hooded—hot and full of lust. He blatantly adjusted his groin, squeezing a little more than necessary while moving against Jenny’s leg enough that she blatantly stared at his hand wrapped around his balls.

His gaze narrowed at me even further, and I realized I scowled at the two of them. Touching.

I turned away with a huff, feigning indifference I certainly didn’t feel.

“Imagine that.” He chuckled, and I cursed myself, knowing he noticed my…jealousy. “This kidnapping shit and the scent of turned on pussy filling this room…yeah.” Gideon stood, still holding his dick, the jackass. “I think I’ll go rub one out now.” He sauntered off with a quiet, intentional groan, and Jenny’s wide-eyed stare lingered on his ass until the door shut.

Cheeks pink, she finally glanced at me. “What?”

“You still want to climb his body like a tree?” I snapped.

“Oh hell yes,” she whispered and clutched a pillow to her belly, eyes hazed over and clueless to what had gone down between him and I.

My head suddenly ached. “You can have the jackass,” I hissed through my clenched teeth, even though the thought of the two of them together made my blood boil. I clicked up the TV volume and grabbed another handful of popcorn, hoping like hell he hadn’t really been able to smell the fact the movie, him, and his words about fingering had turned me on.

Getting ready at home for the wedding day from hell—and Mother had chosen the most butt-ugly dress in the most hideous color for my skin tone.

Yellow.

A puke yellow, which made no sense, considering how much vomit grossed her out. It wasn’t even bright or sunshiny like her usual yellows. More mustard than golden.

I looked like death.

But I still held my chin high and shoulders back while stepping lightly down the stairs toward the foyer below.

Both Gideon and his father waited at the foot, dressed in suits like the first day I’d met them. Mother’s soon-to-be husband had stood the test of time in my opinion, even though I still held onto the hope he’d get sick of her—even if his presence made her less of a bitch than normal. A small yellow rose bud was pinned to the lapel of his black suit coat, and he either chose or Mother insisted on the golden tie around his neck.

If only my dress had been closer in color to his tie…

Gideon wore black on black. Fitting for his soul, and damn, did he look mighty fine. Hair artfully mussed. Freshly shaven…and crinkling his nose.

“What the hell color is that dress?” he asked as I neared the foyer’s floor.

Heat flooded my face, and I watched my step the rest of the way down. “I hate yellow—it looks hideous on me,” I muttered, trusting his dad not to tell my mother what I thought of the dress she’d chosen for me.

“Damn right, it does,” Gideon agreed, making me feel ten times worse.

“Thanks for that,” I sassed with a sarcastic smile. “As if I don’t feel shitty enough already.”

“Gideon, go get in the limo while we wait for Ingrid,” Lloyd said, his tone not one to be refused.

The jackass hesitated but obeyed his father, and I let out a heavy exhale.

“I hate yellow too,” Lloyd stated quietly once the door shut behind Gideon, “but it’s your mother’s favorite color, and since it’s her day…” He shrugged lightly, his coat stretching tight over his shoulders as he smiled down at me with a look in his eyes that suggested a shared secret. “Some things just aren’t worth arguing over.”

My embarrassment eased a bit.

“If it’s any consolation—” he leaned toward me, his voice lowering, eyes not teasing yet full of a sense of lightness I didn’t understand “—I think you look absolutely ravishing.”

More heat flooded my face, and I found myself smiling for the first time in days. I expected he thought I was like a younger version of the woman he adored, and the idea warmed me. “Thank you.”

Lloyd offered a wink and nodded toward the door where one of the house staff held my winter coat. “Go on and bundle up. It’s chilly outside.”

I shrugged on my coat, ready for the door, and Lloyd’s murmured, “Beautiful,” turned me back around.

Mother stood at the top of her stairs in her white, silk wedding dress that must’ve cost a fortune. A beaded bodice hugged her torso, down over the flare of her hips, giving way to sheer material in layers to create a waterfall effect. Bright white as though she was pure like her daughter, but she’d brought enough men into her bed I knew the truth.

I wondered if Lloyd did—then told myself I didn’t give a shit.

He’d made his bed in hers and would be stuck with the consequences. I just hoped his kinder character would continue to rub off on Mother enough to make living with her less of a tedious task.

“Darling.” Lloyd held her hands and kissed her cheeks. “You look ravishing.”

My eyebrows pulling into a frown, I slipped into my coat one of the house staff held for me. Surely I wasn’t jealous he used the same compliment on me?

Pushing the strange feelings away by telling myself Lloyd was a fake, I lifted my chin and marched outside, preferring to wait in the cold for Mother and Lloyd rather than climb into the limo with Gideon whose gaze pebbled my skin even though I couldn’t see him through the tinted glass.

Jackasses. Both father and son.