“No you weren’t!”
She opens her mouth, then snaps it shut into a tight, unyielding line. I don’t know if she finally sees it the way I do or if she just doesn’t want to keep yelling at each other in the middle of campus. I sigh and point in the direction of my SUV. “Let me take you home.”
She nods, but it’s tight, and she’s not quite looking at me.
Shit.
The ride is short and silent. When I pull up in front of her place, she doesn’t get out right away. She exhales slowly, then looks down at her hands. “Thank you, I guess.”
My eyebrows hit the roof. I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t know how I feel about it, honestly. “I don’t want you to say thank you. Especially not if you don’t mean it.”
She looks out the window. “I hear what you’re saying. How it looked. You could have gotten mad at me and you didn’t.”
What the fuck? “I wouldn’t have. Even if it wasn’t obvious that he was all over you and you didn’t want it…I know you, Ali. That’s not you.”
“He asked me to go to the party with him.”
“So? Did he ask you to make out on the couch with him?”
She doesn’t say anything. Fuck.
“Let me make something crystal clear, babe. No guy worth his balls expects something like that. And the guys that do, deserve to have their balls cut off with a rusty fucking machete. My reaction back there was big, but it was also tempered. I wanted to rip him limb from limb. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on. Let me walk you up.”
I get out and jog around the truck, opening her door for her.
She stares straight ahead as we cross the street. But when we get to the wide steps at the front of her building, she doesn’t punch in her code. I do an automatic scan of the surroundings. We’re alone. It’s late, and relatively private, and if she doesn’t want me to walk her upstairs, I’m not going to push it.
I lean against the wall. If she wants to talk, I’ll talk, but I’m not going to open my giant ape mouth without prompting. I’ve done enough tonight.
She scuffs her toe against the stoop. “Was that just you being protective tonight?”
Wow. She’s heading straight into the middle of the land mines. “I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t like seeing another guy touch you.”
“You don’t touch me.”
“I did. I will again.”
She lifts her chin a bit, but she’s still not looking at me.
“You mess with my head in a way that’s distressing for a grown man, Ali.”
That gets her attention. She jerks her face up and blinks at me. “What?”
“You gotta know I’m twisted up over you.”
She blanches. Well, that was the wrong thing to say. Fuck me.
“I was jealous. When I saw him touching you. Okay? That was my first reaction, for a split-second. Then I was just being protective. I swear.”
“I don’t want you to be…I don’t want you to expect feelings from me,” she says quietly.
What the hell? “I already told you I don’t expect anything. But feelings are just human nature. Don’t read too much into it because I don’t want some pipsqueak touching what I feel is all mine right now.”
“All yours?”
“I warned you I don’t share.”
“I know.” She licks her lips. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“I know.”
“I’m just being me, you know. Now. I was…trying too hard before. But now…this is me.”
“That makes it even worse.”
“Oh, great, thanks.”
“That’s not what I mean.” I laugh gently. “You’re hot. Just the way you are. Distractingly so.”
She scowls at me. “It’s hard not to feel like I’m being blamed for having tits.”
I laugh again, because she doesn’t give an inch. Nor should she. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m defenseless around her, and I’m not dealing with that well. “I’m not blaming you. I promise. That would make me just as bad as that douche at the party.”
She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Not at all. And his name is Corey, by the way.”
“I don’t care what his name is.” She smirks and I pull her in for a hug. “I should go.”
She nods against my chest. “Just for tonight. We could use a breather.”
“You’re being way more mature than me about this.”
She winks. “Don’t worry. I’ll go back to being a selfie-loving co-ed any second now.”
“Can I kiss you goodnight?”
“You better.”
I crowd her against the brick wall, taking my time to touch my lips against hers. Savoring this moment, the only one I’ll get tonight. I’m going to make it good for both of us, good enough it makes up for my Neanderthal show earlier.
Her nose brushes mine as she stretches up. I cup her cheek. Her skin is so soft, but beneath it she’s made of steel, honed by two decades of bracing against the Dashford Reid hostility. And now I’m yet another problem for her to manage.
“I really am sorry about tonight,” I mutter, my lips bumping against hers.
“Shut up. Kiss me. Feel bad later.”
I can do all three.
Her lips part immediately as I slide our mouths together, her teeth nipping at my bottom lip as I suck her top one into my mouth. I groan and haul her tighter against me, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. Fuck. She tastes sweet, coke and bourbon and pure Ali beneath it all, wet and hot and eager for me to fill her up. Her tongue swipes at mine. She wants to play, and the thought sends a dangerous spark through my body.
How dirty can this kiss get outside her building?
I hitch her up my body, cupping her ass as I shift one of my thighs between hers. She rubs against me, squeezing her legs as I work my hand inside her jacket.
The whole time, I’m exploring her mouth, finding out what strokes make her wriggle, what licks make her moan.
My fingers find her waist, her ribs, and I follow the path up to her breast. Through the thin fabric of her shirt I can feel lace and structured fabric. She’s wearing a fancy bra.
My cock throbs at the second-base promise of silk and satin.
But not tonight. I keep sliding my hand, up over her nipple, ignoring her breathless protest as I cup the nape of her neck. I deepen the kiss one last time and pull away, ignoring how wet and shiny her mouth is—if I think about that for even a second, I’ll be a goner. “Good night, Ms. Reid.”
She presses her fingers to her lips, a smile playing behind the long, slim digits. “Good night, Mr. Mayfair,” she whispers, her eyes dancing.
We stand there, frozen, until she giggles and I step back. She turns and lets herself in, and I let myself ogle her sweet ass peaking out beneath her jacket until she’s inside the apartment building and the door closes in my face.
My phone vibrates as I walk away from her building. I turn around once I’m across the street and look up. Her apartment is dark, then the window brightens a bit as she opens the door. I look down at my phone. The text message is from her.
A: 1/2
That’s it. But then another bubble appears, and I realize she’s sent me a photo text, it’s just taking its sweet-ass time to load.
It’s a selfie, taken in the stairwell. She’s giving the camera a little smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Does she regret sending me away? She was right to, of course. But damn it if I don’t want to be upstairs with her right now.
1/2…One of two…
I stand there and wait for the second photo. My attention is divided between my phone, still working away with the download, and the two windows of her apartment—she walked through the dark living space and now she’s in her small bedroom. I can picture the room. Her closet, already overflowing with clothes. That little double bed, pushed into the corner, with the faded quilt and basic cotton sheets.
The standing mirror, where I can picture her looking at herself as she gets dressed.
As she gets undressed.
As she touches herself, maybe, because she’s a girl that sends me pictures, so maybe she’s a girl who watches herself get off.
I’m jealous of that mirror, for getting a daily glimpse at her soft, lithe body.
It’s been offered to you, jackass. Over and over again, and I keep turning her down. And then tonight, if I hadn’t pushed my luck and shown my hand, shown how desperate I am for her, I could have had another offer.
One of these days, she’s going to offer, and I’m going to take every inch she gives me and then some.
Then the second picture comes in.
A: 2/2
And it’s hot as fuck. Skin, everywhere. Nothing exposed, nothing that would end up in the tabloids—she’s learned that lesson well. One arm over her breasts, one leg twisted up to cover what I already know is the sweetest pussy in the entire fucking world.
Her tongue, caught between her teeth.
But it’s the look on her face that does me in. Naked, unvarnished need, and I’m swearing under my breath, because my heart is already across the street and punching in her security code, and that can’t happen.
One of these days just might have been tonight, if I wasn’t stupid.
S: I deserve to go home and have a cold shower. You’re fucking gorgeous. I’ll be less of an ass tomorrow.