Page 37 of Hell House
I shove his knee, but it barely moves.
“Then I’d know the chord. Duh.”
“If I tell you the chord now, how do I get you to come back?”
“Luring me with your siren song guitar worked the first time, maybe try that again.”
“Is that all it would take to get you to come back to my lair? Play some tunes on my guitar and you’ll come running? Wouldn’t that make you, my groupie?”
I roll my eyes. “I am not a groupie. Why are you down here in the basement like a troll dungeon anyway?”
“Why are you up in the tower like a forgotten princess?”
“Touché.”
“This house only has so many bedrooms, so we took which ones were available. I got the short straw and ended up down here with my roommate Sloan. Hence all the wrappers and cans.” He gestures to the mess around us.
“Well, I have a project for business that I need to work on soon, thanks for teaching me whatever chord that was.” I stand up and head for the door, careful to not knock into the small pile of cans that I’d hit earlier.
“Salem?” The way his gravely voice calls my name has me stopping straight in my tracks. I turn facing him and see a vulnerable look cross his scarred face. I hitch my eyebrow waiting for him to speak. He rubs his scruffed up cheeks.
“Do you by any chance sing?”
“Sing?”
“You know the thing where you make music with your mouth?” What a fucking smart ass, but two can play this game.
I tap my black polished finger against my chin. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.”
He stands up to his full height, his head mere inches from the low ceiling. He prowls closer to me and I feel my heart speed up. He leans over me, bracing his muscled forearms above my head boxing me into the wall. He grips my chin in his marred-up hand and looks down at me.
“You’ve got a sassy fucking tongue on you.”
“All the better to lick with.” I say starring directly into his whiskey-colored eyes. I see the moment my words register, his pupils darkening with desire. He takes a step closer, his Doc Martins hitting the tips of my Converse.
“And what exactly would you be licking?”
I grab him by the shirt and tug him down to me, lining my mouth up to his ear and whisper, “Ice cream.”
I push him square in the chest surprising him enough that he steps back.
I send him a wink as I exit his room. I see his mouth drop before I leave, my steps carrying me halfway up the stairs as I smirk to myself before I hear him calling after me.
“Hey, wildcat?”
“Yeah?”
“What siren song should I play to get you to come back down here again?”
I smile to myself, “How about,My Guitar Gently Weeps.”
“Done.”
I run up the stairs, heading to my tower room to put on something different. I wonder briefly why he was so interested if I could sing, and if I should tell him the answer is yes. I fucking love to sing, but usually only do so in the privacy of a shower, or alone in a car with only me to hear. The tower stairs wind up, narrow and creaking.
I groan, remembering that I have to deal with Pierce today for our project. I wonder if he’ll bring up our little cuddling session that had me in knots for the rest of the day. To be honest, I’m still in knots and all worked up, especially after that encounter with Walker. The way he leaned over me, had my insides fluttering. Damn my broken vibrator.
My legs burn by the time I get up to my room, but then I’d rather it be this than the million flights I had in the dorm room. I go through my small possessions trying to decide what to wear. I’d put off talking to my grandmother, feigning a headache to Skye the other day when she went shopping for new school outfits and ear plugs. Thankfully, she didn’t inquire further, but it only bought me a day or two of putting off this conversation. I sigh, leaving my leggings on and pull on a maroon thermal long sleeved shirt that I’d borrowed from Skye. She is slightly more booby than me, but it still clings to my frame outlining my curves. I make sure my hair is still up and head off to deal with Pierce and our business group. This should be all kinds of great fun.
