The Resistance(8)

The worry creasing his brow disappears when I step forward, but he teases, “Just so I’m clear. Do you want me to be kidding or you don’t want me to be kidding about the one night?”

I walk past him with a determination in my stride, and casually reply, “I need food. Let’s order dinner and go from there.”

When I look back, his smile returns. “That sounds good.” He rubs his stomach, his T-shirt lifting just enough for me to catch a glimpse of hard abs and a sprinkling of dark hair that leads to naughty and stimulating places. “I can eat.”

Failing to mention he was taking me to a penthouse suite, I have to ask, “How do you have access to the penthouse?”

“Perks of the job.” Double timing his footwork to get in front of me, he opens the door wide and waits. “After you.”

I hesitate just outside the door, peeking into the large suite. “You sure do get a lot of perks.” One glance at Dalton and his words from earlier tonight run through my mind. Rules are meant to be broken—maybe he’s someone worth breaking them for.

The penthouse is bigger than most apartments in L.A. Definitely bigger than the last one I had and maybe even my townhouse.

Dalton disappears into a bedroom off to the side, but I remain by the front door, a little nervous to disturb the opulence. When he returns, he’s changed into a dry T-shirt with sleeves that have shrunk up a little more on one side than the other. Two more tattoos are partly revealed—one is a number, the other is the bottom of a flag. He walks out onto the crescent-shaped balcony and grabs a cigarette from a pack on the table. With the cigarette in his mouth, he glances at me over his shoulder, and asks, “You have a light?”

I shake my head, and ask, “You smoke?”

“Bad habit. I know, but I picked it up a long time ago.”

“Can you quit?”

“Anytime.”

His confidence is sexy, but still makes me skeptical. “Really? Anytime?”

“Sure. Yeah, I might get the shakes from the withdrawals and gain a few pounds, take up the bottle to replace one bad habit with another, but yeah,” he says, shrugging, “I can quit.”

I want to say so much to that smartass reply, but I think he needs the cigarette after that rant, so I’ll let him smoke in peace.

After blowing the smoke into the air, he leans against the railing and adds, “Sorry.”

“No need for sorries,” I repeat his phrase from earlier tonight. “I get it. I wasn’t lecturing, so you know. I was just curious.” I stand and walk to the kitchen and search for a glass, thinking I need the distraction.

I fill a glass with water and stand at the kitchen counter, taking sips, and beginning to doubt my decision to come here.

He approaches from behind and presses his chest against my back. I try to control my swallow, but I’m sure he hears my gulp.

His lips touch the top of my bare shoulder and he kisses me gently, causing me to swallow hard again. Fingertips tap against my skin, then drag the spaghetti strap of my silk top to the side until it drops. When it comes to bad boys, I’ve always been a sucker when accompanied by a handsome face and sweet gestures. And I have a feeling Jack Dalton is a very bad boy.

When I turn around, his arms trap me and our noses touch, making my heart race. I place my hand on his chest to feel, without him knowing, if he’s having the same reaction. His hand covers mine, and he whispers, “I feel it.” When I look into his eyes, I see his every intention clearly set, but his words surprise me. “I lied earlier.”

“About what?” My tone may not be as comfortable as his, but I keep it low to match the intimacy of the moment.

“When I said I’d replace smoking with drinking. I think you already know I drink since we met at a bar.”

He makes me smile. Feeling bold, I move my hand up from his chest and around his neck. “We all have our vices.”

“What’s one of yours?” His hands are near my waist, his fingertips barely touching me… and I want more.

Looking down, and feeling shy, I reply, “Hot guys with tattoos that I meet at bars on vacation.”

When I look back up, he’s smiling. “So this is something you do often?”

“Let’s not go that far. Makes me sound easy. Oh wait,” I say with a devious grin. “I guess I need to confess my own lie now, huh?”

“And what is that?”

“I’ve had a one-night stand before… maybe even a few.”

With laughter edging his tone, he says, “Eh, who hasn’t.” His warm breath covers my mouth, making my insides swirl in anticipation. I need to slow down before his lips are pressed against mine. Because once that happens, there’s no stopping.