“Remind me why we’re here again.” I lift my champagne to my mouth, sipping and watching the other guests flock around Cleo’s parents’ large living room.
Cleo sighs. “Because it’s practically mandatory.”
“Yeah, but the caviar is good.” Isla licks her fingers.
It’s Cleo’s parents’ twenty-seventh wedding anniversary. It took some years, but I finally figured out that her parents would probably throw a party just for buying a brand-new car, so naturally, a wedding anniversary is a huge ordeal.
“Oh, shit. Ethan!” Cleo hisses.
I lean back against the wall, watching over the rim of my glass as Cleo and Isla rush over to stop Cleo’s sixteen-year-old brother from trying to steal some alcohol near the buffet. I’m so bored I feel as though I might fall asleep standing up.
“Vera.”
Nope, wide awake now. I turn my head to find Dexter, who runs a hand through his wavy brown hair as he approaches me. “Dexter.” I nod. “How’s Lisa treating you?”
He stops next to me, huffing out a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Not really, just trying to make a point.”
“Point made.” He adjusts his cufflinks for a second. “Where’ve you been? You know I wanted to talk with you. Is it really so hard to answer your damn phone?”
“It depends on who’s calling, really.”
“You and your smart mouth.”
I shrug, downing the rest of my champagne.
“Look, I know I’ve made some pretty dumb decisions, Lisa being one of them.” He stops fidgeting, giving me the full effect of his brown-eyed stare. Which still does nothing for me. “But I’m willing to own up to them, you know, to make it right.”
“Mmmhmm.” I tilt my glass toward him. “What a compelling speech. Excuse me while I swoon.”
Irritation flickers in his eyes. Good, I wish he’d go be irritated someplace else.
“What do I need to do? Tell me, and I’ll do it. Please.”
The effort it took for him to say those words must have been extreme. His jaw relaxes as if finally saying them has freed him of some burden.
“You just need to leave me alone. There, easy.” I shrug again and move away, walking over to join the girls when my phone buzzes in my purse. I place my glass down on a nearby table and open my clutch, digging it out.
Jared: Miss me yet?
My breath stalls. I’d wondered if he got my number that day at the coffee shop.
It’s been a week since our last night together. I was beginning to wrap my brain around the possibility that we were done. That he’d finally lost interest.
Glancing around the room briefly, I see Dexter’s now talking to my father. That’s not good. But at least he’s leaving me alone. I move out of the room, walking to the kitchen before I reply.
Me: I was beginning to forget all about you, actually.
He replies instantly.
Jared: Then I’d better do something about that. What are you doing?
Me: Trying not to choke on all the egos filling one house. You?
Jared: I’m thinking I’m getting tired of trying to forget you and need to see you.
Elation fills my chest and has my lips curving into a small smile.
Me: You need to, do you?
Jared: It gets worse with every fucking minute.
Laughing, I type out my response before I can think better of it.
Me: Rescue me?
Jared: Tell me when and where.
I send him the address, and he says to give him ten. Tucking my phone away, I quickly find the girls and let them know I’m going.
“Oh, no fair. Take me with you,” Cleo begs.
Isla glances over to where my father is now talking to hers. “Go now before he sees. I’ll make something up if he asks.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“I’ll say that you went home, girl issues.” She shrugs. “Works every time.”
Cleo laughs. “So true.”
I say goodbye, grab my coat, and make my way out the front quickly, worried my father will notice but too excited to care too much right now.
As I walk down the street, the noise of the party follows me like a looming shadow. But the sound of his bike rumbling in the near distance makes me glad I’m not waiting outside the house. At least down here, farther out of sight, there’s less chance anyone will notice me disappearing on the back of a motorcycle.
A headlight flashes, coming over the small crest in the road, shining over me before the bike comes to a stop.
“Get on.” He jerks his head behind him and holds out a helmet. I take it from him, fumbling with the straps for a second before finally securing it. He grabs my hand, and I soak in way more from the simple touch than I should as he helps me onto the back. My dark gray and black lace cocktail dress and black heels don’t exactly make the best riding outfit, but oh well. It seems to be a recurring theme with me and this bike.
