A Rivalry of Hearts (Fae Flings and Corset Strings, #1)

by Tessonja Odette

What…what the hell was that? Why am I so short of breath? Why do I feel like I’ve been roasted over hot coals? And what is this fier...

As soon as he steps inside my room, I close the door and march up to William. “What the hell do you⁠—”

and as he leans before me, hands planted on either side of my head, I’m struck by a vision of being pressed between two of him. The William before me and the warmth of his shadow against my back. Oh.

Oh, I’d like to write that down! What if the shadow was sentient? My mouth practically waters as I imagine the fabulous love scene that would make⁠—

But…what is he asking me? His proximity makes it impossible to remember where I even am or what the hell we were talking about.

He gives me a simpering look. “Cute. You mean like a puppy? How arousing.”

Is he serious? Does he really think I can have my pick of lovers? What an ignorant fool.

One of his hands balls into a fist against the wall, and a frustrated growl rumbles in his chest. “You know nothing about my bedfellow of choice.”

He lowers his head and blows out a slow sigh. “There are other ways to research. Safer ways. If you’re going to have meaningless sex with someone you don’t even like, then…” He finally lifts his head and meets my eyes again.

There’s heat in his gaze, mixed with something that reminds me of the vulnerability he showed me on the balcony. His next words send my pulse skittering. “Use me.” I blink at him, piecing his words together.

He steps closer, our bodies mere inches apart. “Use me,” he says, his...

Intellectual curiosity, of course. That’s all. I tell myself this, but the fluttering in my stomach says this might be more. This might be…desire.

Position me however you want and I’ll make sure it’s for more than academic study. I’ll let you find out exactly what touch you like best, what position, and then I’ll withhold it from you.

I’ll tease you, torment you, until you’re begging me, whimpering and whining like one of your blushing heroines. Just when you can’t take it anymore, I’ll give you what you want. I’ll touch you in every way you like. Then I’ll make you come.”

I bite my lip to stifle the gasp that rises to my throat. My breaths are sharp and short, my knees going limp. “Use me,” he whispers over my lips, and heavens above, I can’t remembe...

The fact remains that he kissed Jolene. Which means he’s attracted to her. She’s the one he wants to spend the night with.

Nah, he was picturing that it was you and not her

My fingers curl into fists, my heart raging against my ribs. I feel like I’m about to claw my way out of my skin.

“What do you think they’re doing?” I mutter as I run a hand through my hair, not caring how it falls.

“Is she really going to go through with this? The nerve! I told her she could have a free pass, but she chose him...

But fury over what? She’s in no danger. Am I simply annoyed that she didn’t fall for my seductions? My chest screams, Yes. Is that really it? I’m…jealous.

My heart echoes with every vision. Every memory. Thud. Thud. Thud. Even as my annoyance burns, so too does something else. It’s the pull. Longing. Desire. Want.

No, no, no. This isn’t possible. I can’t be attracted to her. I’m not attracted to… I’m not… “Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing my jaw with more force than necessary. How the hell did this happen?

The way I spoke to her. The offer I made. The things I said I’d do to her. The things I wanted to do to her. The things I still want to do to her. That was neither teasing nor protection. That was jealousy and desire.

For fuck’s sake, I no longer have the luxury of denial. I’m attracted to the weirdest woman I’ve ever met, and just acknowledging as much opens a chasm in my chest, one painful and pleasant at once.

Because that bastard was right. I wasn’t attracted to Archie. Not in the least. Sure, he was cute. Charming. The most adorable man I’ve met. Yet there was nothing between us that sparked desire. Nothing but thoughts of William. William! Of all people.

“Did that idiot never come back from the party?” Daphne mumbles from her curled-up position. “I only get promoted from intern to editorial assistant if he vouches for me. I’d prefer he wasn’t dead today.”

There’s no judgment in my tone. While I wouldn’t choose marriage over independence, the choice she’s making is a valid one.

If I’d been thinking straight when I returned to my room with Jolene last night, I could have forced myself to simply kiss the girl. Just a quick brush of my lips to ensure I remained tied with Edwina in our bet. Even a hug could have constituted physical intimacy.

But the fact remains that I was not thinking straight. I was thinking about Edwina. Obsessing, more like.

I didn’t argue when I entered the compartment and found the only open seat was beside Edwina. I figured sitting beside her would be better than sitting where I could easily look at her time and again.

But such assumptions were folly, for I’m all too aware of her proximity, her scent, her every motion from the corner of my eye. I can’t stop myself from gauging any change in her aroma, can’t stop myself from trying to smell the other male on her.

Furthermore, the type of fae I am—one I don’t care to bring up if I don’t have to—makes me particularly attuned to certain bouquets.

Ooo some type of sexual one?

Why the fuck am I assessing her smell? Her bathing habits? It’s none of my blooming business, attraction or no. And…since when am I so attuned to her scent in the first place?

Yet hers strikes me like a blow to the skull, a tantalizing blend of ink, parchment, and air after a lightning storm. A bouquet that has me breathing deeper, yearning to lean a little closer…

Bristling because her jolly mood reminds me why she’s so damn happy. Then melting because…because something is fucking wrong with me, and now I find myself liking her voice.

I don’t even like her as a person, yet now I like her scent, her voice, and am inexplicably attracted to her face and body. And want to spread her naked form beneath mine and taste every inch of her flesh⁠—

“Wish I’d slept on the roof,” Daphne mutters with a pointed look at Edwina. Edwina grimaces.

Edwina shakes her head profusely, but Daphne rises to all fours and bares her teeth.

“I’m so sorry. I gave you my pillow as payment, though. Remember?” The pine marten huffs but settles back on her haunches. “You did give me your pillow.”

“To be fair,” Monty says to Daphne, “you should have seen that coming. Miss Danforth has a bet to win.” “I didn’t want to see anything coming,” Daphne says.

Fuck. Has she gleaned the truth? That I can lie, not only when I’m on the stage, but when I’m playing a more subtle role in everyday life?

“On second thought,” Monty says, rising from the bench, “I think I’ll visit the smoking car. Join me, Daph.” Daphne leaps off the bench. “Is it because you smell what I smell?” “Yes, my little mustelid friend,”

Monty says as he reaches the door to our compartment. “That is the smell of sexual tension. We’ll leave you to it.”

Edwina’s cheeks blaze crimson as they close the door behind them. “That is not what this is,” she says as she sho...

“I offered to fuck you, Ed, not marry you.”

“Weenie.” Her expression deepens to a scowl. “What?” “If you want me to keep my promise, stop overthinking it.

After how flustered she’s made me up until now, I’m pleased with how easily I can do the same to her.

And if she refuses to rise to my bait with the free pass, I’ll do everything I can to torment her. Aggravate her. Arouse her. Until she’s begging me to let her redeem it.

I part my lips and slowly drag my tongue over the stain, tasting bitter ink, the salt of her skin, and something floral like soap or fragrance oil. She releases the smallest squeak, a sound that borders on a whine.

My breath hitches as I imagine what other sounds I could coax from her. I’m almost of a mind to try… But no. That won’t come for free. If she wants more of me, she can beg me with those two words.