Page 19 of Stick Fight

Dammit, I should go before I do or say something I shouldn’t. I’m about to turn, bolt, but then her eyes go wide, flashing with something that looks like horror. She inches back, pulling the sheets up to cover her legs.

“I’m sorry…I misread.” She tries to scurry back more, like she’s trying to escape through the wall. My heart slams in my chest. Shit.

She doesn’t think I want her.

She couldn’t be more wrong.

This time, my steps are deliberate, each one more certain than the last. I sit beside her on the bed, and the mattress dips under my weight. She tries to shift away, but she never, ever has to run from me and I want her to know that. I put my hand on her arm to stop her, and the second my fingers make contact with her skin, soft, warm, so incredibly perfect, I know it’s a mistake. My resolve starts to unravel like an old pair of laces, the fraying edges threatening to snap.

“Don’t for a minute think I don’t want you,” I admit honestly, my breath as unsteady as my body, as I shake my head. “Gabs, tonight…” I run a finger over the fabric of her T-shirt, trying to keep my control from slipping. “Seeing you in this… and Jesus, Gabby, when you bent over…” I can’t help but laugh, though it's tight, edged with frustration. “Were you trying to drive me crazy?”

“It was an accident.”

“Yeah, just like what happened in my pants. Big fucking accident,” I mutter, and her eyes flicker with amusement.

She bites her lip, and my shoulders relax, a grin tugging at her mouth, and I lovethat.

“Really?” she asks, voice low, teasing.

“Fuck yeah. I can’t believe you have to ask. I was sure you noticed that an anaconda decided to visit Vegas.”

She’s trying so hard not to laugh. “Anaconda. You’re kind of scaring me there, Romeo.”

“I mean, I don’t have an anaconda…I just mean. Fuck, Gabs.”

“No, what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying anacondas aren’t a species found in Nevada. Neither are indigos, pythons or king cobras.”

Shut up, dude. Shut the hell up.

“I had no idea you were so well versed in snakes.” Oh, she’s having so much fun with me right now. “Should I ask?” Her eyes widen as she playfully points down. “Wait, is yours…venomous?”

“Oh my God.”

She glances down and, yeah, I’m hard as a rock, tenting my boxers, which—surprisingly—seems to please her.

This woman. Is. Killing. Me.

“Yeah, I’m hard,” I admit. “You’re so fucking hot, Gabby. I nearly rubbed one out in the shower.”

Her eyes go wide, then she laughs, so loud and so easy, it wraps around me and holds tight, filling me with an unfamiliar warmth.

She absently plucks at the blankets. “You’re just saying that.”

“I don’t say things for the sake of saying them. It’s true,” I snort out. “You can trust me on that.”

She cocks her head, real curiosity in her eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t want you questioning the length of my shower,” I blurt out. “Although it probably wouldn’t have been that long,” I admit and when she chuckles, finding enjoyment in my suffering, I shake my head, already regretting that confession.

One perfectly manicured brow arches. “Oh, so you’re not just fast on the ice?”

“Jesus,” I mutter, my body on fire, but loving the easy comradery between us and the way her mood is shifting, brightening. My mood? Oh, it’s just a raging fire storm in all its horny fucking agonized glory. Yeah.

I lace my fingers through hers and shift closer, forcing my thoughts to settle before we go any further. My smile falls, and I shift into seriousness, my gaze searching her face, looking for something, anything to give me clarity. She stares back, her eyes seeking an answer to a question I don’t know.

“Gabs,” I begin, my voice soft but steady. “I know I promised no questions, but I have to ask. Is this about revenge?” The question hangs heavy between us, and I immediately see a storm brewing in the depths of her eyes. I quickly add, “It’s okay if it is. If that’s what you want, and need. I’m okay with that.”

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