Once I have my hands wrapped around his waist, he tucks my clutch into his saddlebag then revs the bike. We drive past Cleo’s parents’ huge home and continue down more residential streets until he pulls into a parking lot by the beach and turns the bike off. I climb off, passing him the helmet and almost squealing when he grabs my hand, yanking me over to sit on his lap.
“Hi.” His cold nose brushes my cheek.
“Hi, Hero.” I drop my head to his.
“What was I interrupting?” He runs his hands over my back.
“Anniversary party.” I bite my lip. “I was bored out of my brain.”
He hums. “Good thing I rescued you then.”
We’re quiet for a minute, and I wonder if we’re just going to go ahead and get to the fun stuff or if we’ll maybe discuss the way things ended last week.
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, “for leaving like I did. Why didn’t you call me? Hell, why did you let me drop you off like that and not spit any of your venom at me?” His voice is gruff and low; he seems almost angry.
My eyes lift to his, and I blink. “Um, well, you said you didn’t want anything serious.” I shrug. “So I tried not to get too serious.”
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and stares. My hands lift to his shoulders, clenching as the urge to lean forward and suck that lip into my own mouth becomes all I can think about.
“And if I were to change my mind about that?” Vulnerability swims in those green orbs, and it leaves me a bit speechless. My stomach drops as what he’s asking starts to sink in.
My father’s warning blares through my head.
I can’t. It wouldn’t last.
But that’s not what comes out of my mouth. Far from it. “Are you asking for serious?”
His lips brush against mine, and I shiver. “To be honest, I have no fucking idea what I’m asking for. All I know is I can’t get you to leave me alone.” He laughs at my confused expression. “In my head. You’re always there.” He sighs. “Those fucking eyes.” He moves his head back to look at me, brows furrowing. “Do you like haunting me, Frost?” he asks as though he’s joking, but he seems genuinely frustrated by it. It makes me laugh, which wipes the seriousness off his face, and in its absence is his usual smile. But staring at his slightly crooked front tooth, the happiness rapidly filling my chest comes to a screeching halt when I remember the panties I found in his room.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do the whole sharing thing, Hero.”
The streetlight highlights the severe cut of his cheekbones when he scowls at me.
“What’re you talking about?”
Smirking, I admit, “The panties in your room. I saw them when I was getting my purse from under your bed last weekend.” I hold up my hand when he attempts to talk. “If I’m going to commit myself to something …” That could upend my whole life. Christ, what am I even doing? “In any kind of way, I don’t want to have to worry about other women.”
He tilts back, scrubbing a hand over his face and glancing away briefly. I start to panic, thinking he’s about to tell me something I don’t want to hear. But what he says instead has me shocked and worried in a much different way than what I expected.
“Her name was Dahlia.” He turns his gaze back to me, voice quiet but loud enough for me to hear over the sound of the waves crashing on the beach behind us. “They were her panties. She was married, and I know, that makes me an ass. But I was going through a rough time and wanted a distraction. She was sweet and so damn sad. I thought it’d be fun to mess around with a hot married woman. I have no idea what made me keep the damn things. Other than the fact I started caring about her more than I thought I would, and I felt like being a dick.” He chuckles quietly. “But fun has a way of going terribly wrong when you start to care about someone too much, and an angry husband is involved.” He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes.
“Anyway. You’ve got nothing to worry about. It ended a while ago.” He lifts a shoulder like he didn’t just dump a whole lot of information on me that has my mouth hanging open. I close it, realizing that his comment about not wanting anything serious now makes some sense.
“Did you love her?” I don’t know why I ask or where the question even comes from, but it’s out. I try not to hold my breath, resisting the urge to close my eyes while I wait for his response.
“Did you love him?”
I heave out a heavy breath at his quick retort. “No.”
He stares off at the empty parking lot, seemingly lost in thought for a few seconds. “I think maybe I could have. If circumstances were different, I guess.” Scratching at his stubble, his eyes land back on me, a mischievous look filling them. “But it was very fucking obvious that it wasn’t meant to be.” He leans in to rest his nose against mine. “Which is something that’s become even more clear these past few weeks.”
I swallow hard, insanely and irrationally jealous of this Dahlia, yet thrilled he seems to think meeting me means more. God, he’s got my emotions dipping up and down like a freaking roller coaster.
