I TOTALLY DON’T HAVE THIS.
Shane stands outside my apartment, the crappy lighting in the hallway hitting him like a spotlight. He’s wearing what I’m starting to realize is pure him. Dress pants, nice shoes, and a black button-down. He’s rolled the sleeves up, and his forearms look ridiculously sexy. He always looks hot, and I have a feeling he doesn’t even try to be this mouthwatering.
Voices I didn’t hear during my inspection of Shane filter through my brain. I watch as he turns his head, and even from the side, I can see his eyes narrow. I’m not sure which of my neighbors is keeping his attention, but there really isn’t one who would be better than the other. When he looks back at me, I know he’ll have questions about the seedy men who live on my floor.
“You look beautiful, chèrie,” he finally says, still not looking any less intimidating than he did when he looked over at the voice.
“You look pretty handsome yourself, starboy.”
He shakes his head. Some of the harsh lines leaving when he smirks ever so slightly. “We need to work on that nickname. I’m not a starboy.”
“How about pudding?”
“You call me that in public, and I’ll pull you to the nearest closet and make it so you can’t sit without remembering that I am not your pudding.”
“Snuggums?” I question.
“If you’re not hungry, you’ll keep that up.”
I cock my head. “Okay, I’m hungry, so I’ll cross that off the list. But just out of curiosity, what would happen if I wasn’t hungry?”
A wolfish grin takes over, and my knees grow week. “Then you could call me that bullshit again, and I would spend the night making sure you were pleasured hard but never let you come.”
“Well, looks like snuggums just got the permanent marker crossed through it.”
“I won’t lose sleep over that,” he grunts.
He steps to the side, letting me out into the hallway, and I turn and smile at the door while I lock up my apartment. While I wouldn’t mind the whole nearest closet option, having him deny me an orgasm after I know just how good he is in bed? Yeah … no.
“How was work today?” I ask, almost stumbling when he reaches out and takes my hand before turning and walking to the stairs that lead to the parking lot. I might have promised myself no more discussing fake and real, but if this is how he’s going to act, I’m never going to be able to convince myself that any of this is fake. Dangerous might have been an understatement.
“Easier than last night.”
He stops at his jet black BMW, the windows just as dark as the paint job, and opens my door for me. When I’m settled, he shuts the door softly, enveloping me in darkness as his scent fills my senses. I lean my head back and inhale deep, loving the earthy spice scent that is all his. I’ve never smelled anything better. Ever.
When his door opens, I sit a little straighter, not wanting him to see me all boneless and question me on it. When he starts the engine, the heavy purr makes me press my knees together. His large palm settles on my thigh a beat later, and I look over at him.
“Keep that up and we’re back up those stairs.”
I gulp, the sound loud in the closed space.
His hand tightens, and I lay mine on top of his. His nostrils flare, and I bet if I looked down, I could see I’m not the only one overwhelmed with need.
“First date,” he strangely says, his fingers gripping my leg, my hand gripping his.
“Huh?”
“I don’t have sex on the first date.”
Bubbles of laughter dance up my throat, and I try but fail to suppress them. I lose his gaze when I keep laughing harder, my eyes watering. Not before I saw his handsome smirk, though.
“That’s a good thing, sugar pie, since I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Cross that one off too,” he demands, no real heat in his words.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You do that, mon colibri.”
When he pulls his hand free, I can’t help the whine that escapes. He doesn’t call me on it, but when the streetlight illuminates his face, I can see he isn’t as immune as he might act. I watch out my window as he drives, the radio on low, and the silence comforting. It doesn’t feel like a first date. Probably because we’ve already gone further than I have ever experienced with another person, doing things way out of order but in a comforting way. I’m glad nothing is normal about us because it makes the usual expectations less daunting. The need to do what I can to keep him interested isn’t there. Not having that pressure, well, with that absent, I can be me without worrying about him calling in the morning.
“Have you been here before?”
His question breaks through my thoughts, and I look over.
“Ember dragged me a few weeks ago for lunch. It’s really good.”
“I heard it was good.”
“It’s always pretty crowded, though,” I tell him, pointing out the windshield at the packed parking lot.
He remains silent, somehow finding a spot right near the front door and killing the engine. He looks over, a playful expression masking his normal indifference. “I happen to know that Lacey is having dinner here tonight. You ready to act like I’m the most irresistible man in the world?”
“Not even a hardship,” I scoff, grinning.
“You aren’t mad that I picked this place, knowing she would be here?” His question sounds more like a test for me than anything else.
I lift my shoulder. “Why would I be? If you’re expecting some jealous outburst, you’ve got the wrong girl, tiger.”
“Tiger?”
“Rawr,” I joke with a wink.
He grunts, but I see his smile as he climbs out of the car. Before my hands can curl around the handle to let myself out, he’s opening the door and offering his hand to help me. My sandals touch the ground a second before he pulls, careful of my head, and I stumble into his arms, looking up into his playful eyes.
