Page 28 of Desperate Haste

“Little fox, I don’t know if it waseverjust sex to me.”

My jaw clenches at his confession and I feel my back go stiff. “What are you saying?”

He doesn’t even skip a beat before pulling the corner of his lips back and giving me a closed lip smile. “I’m saying I might actually kinda like you.”

“I don’tdofeelings,” I sneer, trying to regain control of my heart rate which is reaching critical levels.

“Not yet you don’t,” he says a little more confidently than I’m comfortable with before planting a quick kiss on my cheek. He pulls away and walks to the passenger side door, opens it, and waits.

I walk over and before getting in I turn to him and repeat, “I don’t do feelings.”

“That’s okay, you’ll come around. Now get in the truck, princess, I’m taking you home.” Suddenly annoyed, I want to stomp my foot and tell him I’ll walk but I don’t have that option since we’re too far outside the city. Reluctantly, I pull myself into my seat and as I’m turned away from him, he slaps me hard on my butt.

“And I’m counting this as our first date,” he announces, slamming the door before I can respond.

“This isn’t a date!” I shout at him through the glass of the window and he throws his head back laughing. Once inside the truck, he sets his hand on my thigh and looks at me through the shaggy pieces of hair that have fallen into his eyes with a wide smile on his stupid handsome face. I want to slap his hand away from its resting spot but my traitor of a heart wants it to stay too much.

“I hate you,” I grumble.

“That’s not what you were saying ten minutes ago.”

I roll my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest once I’m buckled in. Once he’s strapped in, too, he grabs the steering wheel with one hand and looks over to me before turning on the ignition.

“So, am I just dropping you off or am I coming inside?” Between the tattoos, the shaggy hair, the flexed arm muscles, and the lingering sensation of him ramming into me, I find my annoyance towards him dissipating quickly and the desire for him to stay starting to settle in. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction I know he’s vying for, I look out the window and try to come off like I don’t care.

“You can come in,” I mumble quietly into my shoulder.

“What was that?” He leans over and pushes an ear closer to me.

“I said you can come in,” I snap, annoyed that he’s won me over once more.

“And you say you don’t have feelings for me.” He’s smug as he says it and gives me a wink. I scoff dramatically at him and put my feet up on the dash. As he puts the truck into drive, he looks at me with another happy smile.

“This is a pretty good first date if I do say so myself,” he exclaims with a nod.

“It. Is not. A date!” I shout but he’s already laughing. Instead of responding, he turns the radio up and places a hand on my thigh. As the cab of his pickup fills with the sounds of country music, I can’t stop myself from liking the way his thumb gently moves back and forth on my leg.

16

MALCOLM

The sound of my fists hitting the punching bag fills my ears as I work out some of the pent up energy and frustration that’s been accumulating inside of me.

After dropping Ophelia off at home after our ‘not a date’ lunch date, we spent another few hours together before I finally went home. I didn’t want to leave but she told me she had to be up early the next day and I knew I had to open at the bar so I reluctantly dragged my ass home. I would have loved to be able to stay at her place for one more night but after the way we left things on our date, I had a good feeling that I’d get another chance with her.

But that was two and a half weeks ago.

Two and a half weeks and not a single release of any kind—okay maybe there were a couple self-inflicted times—and my body is going crazy. Never in my adult life have I gone without an orgasm for more than a week. Okay, maybe there was a time or two but that was purely because I wasn’t in the mood and didn’t want to. But holy shit do I want to. Not want,need. And it’s a need I am only interested in being fulfilled by her.

By her round hips and soft, warm toned skin.

By her long, chocolate brown hair and vixen eyes.

My body is craving hers like it craves a meal or water.

I want neither. I just wanther.

“Boy, if you hit that thing any harder it’s going to come right off that chain it’s tied to,” Marshall jeers as he steps up next to the hanging bag I’m sparring with. I drop my gloves and look at him, panting from over exertion, and I use the back of my glove to wipe my hair out of my face.

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