He grabs my chin, tilting my head and lowering his lips to mine. I don’t even care about our surroundings; I think it’s clear he can make me forget a lot of things. His eyes stay open, his lips grazing over mine so lightly that my next breath gets trapped in my throat. “So damn soft,” he murmurs against them.
Feeling brave, I lift my hand to the side of his face and rub my bottom lip between his. He groans quietly, blowing out a breath through his nose. To my horror, I giggle as the warmth tickles my upper lip. He takes advantage of it, eyes filled with mirth when he presses his mouth to mine firmly. His tongue sneaks out to skim over my lips, and I pull back, breathing heavy.
“I just needed a taste,” he whispers.
Another laugh escapes me, and he grabs both sides of my head, tilting it and sinking his tongue into my mouth. I stop laughing, trying not to moan when he stops joking around and starts setting my body ablaze with his tongue rubbing against mine.
“Okay.” I pull back again. “You’ve had your taste.”
He glares, and I move to touch his face again, but my hand pauses midair before dropping back to my lap. He notices, grabs it, and lifts it to his mouth to kiss. Smiling, I place it against his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his stubble before moving it to his eye. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” I blurt out on a whisper. My finger runs gently along his long lashes, and he scowls again, grabbing my hand and nipping my thumb. “Let’s go with captivating. It sounds manlier.”
Grinning, I tug my hand back and lean forward, pressing my lips to his again. It seems crazy to become addicted to the taste of a person. But when his teeth tug my bottom lip into his mouth for him to suck, I decide that everything about the time I’ve spent with this man is crazy. So I run my tongue over his top lip and sigh in contentment as my blood sparks, warming now that I’m finally getting my fix. His hands run down my jacket clad arms, not stopping until he reaches my thighs. Pushing my dress up more, he teases me by trailing the pads of his rough fingers over the sensitive skin on the inside of my thighs. He tears his lips away. “Fuck, we shouldn’t do this here …”
“Touch me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips come back to mine, his breath coming heavier in hot bursts that fill my mouth and cause my heart to beat faster. My panties are moved to the side, and I grin against his lips. “Want a new set to keep?”
His eyes open. “What?”
I climb off his lap and tug them down my legs before tucking them into the saddlebag of his bike. He pulls me to him again, helping me straddle him. “You’re giving me your panties?”
He looks like I’ve just gifted him with a puppy. Laughing, I say, “Yes, I just did.”
“God damn.” His eyes then move down to my sex, just covered by the skirt of my scrunched-up dress. “Shit.” He shoves the material up, his hands wrapping over the tops of my thighs, thumbs rubbing my mound gently. I grow even wetter from the soft touch. “Jared …”
“Hmm?” He lifts his gaze to mine.
I smile, but it’s strained. “I need you.”
He shakes his head, looking around the abandoned lot. “Here?”
I roll my lips between my teeth. “Well, yeah.” I lean forward, licking then scraping my teeth over his shadowed jaw, and repeat the words he said to me last weekend. “What’s life without a little risk?”
He moves me off him to unzip his fly and free himself. “You had me at Jared.”
He grabs his wallet from the saddlebag, and I watch his cock jump as he rips a condom open and rolls it on. Shoving his wallet back into the bag, he then pulls me over his lap again.
He lifts me, and I give him a gentle squeeze, causing him to groan before I align him at my entrance and sink down. My legs rest over the tops of his thighs, winding together behind his back. He curses, hands reaching up to hold the sides of my face and weave into my hair. Once the burn subsides, I move, rolling my hips and running my nails over the back of his neck. His lips hover over mine, his eyes half closed. He exhales loudly when I lift as high as I can then drop back down. I keep going, moaning when a hand leaves my face to grab my hip tightly. He pulls me down and pushes up, grinding into me carefully in an effort to keep the bike steady.
“You’re killing me, Frost,” he rasps. “But I’m pretty sure dying shouldn’t feel this damn good.”
Whimpering into his mouth, all I can do is nod. My stomach tightens and my thighs start to shake when he holds me down on him, rocking and causing my head to spin. “You like me fucking you on my bike out here in the open?”
“Yes,” I admit shakily.
He bites my lip, staring into my eyes. “You like getting a little dirty, don’t you, princess?”
My hips jerk, and I swallow hard. “I do … but only with you.”
He hums, the sound deep and throaty. “Good answer.”
