Page 17 of Hero Hair

Teala doesn’t make any stops on the way back to our table. Her eyes are all mine. So is her smile. It’s equal parts sweetness and mischief. An unfamiliar stirring in my chest alerts me to the fact that I’m wasting my time right now. I’m not getting laid. And my dick is steel hard, lying uncomfortably against my leg. I need to wrap this up quickly so I can move on to a more advantageous situation.

I pretend to be involved in a text message when she sits down.

“I’m probably keeping you. If you want to get going, I understand. The least I can do is cut you early,” she says. The smile in her voice forces me to look at her. She fizzles like fire as I rake my gaze over her neck, lips, and then her huge doe eyes. She bites her lip.

As silently as possible, I groan. “You’re not holding me up. It’s fine.” It’s not, but I can’t control my words when I’m this turned on. I look at my watch. I know what time it is, I just saw it on my phone. I only raise my wrist to show off my designer timepiece, an accessory I’m very proud of. “It’s getting late, though.”

She puffs out an irritated breath. “Especially if I’m not getting laid,” she whispers. “I’ll walk you out?”

That’s right. She lives in walking distance. More importantly she wants to get laid. I place a couple bills in with the check and make a gesture for her to lead the way out.

It’s dark. I can’t see her as well outside. “I could walk you home,” I offer.

She clears her throat. “My friends are there.”

“I feel like we have babysitters.”

“They don’t trust me. And for good reason.”

It must be a bitch to be friends with women. Teala seems to be on a whole different wavelength than her friends. It makes a little more sense why winning this bet means more to her than it should. I’d tell my friends to fuck off, but then again I don’t have anything to prove.

She walks next to me, careful not to brush my arm as she goes.

“This is me,” I say when we reach my car. “I feel like it should be the other way around. Me walking you to your car.” And then fucking you in the back seat doggy style, with your face pressed up against the glass. Then I’d make you clean off the makeup smears. Yes, I fancy that plan quite a lot.

“You do have dating instincts!” Teala quips. “Gentlemanly ones.”

I shake my head, laughing. “I don’t. But that’s okay. It doesn’t make a difference for what we’re doing.” She’s silhouetted by a street light. Even in the dark I can see her face fall as she averts her gaze. “Look at me, Teala.”

She doesn’t. Probably because I told her to. I like that and hate that at the same time. “Look at me now,” I say, lowering my voice. “Look at me now, uh.” I thrust my hips forward and clasp my hands behind my head. “Look at me now.” I flash her a hip-hop smile, minus the grill.

She laughs and looks at me. “Oh, God. You’re one of those people!”

“What kind? The motherfuckin’ awesome kind?” I ask, bringing my arms down to cross over my broad chest. Her gaze skims my muscles. I flex a little harder.

She swallows—an audible noise.

Her smile is electric. “The kind who quotes rap songs in everyday conversation. I have a friend who does that. She drops down to get her twerk on wherever we are, at the mention of dropping something. It’s ridiculous.”

I lift my chin. “Yet, you’re laughing. Maybe you’re right, though. Cool people quote rap songs. It makes life less boring.”

I take a step toward her. I’m in her space. She wants me in it. Nothing has been more obvious. Her lips part, her hands in fists by her sides.

Teala’s shoulders loosen a touch. “Are you okay to drive?” she asks, glancing at my car.

She’s underestimating my alcohol tolerance. It’s fair. Everyone does. I have the ability to drink more than anyone I know and still function on a level most would consider normal.

Bending down, I wrap one hand around the back of her neck and pull her head toward mine. I stop before her skin touches mine. Against her lips I say, “Only if you’re okay going home by yourself.”

I can taste the desire in her breaths as we trade air. She’s putty in my hands, head limp and ready to go anywhere I want it. My dick raises its hand. It wants to be called on.

“Until next time. You really should firm up what’s acceptable on the second date,” I say, backing off a little.

Teala slams her eyes shut. The motion wrinkles her brows.

“Why did it have to be you? Why are you my type? Why couldn’t I have showed up tonight and found a nice, normal guy? One who actually wanted to date and not fuck. Someone less good-looking. Someone more…more decent.”

I’ve never looked at myself as a bad person, but if you break it down in the terms she did, I’m the definition of a bad guy. “Every guy wants to fuck. Don’t delude yourself,” I reply. Slowly, brushing the side of her neck as I go, I release her, giving her head freedom.

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