Page 10 of Betting on the Bad Boy
Placing my foot in his hands, I pushed myself up as he lifted. My fingers grasped at the lever on the window, desperate to unlatch it.
“Dammit, I’m not high enough.”
He lowered me back to the ground. “Time for Plan B. Here, get up on my shoulders.”
I hesitated.
“Come on, I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He squatted down low so I could climb onto his back.
A gentleman… he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d ever done anything gentle. I threw a leg over each of his shoulders and grabbed his hands, sandwiching his neck right between my thighs.
Oooh. A pulsing sensation hummed through my core as I made contact through my jeans with the back of his neck. This was the closest I’d come to any kind of sexual interaction in well over a year, and my inner thighs clenched in anticipation.
“Whoa, easy there.” Dante grabbed onto my legs, his hands wrapping around my calves, before he stood up and moved toward the wall.
I squeezed his neck between my thighs like my life depended on it and fumbled with the lock.
“Got it!” I pushed the window open. A cool rush of air blew past me into the room. “Now I just need to get through.” I grabbed onto the window ledge and tried to hoist myself up.
Dante put his hands under my thighs in an effort to boost me higher.
“Just a little further.” I grunted with the effort as his hands roamed over my legs. Shivers cascaded through me, like a stampede of tingles that needed to be squelched pronto.
“Can you see anything yet? You don’t want to jump into the dumpster.”
I searched the ground. “Yeah, it’s right under the window, but I think I can avoid it. Can you lift me just a little higher?”
His hands scrambled under my legs. As I wriggled to get a foot up on his shoulder, he moved me closer to the window, and his palms slid to my butt. He pushed, one hand on my ass and the other making contact with the apex of my thighs.
“Oh, my god.” Heat pooled between my legs. His hand, oh crap, his fingers were applying pressure in exactly the wrongspot. Okay, it was the right spot, but definitely the wrong spot considering the company and the situation. “Get your hand off my?—”
“Sorry!” Dante yelled as I made it through the window.
I didn’t care where I landed. My top priority was to escape. A metallic thud sounded as something crunched underneath me. In my rush to relieve my thighs of the pressure of Dante’s fingers, I’d miscalculated my landing spot. I’d had to do something to get away from him. We’d just met, and already he’d touched me in places I’d been trying to ignore for over a year. Thanks to that boost, I wasn’t going to be able to ignore them anymore.
Stumbling to my feet, I trudged through the garbage bags to the edge of the dumpster. The scent of rancid grease mixed with decaying produce assaulted my nose. I hoisted a leg over the side and jumped down to the pavement. An unrecognizable layer of slime covered my lower half, and some sort of liquid smeared through my hair. I couldn’t go back in the bar looking like this.
I tried the handle of the back door. Thankfully, it opened with a loud creak. I crept down the empty hallway to the storeroom. As I turned the knob and pushed it open, Dante moved toward the door.
“Thanks.” He looked me up and down. “What the hell happened to you?”
“You sent me sailing into the freaking dumpster. I don’t know what this is on my pants, and there’s crap in my hair, too.”
“I told you to watch out.” Stepping back, he took in my matted hair, slimy jeans, and the grease spots dotting my shirt. As he walked in a slow circle around me, a giant smile spread across those damn kissable lips.
I pulled my shirt away from my skin. “There’s no way Jess is going to let me in her car like this.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way.” He crossed his arms over his expansive chest. “I live over the bar. Why don’t you come upstairs and wash off a little?”
“Seriously?” I focused on the tiny tic pulsing in my jaw. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I just want to get home. Just because you had your hand up my?—”
“Hey!” He put his hands up, palms out, in an effort to stop the words from sailing out of my mouth. “I was just trying to be a nice guy.” He smiled. “By all means, go back to the bar and finish your beer. I’m sure your friends will enjoy the ambiance.”
As he turned around to head toward the door to the bar, I looked down at the goopy mess covering my clothes. I really couldn’t get in the car like this. Jess would kill me. The smell of grease would linger on the cloth seats for months.
“Fine. Yes, a shower would be good.”
He stopped and whipped around to face me. “I’m glad you’ve decided to prioritize your personal hygiene.”