His hand leaves my face to grab my other hip, lifting me up and down. I start to moan loudly, my nails digging into the back of his neck. “That’s it; tell anyone who can hear exactly what I do to you. Let them hear you come while you’re stuffed full of my cock, beauty,” he whispers across my lips.
“Fuck,” I breathe, shattering and shaking while he rocks into me and slams my hips down on him at the same time. I become mindless, swamped in sensation and clinging to him desperately. He grabs the back of my head, forcing me to swallow his groan when he stills and comes. I run my fingers over his neck, and he shivers, groaning one more time and kissing me softly.
“I’m sorry.” I pull back. “I think I left scratches.”
His laugh is hoarse and wraps around my heart deliciously. “Scratch me all you want. In fact”—he presses his lips to mine, his thumb rubbing over my cheek—“I’ll be mad if you don’t.”
We kiss lazily, and his softening cock jerks inside me. Pulling back, I give him a tiny smile before hopping off him with his hand helping to keep me steady. I right my dress while he kicks the stand down and tugs the condom off, tying it before tossing it in a nearby trash can. He zips up his jeans while he walks back over to me then fishes out his cigarettes from his jacket pocket. Lighting one, he puts the pack away and leans against the seat, pulling me between his legs. I watch in a trance as he inhales deeply.
“You’re a fucking enigma, Frost.”
It takes me a second to realize he said something to me. “Huh?”
He laughs and I grab the cigarette from his hand, taking a drag and sighing as the acrid taste of tobacco fills my mouth. Such a filthy habit. But I’m beginning to realize that I have a serious problem with bad habits. I pass it back to him. “You’re nothing like you seem. Know that?”
Leaning against his thigh, I twist my lips. “Is anyone ever as they seem?”
He shrugs. “What you see is what you get with me.”
That makes me laugh. “Sure, but I see more.”
Smoke billows from his mouth when he replies, “Do you now?”
“Yep.” I take the cigarette from him again, and he chuckles.
“Smoking’s bad for you, beauty. Give that shit back.”
“A lot of stuff is bad for me, yet I do it anyway.” I take another drag and hand it back.
He squints at me, moving his arm around my waist to bring me closer. “And you do it so fucking well.” He takes a deep pull, and I duck my head, grabbing his chin to tilt his mouth to mine. I inhale the smoke he sets free from his parted lips, and he groans, cursing quietly. He rubs his lips over mine before straightening.
“You and me, this week,” he says. “I’m taking you out.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Taking me out where?”
He shrugs. “Haven’t thought that far ahead yet, but it won’t be anywhere fancy, so I hope you’re okay with that.”
I glower at him. “It doesn’t have to be fancy.”
He stares at me for a second, eyes narrowed slightly, and then nods. “Okay.”
“When … and why?” I blurt.
Smiling at my embarrassing show of eagerness, he grabs my hand and kisses the top of it. “Wednesday. And because I’ve kind of made a mess of this already. Let me at least try to court you properly.”
“Court me?” I grin widely at him.
He flicks some ash to the ground. “Yes, I’m going to court the fuck out of you.”
“Right.” I nod. “I don’t care too much for courting, but I appreciate the gesture.”
“You don’t?” He frowns, grabbing the helmet from the handlebars and passing it to me. I step back, putting it on my head while admitting, “Not really. We could watch a movie instead? Or hey, maybe you could rub my back while I read a book. Now that”—I point a finger at him—“is my idea of courting.”
He guffaws. “Shit, okay.” He raises a thick brow. “Wait … you’re not lying, are you?”
“I’m not much of a liar, no.”
He hums deeply before stepping over to fasten the helmet for me. “I’m starting to see that. And many other mysterious things. Hey, maybe if you could just write all your preferences down, that’d—” My lips pressing firmly against his cuts him off. “Or you can do that,” he murmurs. “In fact, feel free to do that anytime you want.”
I laugh, and he chuckles, pecking me once, twice, three times on the lips before getting back on the bike. “But we’re still going out Wednesday night. After that, all courting bets are off.” He stabs his finger at me. “So be ready, Frost.”
I bite my lip, trying in vain not to show everything I’m feeling on my face while he starts the bike. But when he throws me a wink and holds out his hand to help me on, I know I’ve failed.