Home > Her Wicked Heart (Her Wicked Heart #1)(44)

Her Wicked Heart (Her Wicked Heart #1)(44)
Author: Ember Casey

It was never like this with Ian, a little voice reminds me. Even at the beginning.

I haven’t forgotten about my call with Ian this morning, though God knows there’s been plenty to distract me since then. I can never forget. I need to remember that I can’t go around using people and expect to get off scot-free.

And what about this thing with Ward? Am I using him, too?

I look up at his face, so open and welcoming beneath the starlight. His black eye’s looking a little better tonight. And the corner of his mouth’s turned up in that rakish way.

My heart flutters. What is this thing between us? I mean, I’m not an idiot. It’s not like Ward is taking me out to fancy dinners or telling me I’m beautiful or anything like that. Heck, it wasn’t two weeks ago that he was in a fight over some other chick.

I know enough about men to spot when one thinks you’re girlfriend material versus just wanting to get into your pants. Ward wants sex, and he knows I want it, too. If he’s not emotionally involved, then I have no reason to worry about falling into another situation like the one with Ian.

But if I’m emotionally involved… Well, I deserve it if I end up hurt.

Ward kisses me once more.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’m prepared this time.”

I smile. “Good. I thought I might have to throttle you.”

“It’s only been a day! Give a guy a break.”

“I’m not very patient.”

“Me either.” He pulls me close again, and this time he takes his sweet time exploring my mouth with his tongue. My head starts to buzz, and it’s all I can do to remember to hold on to the wine.

“I’ve brought a little refreshment,” I tell him breathlessly. I disentangle myself just enough to raise the bottle. “Huntington Manor’s finest chardonnay.”

He grins. “How much more of this crap are you going to make me drink?”

“If you don’t want any, then I guess I’m getting tipsy all by myself.” This time I even remembered to swipe one of the corkscrews, so I don’t have to decimate the cork trying to get it open.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ward says. “If you’re drinking, I’m drinking.”

“Glad we could come to an agreement.” I smile up at him as I open the bottle. The summer sky is as clear and bright as it was last night, so I see the glimmer of good humor in his eyes. There’s heat there, too, as fiery and bright as the feeling deep inside of me, and I keep my gaze locked on his as I take a swig from the bottle.

The wine is disgusting, of course. It’s so dry that I swear it scratches my throat on the way down.

Ward laughs. “That good, huh?”

“Your turn.” I pass him the bottle.

He takes a deep breath before giving it a try. When the wine hits his tongue, his eyes nearly bug out of his head. He makes a big show of swallowing.

“This is the worst one yet,” he says. “Did they strain this through a garbage bag?”

“Just remember that every sip you take is a dollar out of Carolson’s pocket.” Only a drop in the bucket, sure, but it’s still plenty satisfying.

Ward nods, and his next gulp is longer. I take the opportunity to look at him, really look at him.

Is it just wishful thinking, these emotions moving inside of me? Is it just longing for that thing that Calder has with his fiancée? Something to help me through this mess inside my head?

I had that chance with Ian—Ian, who I knew loved me. What’s different? Have I changed? Become more sentimental? More desperate? Or is it Ward? Is it enough that he’s different? That he’s not putting pressure on me to feel something or to heal in a certain way?

“Hey,” I say suddenly. “What do you think about a little change in scenery?” I reach out and take the wine bottle from his hand.

His eyebrow lifts. “What did you have in mind?”

“You’ll see.” I take his free hand in mine. He’s still wearing his sling—we’ll have to take care of that. I turn and lead him down the path, deeper into the maze.

“Do you know where you’re going?” he asks after a moment.

I realize that my steps are a little too deliberate, that I’m making it a little too obvious that I’m familiar with this place. But I don’t care.

“Afraid we’re going to get lost?”

He stops and drags me back into his arms. His lips brush against my neck and his hand slips beneath my shirt, skimming across the bare skin of my stomach.

“I could think of worse things,” he murmurs into my ear.

Deeper and deeper we go, moving between the high, dark hedge walls until the path opens up ahead of us into a small clearing with a large, trickling fountain in the middle. We’ve reached the very center of the maze.

I glance up at Ward. I can’t tell from his expression whether he’s been to this part of the maze before, but considering he knew about my secret spot and the hidden passageways in the house, I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew some of the estate’s other secrets, too.

I release his hand and step forward into the clearing. When I reach the fountain, I sit down on the wide stone lip of the pool. Ward is still standing at the entrance to the clearing, watching me. His expression is suddenly thoughtful.

“Don’t you want some of this ridiculously expensive wine?” I say, raising the bottle.

He gives a little half-smile, but that’s not enough for me. With my free hand, I undo the buttons of my blouse one by one. When my shirt’s open, I lean back slightly and hold the bottle over my chest. I tip the wine, letting a bit of the cool liquid drip down over my chest. It hits me just below the collarbone and dribbles down the skin between my breasts.

Ward isn’t playing any games. He’s by my side in an instant, and he drops to his knees and catches me by the waist.

“Thirsty?” I tease.

He responds by lowering his face to my chest. The first flick of his warm tongue sends a tremor through me, and I set the wine bottle on the ground so I can raise both hands to his thick hair. He moves slowly, kissing and licking his way down between my breasts, sucking up every bit of wine from my skin. When he gets to my bra, he hooks a finger beneath it and tugs the band lower. His tongue flicks against the side of one of my breasts, then the other.

“Does it taste better this time?” I ask breathlessly.

He chuckles against my skin. “The best wine I’ve ever tasted. In fact, I think I’d like a little more.”

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