Cousins: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance(12)

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks with concern.

"Yes." I nod while rubbing my arms.

"Cold?"

I can't hide the fact that I'm slightly shivering. The nights are getting cooler as the summer starts to wind down, not to mention the fact that I'm totally underdressed. Last time I'll wear Sloan's skimpy tops.

"A little."

He takes off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders, allowing his hands to linger across my shoulders a little longer than necessary. The lining of his jacket is a midnight blue satin, which smells uniquely like him and it warms me quickly with his residual body heat. I was just about to let out a small audible groan, if I hadn't caught myself. I'm pretty sure he notices.

He pushes up the sleeves of his shirt and holy mother of god there are more tats. Two intricate arm sleeves worth on strong, corded forearms. A simple but very expensive looking silver watch adorns his left wrist. I can't help but stare and once again, he notices.

"May I ask what you do?" He asks me.

"What I do?" I nervously rub the thin horizontal gold bar necklace I'm wearing between my fingers.

"Most of the women that come to the club on techno night are tightly wound corporate types looking to let loose."

"And I don't look like the corporate type?" I take slight offense. Why I'm not sure.

"I know you're not one of those types."

"I work in the tech industry."

He nods his head. "Interesting."

"What do you do?" I ask.

"I am a consultant."

With all those tattoos? I highly doubt that.

"Can I give you a ride home?"

"Umm, no we're fine." Right now almost every man looks like a potential drug addict or drug dealer to me. Including him. Especially him.

"Well he could drop us off–" Sloan adds her two cents, but I quickly cut her off.

"We're. Fine." I state firmly.

"Sheesh. It's not like we live that far Bitsy." Sloan mutters under her breath like a bratty teenager whose mom just scolded her.

She's definitely annoyed with me, but it's been a long night, and it's just dawned on me that I still don't know the stranger's name. I was too dumbstruck to remember to ask him, and he never offered it. This is just one of the many obvious red flags waving directly in front of my face about how lost I could become in a man like this. An attraction like this. I barely escaped the last relationship I thought I was so careful with. I'm definitely not doing that again. So I decide to listen to my mind and not my hormone driven body. If I accept a ride home or go anywhere with this guy, I may just barely survive it. Do I think he's a serial killer? No. But do I think he is someone with the capability of destroying me nonetheless. Absolutely. No thank you.

I finally see a yellow cab that looks empty and raise my hand to hail it. I slip the stranger's jacket from around my shoulders and hand it back to him. It's so weird that I feel like I've lost something important when I give it back. I already miss his scent and his warmth. Sloan jumps in the backseat of the cab and gives me a moment while I say my goodbyes to him.

"Thank you again for everything tonight," I say sincerely.

He nods silently at me with an expressionless look on his face as he holds the door for me. I hope my refusal of a ride didn't offend him. Not that it matters. I'll never see him again. Once I'm inside the cab, I exhale the breath that I have been holding, and that's when he thumps the hood of the car twice signaling for the cab driver to drive away.

As we pull away, I turn my head like a child to watch him through the back window; and as his silhouette grows smaller in the distance, my body weeps for the many orgasms that will never be.





Chapter Five

Roman





SUNLIGHT STREAMS IN THROUGH an unfamiliar window, warming my face, and I'm pissed about it. I just need twenty more damn minutes of sleep. Just twenty. Grumbling profanities, I pull the sheet over my head to block the sun's rays and notice a pair of bare oversized breasts close to my chin. They are beautiful, perky, round globes that no doubt have been perfected by a surgeon's skilled hands; but I have no fucking idea who they belong to, even though they were in my mouth not less than five hours ago.

Doesn't matter. It never matters. I'm not built in a way that it would ever matter.

A month or so ago, a woman whose name is escaping me at the moment, gave me remarkable head and got so upset that I was disrespecting her like some two dollar whore, because I got up to leave as soon as she wiped her mouth. She told me I committed a "hit and run" and that I was trying to leave the scene of a crime without exchanging information, which was a major offense. I'm not kidding. She used those exact damn words. Did I mention that this woman was in the police academy? (I went through a phase of law and order types.) So to shut all that down, I swiftly cuffed her ass to the headboard and fucked her hard doggy style while calling out each number of my cell phone with each punishing stroke.