Page 8 of After Party

Scott blew out a frustrated breath, grabbed her other ankle and pulled. She slid across the seat and he stoically kept his eyes off of the way her skirt hiked up. When her butt was on the edge of the seat, he grabbed her around the waist with both hands and pulled her out of the car. She wobbled slightly as he set her on her feet and she grabbed the front of his shirt to get her balance.

She sighed. “Okay. Fine. Thanks for bringing me home, I guess.”

“I always will.” His hand was still on her hip. He knew he should move it. And he would. Soon.

She looked up at him. “You know what I like best about you?” she asked.

He caught the faint whiff of her breath, but he didn’t smell liquor. She smelled like fruity candy. And he had to fight the urge to wrap her hair around his hand and tug her head back so he could ravage her mouth and get a really good taste. “What?” he asked gruffly.

“That you still like me after all the stupid shit I’ve done.”

Andthatwasn’t helping with the take-care-of-her urges he was feeling. “I’ll always do that too,” he promised, dropping his hand from her hip and curling his hands into fists.

She moved her hand, spreading her palm against his chest and rubbing back and forth, right over his heart. “You really are so fucking hot in this uniform.”

Her heels lifted her high enough that she was able to put her lips against his before he realized what she was thinking. She moved in until her body was up against his, one hand at the back of his head, the other gripping his shirt where she’d been rubbing a second before.

Then she kissed him. For about five seconds.

It was actually a sweet kiss. It wasn’t deep or wet or crazy. But it was the promise of all of that. And made him want to take her hips in both hands, press her up against his car, and kiss her long and deep and not-sweet-at-all.

But he kept his hands clenched by his side. He didn’t open his mouth. He didn’t even close his eyes. Instead he watched hers slide closed and then, when she leaned back, in the millisecond before she opened those big green eyes, he saw the soft smile on her lips. Just before she looked up at him as if he’d just rocked her world.

Even though he hadn’t grabbed her and tongue-fucked her mouth while letting his hands roam all over her gorgeous body the way he wanted to.

The way every other guy would have.

God he loved being one person who always did what she expected him to do, who was always there for her, who she could trust and depend on. Because showing her she could trust him to be the guy she expected him to be was more important than getting her naked.

In spite of the way his body was now screaming at him.

“Perfect,” she said softly after a moment.

And that kind of rockedhisworld. He couldn’t help giving her a smile that was probably a little cocky. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Oh, yeah.” And then she kissed him again. Her arms snaked up around his neck and her fingers slid into his hair and she opened her mouth further.

He pressed his lips together more firmly. He dug his fingernails into his palms. He thought about Conrad and Larry—two of the seventy-year-old men who played basketball down at the community center, shirtless. That always worked to deflate his erection.

But then Peyton pressed closer and gave another of her little sighs and well, there and nothing that could have kept his hands at his sides.

He was a good guy. Loyal and ethical, a protector by nature, strong and full of self-control. One little woman in a leprechaun costume shouldn’t have been able to shake any of that.

And any other little woman in any kind of costume wouldn’t have.

But this was Peyton. Peyton who threw parties for other people because she hadn’t had enough of her own. Peyton who also loyal and a protector by nature. Peyton who had everyone else’s back but was so often on her own. Peyton who needed to be loved and who needed to know that she was wanted.

“Please, Scott,” she whispered against his lips. “Just once.”

Her words sucked all the air from his lungs.

Just once, I wish you would dance with me at the Come Again, instead of only showing up to be sure I don’t get into trouble. Or I wish you’d show up at a river party and instead of busting it up, you’d get drunk and make out with me. Or I wish you’d stop by the kissing booth at the festival when I’m working it. Or that you’d sit down in the bakery and flirt for a while instead of just getting your stuff to go.

No one wanted her more than Scott did. And he was going to show her that. Just once.

He clasped her hips in his hands, feeling relief at being able touch her flood through him. He turned her, put her back against the side of his squad car and crowded close.

Her tiny sigh turned into a full out moan and he was lost. He opened his mouth and knew in the milliseconds before her tongue touched his that he wasn’t leaving her house unscathed tonight.

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