When he pushes up and spins on his knees to face me, his crotch eye level with my face, he slowly starts to move his shirt up. As he reveals each deliciously hard ab, I can hear the screams around us getting louder.
I hear the music increase in tempo as he leans forward, dropping his shirt and covering his beautiful body. I stand there in shock as he pulls the lollipop back up from my drink and presses the cold, wet candy against my lips. They part without conscious thought to take the lollipop inside my mouth.
The song ends and he gives me a wink as he pulls the candy from my mouth and into his own before he jumps from the bar to the space in front of me. I feel lightheaded when he leans down and runs his nose against the shell of my ear, making me gasp.
“You.Are.Mine,” he growls before taking my earlobe between his lips and biting my flesh roughly between his teeth. A moan rumbles from deep in his chest and his breath echoes in my ear.
And what do I do?
I stand there and come, again, from just the simplest of touches.
Well, fuck me.
“STOP MOVING,” I GROAN AND pull my covers over my head as I pray for my stomach to stop swirling.
“I’m not moving, the world is,” Nikki rasps from behind me and rips the covers from my face to cocoon herself in some weird blanket burrito.
She wiggles some more and the movement makes my stomach instantly revolt. I jump from the bed, almost tripping over where Bam is laying on the floor. I’m sure if I could see the weird dance I make to keep from stumbling to the ground, I would laugh, but instead, my eyes start to water as I run through my dark bedroom and into to the bathroom. My knees slam on the ground so hard it feels like my teeth rattle in my mouth. Ignoring the pain, I lift the lid and vomit violently.
“Oh, God!” I hear Nikki scream and the sounds of her rushing from the bedroom. I can hear her own sounds of being sick echo through my house and hope she, at least, made it to the guest bathroom before losing the contents of her stomach.
Long, agonizing minutes later, I finally feel like I can move my head from the toilet. I drop to my butt and lean against the wall as I test my ability to move without getting sick again.
Slowly, I crawl on my hands and knees until I reach the bed. Bam gives me a sniff before ignoring me to go back to sleep. Lifting my arm, I glance at the clock next to my bed and see that it’s just past four in the morning. With a groan, I reach up and pull my comforter down from the bed before curling up next to Bam’s furry body as the world continues to spin.
I fall back to sleep just as I hear Nikki stumble back to the bed. She mumbles about having no covers, but then her snores fill the air, and I join her a beat later.
I hear my phone vibrating against my nightstand. Peeling open my eyes, I see that the sunlight is now shining through the slats in my blinds. Feeling marginally better, I reach up and grab my phone without moving much of my body.
“’Lo?” I utter into the phone.
“Be quiet,” Nikki grumbles.
“Well, don’t you two sound pleasant this morning,” my sister practically sings in my ear.
“Do you have to be so loud?” I question.
She laughs and I pull the phone from my ear. “Get up and drink tons of water, brat. Take some Advil and trust me when I tell you that you’ll feel better with something bland in your stomach.”
“There is no way in hell I’m putting anything in my stomach,” I force out when just the thought makes my stomach revolt.
“I’m on the way.” She sighs and hangs up.
I drop the phone and curl back up with Bam.
This time, instead of getting a little peaceful sleep, my visions are full of Nate. That kiss. That dance. And his words.
By the time my sister is poking me with her foot, I was so worked up I was seconds away from shoving my hand down my sleep shorts and taking care of my arousal.
He’s put some voodoo curse on me.
My body seems to be stuck in some sort of Nate-induced provocation of lust and need.
“Time to get up, Em!”
I jump at Maddi’s outburst and glare up at her.
“Here,” she says and thrusts a huge bottle of water in my face.
I take it with greed-fueled need, as the dryness in my mouth seems to intensify at the sight of water.
“Slow down,” she says when I take huge pulls and gulps of water, the excess running from the sides of my mouth and onto the top of my shirt. “You’re going to get sick if you drink that fast. Slow down and take these,” she stresses, pulling the bottle away from me and pushing two pills into my mouth before pressing the water back to my lips.
She continues to stand over me until I’ve drunk almost half of the bottle before giving me a piece of toast. I give her a look of disbelief—doubting I’ll be able to actually keep that down—but I take it and slowly nibble. By the time I had finished the second piece, I was feeling less zombie-like and closer to a lukewarm human.
“Better?” she asks knowingly.
“Don’t be a bragger.”