Page 30 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

Kodiak frowns, his gaze searching mine.

“Well, then, they’re banished from our bedroom picnic.” He picks up the bag and tosses it in the trash. “Please tell me there’s something here you do like.”

I scan the candy, chocolate, and salty snacks. “Reese’s Pieces, please.”

He hands me the open bright orange and yellow bag. Only two-thirds of the bag remain. They smell like peanuts and candy and everything that is good in the world. I scoop out a handful then start discarding the orange and brown ones back into the bag.

“They don’t put an even number of each color in the bag.” Kodiak pours a handful of Sour Patch Kids into his mouth, chews, and swallows. “It’s like fifty percent orange, and twenty-five percent yellow and brown. You’re only getting one quarter of a bag in value, eating the yellow ones. That’s bad math.”

“Maybe.” I pop a yellow one in my mouth and crunch through the hard shell. “But I only like the yellow ones.”

“Weirdo.” He bumps my shoulder with his as an infomercial for a massage gun comes on. There’s a spark in the aqua side-glance he shoots my way that tells me he’s flirting and not at all being mean.

I settle into his presence like I’ve known him forever. One infomercial turns into another and then another while we munch on our bedtime snacks.

We make eye contact a couple of times. He really does have pretty eyes. They remind me of looking into a clear lake on a summer’s day. Calm. They almost bring me comfort.

“You don’t like Riot much, do you?” Kodiak asks.

At least they did, until he broke the silence.

“It’s more than that. He broke my heart. He fucked around on me. And…” I’m not ready to put the rest of it into words that could find their way back to Riot. He doesn’t need to know. Doesn’t deserve it. “Yeah, I hate him.”

“So why come back?” Kodiak offers me a Sour Strap.

I take one and bite the end of the long flat candy. “Easy. Nowhere else to go.”

“And no clothes, it seems.” His gaze runs over my bare legs. It’s happened a few times since I climbed in bed.

“I had clothes.” I miss my wardrobe. As slim as it is these days. “But there’s a good chance a very not nice guy is watching my place waiting for me to come back.”

“I’ll get them for you if you’d like.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Give me the address, I’ll go in the morning.”

We go back to watching infomercials in comfortable silence. Eventually my eyes grow too heavy to keep open, and his shoulder turns into a comfortable pillow. He pulls the covers over us and wraps an arm around my back. His fingers trailing up and down my side lulls me to sleep.

I wake up in the cool gray dawn from jumbled dreams. Maybe nightmares would technically be a better description. Dead bodies and being chased by a shadowy Marco who fills me with dread. It takes a few breaths to steady my pulse. My focus shifts to Kodiak’s hot body against my back which chases away the fear. But also leaves my clit throbbing.

Because I didn’t just dream of Marco, and the trouble I’m in. I dreamed of things more... sultry. Big hands all over me, teasing and caressing me. Taking me to the brink of sanity. Riot’s cold gaze locked on mine, watching…

The television is still on, though muted. The suite is quiet—the party apparently finished—except for the distant strains of a lone guitar. Kodiak’s big hand rests on my hip. Electric static spreads over my skin from that single point of contact.

I fantasize him inching that big hand of his between my thighs to help the ache inside me.

When he slides his fingers over my mound as if he can read my mind, I gently spread my knees.

He dips two fingers into the triangular gap, presses the blunt tips of them to my clit, and rubs a languorous circle.

I close my eyes and Riot’s cold stare from last night floods my vision. A whimper escapes me as my core clenches ruining my panties.

“My god, you’re a needy little thing.” Kodiak murmurs in my ear, stroking those strong fingers along my seam through the lace. “Let me take care of that for you?”

“Mmhmm.” I nod, blocking images of Riot from my mind. I don’t owe him anything. Except pain. Heartache. Maybe revenge.

Kodiak curls a finger into my panties and tugs them aside. He presses his thumb to my bare clit. That’s what I choose to concentrate on. The present and Kodiak’s fingers as he spears them inside me, twisting and curling them to touch my most sensitive spots. The ones that make my breaths quicken and my hips buck. My ass grinds against the erection at my back.