“Keep being fucking cute and we won’t make it long in here.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I answer.
“Dangerous.”
Not knowing how to respond, I just blink up at him. He just looks at me, not moving, and then presses his lips to mine. When he leans back, I’m not sure who is more shocked by the impromptu kiss—me or him.
When we get inside the restaurant, I have to mentally remind myself not to look around. I hold his hand with mine while curling the other around his thick bicep, keeping my body pressed tightly against his. Aside from telling the hostess it was just the two of us, his attention doesn’t waver from mine. I want so badly to look around, but I resist. Somehow. To the outside, there is no way someone would think this was our first date.
“Right this way,” the young girl says before grabbing some menus and gesturing with her hand to the room behind her.
I give myself a second to take in the room, each of the hibachi cooktops seemingly full of people. She weaves around the room, coming to a stop in the back corner. Shane holds out my chair for me, the one on the end, before taking the other one to my left. I make a mental note to thank him later for taking the spot next to a stranger.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” someone hisses, not trying to keep their voices from floating toward us.
My eyes go from the menu to the direction where I heard that. My gaze clashes with the angry woman across from us at the U-shaped cooktop. Shane’s hand drops to my knee, and I know exactly who that is. I had never really gotten a good look at her because I only saw her through the smoke and darkness of Dirty. I knew about what she looked like in build and such, but I hadn’t gotten a good look at her face until now. She’s beautiful, no doubt about it, but something is nasty about her that takes all those good looks and dashes them out.
Evil. That’s what I imagine is roaring through her veins. Pure, nasty evil.
“Lacey,” Shane drawls, nodding his head at the same time his hand starts rubbing my leg to soothe me. I don’t let myself analyze that, keeping my eyes on the woman across from us.
She doesn’t respond. Her face contorts to an even nastier scowl.
“Hannah,” he continues. I see the woman next to her nod.
Thankfully, the only other people at the table seem to be with them, so we’re keeping our show to a somewhat minimal audience. My stomach flutters, nervous bubbles making me question the sanity of what we’re doing.
“This is rich, Shane,” Lacey snidely says to him. “Even for you.”
“Don’t,” the girl next to Hannah says, leaning around the friend between them to look at Lacey.
“Don’t what? Him bringing his new slut here was no fucking accident. Just like you, Shane, to parade your toys around. You going to tie her up on the table and fuck her here? Rub it in that you have someone new.”
“Your language is atrocious,” I speak up, locking eyes with hers, unable to keep the thought to myself. Blue against blue, one spitting fire and the other—hopefully—calm. Shane’s grip is the only other thing that registers. I bet I have a bruise, but oddly, I kind of hope I do. What in the world does this man do to my mind?
“Oh yeah, slut? You going to do something about it?”
I lean forward, looking around Shane’s body, and make eye contact with the other people sitting with us. Even if they’re clearly here with her, her behavior is embarrassing for everyone. They seem to be coming to the same conclusion, looking uncomfortable that they’re stuck at a table, and between something nasty. “I’m really sorry for her disgusting behavior. I’ve never met her before, but please accept my humblest of apologies that you’re having to witness something so unstable.”
“You fucking bitch,” she hisses. “That’s my fiancé you have your hands on.”
I look from the wide-eyed couple next to us and up at Shane, hoping he can see that I have a lot to say about that bombshell. He doesn’t look away. I nod once before looking back at her. “Whatever he might have been to you at one point, you weren’t smart enough to keep him in your life. Your loss, my gain, and honey … I won’t be stupid enough to let him go. Isn’t that right, pumpkin?” I look over at him with my brow arched. I’ll pay for that pet name, but right now, whatever that punishment will be is one hundred percent worth it to see the look on her face.
However, the desire in his eyes is telling me he isn’t at all upset with my continuing the pet name game in public. His hand leaves my leg, arm arches over my head, and he drapes it over my shoulder.
If looks could kill, I imagine his charming ex would have murdered me a few times. I ignore her, placing my order when the waitress comes over. After handing over my menu, I place my hand on his muscular thigh and lean my head against his arm, turning to look up at him with a smile while I slowly drag my hand up toward his crotch, stopping just shy of the bulge in his slacks. He doesn’t outwardly react, but the second I flex my hand against his leg and feel his hardness against the side of my hand, his erection jumps. I know that no one can see, but it makes me feel deliciously naughty.
“Maybe not on a really hot surface like this, but I wouldn’t mind the whole tying me up later situation.”
Twice in one day, Shane gives me something I have a feeling few others have experienced from him. His full-out, blinding smile as he laughs loudly with his whole body. I feel my own grin grow as I continue looking up at him. When he looks down, his chest still moving with silent laughter, I feel like a little piece of me has just become his forever.
Luckily—or rather, unlucky for me—I didn’t have too much time to think about what that meant for me because the second his lips touched mine, I was drenched with the drink that had just been placed in front of the woman across from me.