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My lust-drunk senses try to send me a message, but alcohol and excitement mute them.
We don’t have a connection, I think as I’m pulling him on top of me. I guess sex is enough? Good, panty-soaking, mind-blowing, once-in-a-lifetime sex that is.
“You taste new. Untapped.”
“Mm, Ricky.”
What the hell does that mean? Tapped? What am I, a maple tree?
Well, I’m sticky and sweet.
Maybe he means a virgin?
“I’ve done it before, I’m not that innocent. Just a loner—well, I used to be.” My hands pull at his black button down shirt, and I bite my lip as I feel those magical ridges above his hip bones. Fuck, this guy is built like a Greek statue. “Are you? A loner?”
Okay, I lied a little. Sex can be almost everything. I want a little connection beyond the looks. I don’t want to end up like Aunt Karen, trailing after guys with money and nothing else for the rest of my life. I don’t want to end up taking the slutty version of the shallow path.
Ricky tears his shirt over his head and grins down on me, licking his lips.
I shiver. His skin is so bright, eyes so big and dark, almost like they’re glowing, too.
“A loner? Someone like me? Can’t happen, baby. Gotta eat. Can’t take too much. Sorry, that’s the way it is, unless you’re into sharing?”
I’m confused, and my stomach prickles in a different way this time. Eat? Sharing? I open my mouth to ask a question, but only a sighing breath comes out.
“Oooh, you’re almost ripe.” He leans down with a giggle and smiles as he kisses me.
I don’t like it, suddenly.
The kiss feels amazing, but other things don’t. My brain. My lungs. My voice. Everything is pleasure—but drugged.
Did he drug me?
Why would he do that? Or need to? I wanted to sleep with him! “Ricky?” I groan.
He stops. “Libby? What’s wrong?”
“Dizzy.”
“Oh. Well, you get used to it. Incubus pheromones can get overpowering.”
“Incubus? The band?”
A look of confusion comes over his face, and then it hardens. “It doesn’t matter. Incubus, human, you’re wet.”
“N-n. Kissing is okay. For now.” I don’t want to do more yet. I want to slow down. Why can’t I make sense? Make words?
“Kissing is all I need.” Ricky smiles and leans down, mouth open, eyes closing.
The smile is more hungry than loving. More hungry than sweet.
Ricky kisses me and the world feels blurry. Wonderful, hot, wet, and blurry.
My body likes it. My brain hates it.
What am I going to do?
And what’s that noise outside of my door?
