Page 33 of Smoke

Damn. I’d done well to avoid it up to now and I’m surprised it’s taken this long.

“I work in the offices at one of the big communication companies in the city.” It’s not a total lie, I’ve just bent it a bit. Okay, a lot. “Why did you book a room when you have an apartment here? Can’t be that far away. Where did you say it was?”

“It’s on Double R Boulevard,” he pipes up. I’m about to go in with another question that might give me something more when he adds. “I thought we’d done talking about me. In fact, let’s cut the chat period.” His hand slides behind my neck and before I know it, his lips are on mine and he’s kissing me without reservation. I try to get up and off his lap, only for the arm around my waist to tighten its hold. His tongue pushes into my mouth, hot and demanding.

Wrong. This is epically wrong.

With my hands firmly on his chest, I push him away and thankfully, it’s enough to break the kiss.

“Paddy, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Why not?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk.” I raise my brow at him in response to him trying to wiggle his seductively. Instead, it’s all over the place, like he’s had a botched-up facelift.

Once again, I attempt to leave his lap, but being hammered certainly doesn’t deplete his strength and by all accounts, neither does it reduce his ability to get hardjudging by the firm rod that’s pushing between my ass cheeks.

“Besides that, I really need to go. I need to be up early for work,” I reiterate. “Early meetings of which it is imperative that I’m there for.”

“Okay, okay. But you could still stay. Snuggle up with me. Promise, no sex.” He holds up his hands as a sign of his honesty. Stupidly, I hesitate and miss the opportunity to escape before his arms are back around me. “We could talk some more,” he offers while stroking his hand slowly up and down my spine, causing me to shiver at his touch.

“We keep our clothes on,” I counter. The thought of getting more information is too tempting to do otherwise.

“Are you open to negotiation?” he asks. I nod in agreement, wondering what he’s going to come back with. I can still say no and just leave. One thing I don’t think Paddy Dunne would ever do, and that’s force me into something I didn’t want to do, otherwise he could have done that already. “We could strip down to our underwear. Don’t know about you, but formal wear is so fucking uncomfortable.”

Chapter

Twenty-One

Tenley

By the time I’ve left the hotel room undetected and called a cab to take me home, it’s a little past 1am.

While Paddy had been stripping out of his outer clothes, albeit amusing to watch as he swayed around trying to remove his legs from his pants, the liquor still playing tricks with his equilibrium, I had excused myself to the bathroom.

I’d taken my time. I was conflicted. The thought of snuggling up with Paddy Dunne felt all kinds of wrong, but the investigating reporter part of me was desperate for more information. The thought of going back to Smoke with a heap of beneficial information for the Young Outlaws was thrilling. For some strange reason, I wanted the man’s approval. It can only be for the simple reason that he and the club are fundamental when it comes to Oriana. I don’t doubt that they will carefor her and keep her safe now that she’s part of the MC family. And if I can be part of that? Selfishly, it would be a way of repaying her, just a bit, for the hell I’d put her through when we were kids.

But I feel like an epic failure, because by the time I’d stepped back into the bedroom, Paddy was in a deep, drunken sleep. Guiltily, I’d taken in every inch, every muscle and smooth plane of skin as he lay flat out on his back. The tight-fitting boxer briefs showed a clear outline of the long shaft of his cock, even though on the slack. I had known that he was well endowed from when I was in his lap but now, I’m thinking was he hard or was he only part way there? If so, it would be one prize-winning sized eggplant emoji.

I toyed with the idea of sliding in between the sheets and lying beside him, wait it out and see if I could get more information out of him in the morning. But then I thought, horny male with morning wood, and quickly decided against it. I slipped back into my dress, grabbed my shoes and purse, and left.

The cool air of the early morning hits me as soon as I step outside of the hotel. Thankfully, the cab is pulling up in front of the building. I step inside, give the driver my address, then sink back into the seat and let out a deep, thankful breath.

Tonight has been… crazy, stupid, enlightening and probably a thesaurus worth of similar synonyms. And extremely risky. My stomach rolls. Beads of perspiration pop up on my forehead and lip. I close my eyes, swallow down and take deep breaths through my nose and let it out through my mouth, while listening to the quiet rumble of the cab’s engine, praying that I’m home soon.

When the cab pulls up outside my apartment, I hand him a couple of twenty-dollar bills, knowing that I’m overpaying but not giving a shit. I don’t feel too good. It could be anxiety, the aftereffect of being on permanent edge for the past however many hours. Or I’m just simply tired, but the wave of nausea and rolling of my stomach is telling me different and all I want to do is get inside, get out of these clothes and crawl into bed.

I press the button to call the elevator, as it’s on the ground floor, it opens immediately. When I reach my floor, I step out, my hand already in my purse, searching for the key. I unlock the door and step inside, kick off my shoes and start work on the zip at the side of my dress as the door closes behind me. I need out of these clothes and also need to pee.

I reach out in the dark for the lamp I have on the side table as you step inside the living area. As my dress drops to the floor, I flick the switch and the subtle light filters into the room.

“How was the date?” A deep growl fills the silence and I scream out like an old horror movie starlet.

Smoke

“Aargh!” she screams out, her hand slams across her tits that are now only covered by a lacy green-colored bra that is a similar shade to the dress that’s pooled on the floor at her bare feet. I’m surprised her bra has stayed up at all with the weight of her tits, andit does not have straps. I can’t help but appreciate the creaminess of her skin and the soft mounds of her breasts.

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