Page 85 of Betting on the Bad Boy
I crawled off the table and walked over to him. Standing on my tiptoes, I planted a kiss on his chin. “It wasn’t amusing. It was hot.” I pressed my cheek against his chiseled chest and hugged him around the waist. I hadn’t laughed that hard in forever. This guy...he was really getting to me.
He kissed my forehead. “Happy New Year, Faith.”
“Damn, we missed it.” I looked at the TV screen and saw they were counting down to the next time zone.
“Don’t I get a New Year’s kiss?”
“You want a kiss? After all that? Wasn’t there enough kissing between pops?”
His arm went around my waist, and he tilted my face up to his. As he moved in, his eyes searched mine. I closed my eyes as our lips met. This wasn’t the crushing, scorching, frantic kiss I’d come to expect from him. His tongue tentatively sought mine. His lips were tender, tasting, testing, questioning, demanding more from me than his body had over the past several hours.
He pulled away first. “Want to stay over tonight?”
The moment passed.
“I can’t. I’ve got to go.” I untangled myself from his arms and searched for my clothes. Jeans on the floor. Underwear flung over the back of a barstool. Shirt...damn, what did I do withmy shirt? I got dressed, making sure I put on every article of clothing. No need to repeat that scene in the office again.
Dante gathered the bubble wrap off the pool table and tossed it in a large trash can against the wall. “Do you need me to drive you home?”
“No. I’m fine now. Thanks for, uh?—”
“The game of pool?”
“Yeah. Although we never finished. I guess you forfeit.”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I had you.”
“You had me all right. But you still lost the game.”
“No fair. Want to go again?” he raised one eyebrow at me.
“Not tonight. I don’t think my ass could take another round on that table. Maybe some other time.”
“Sure. Some other time then.” As we talked, I walked toward the door. He unlocked it for me and stepped back. “Drive safe.”
“Thanks.” I stood for a moment in the awkward silence. Should I hug him? Give him a kiss goodbye? Nah. A high five? Aw, forget it. I opened the door, walked through it, and let it close behind me. It would be so easy to climb up the steps to his apartment and crawl under the covers with him. If I was going to be honest with myself, that’s what I wanted.
I stopped and looked back toward the door just as the lights went out inside. It would be better if we kept it physical. Less messy and easier to handle when we went our separate ways.
Turning toward my car, I sure hoped I’d be able to walk tomorrow. Two hard rounds in one day might leave me with some temporary collateral damage. I needed to pace myself with Dante. I had enough material now to almost finish my book and would probably be up all night trying to capture our strip pool session on my computer.
Being around him, I’d been able to temporarily forget. But as I pulled my hood over my head and forged through the snowy parking lot to my car, the writing on the page came back tome. Was someone watching? And how long would it be before I needed to tell Dante?
For the time being, there wasn’t anything I could do but keep an eye out. Obviously, whoever it was, was trying to freak me out. Since they hadn’t gone public yet, there must be something else they wanted.
I started the car and rubbed my hands in front of the vent, waiting for the cool air to switch to warm. Dante Bishop sure was full of surprises. It would be awhile before I could play pool again without fantasizing about him sinking his balls right into my pocket.
CHAPTER 42
Dante
I slida chair out from under the table and set my briefcase down. The girls were back in town and had started up the group meetings again. They were deep in conversation, though I couldn’t tell what they were talking about. Not that I cared.
My mind was preoccupied. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Faith since we rang in the New Year together last week. My day job had grown more demanding over the past few days. I was ramping up to take on new projects and bigger clients, making it even harder to find time to spend with my favorite distraction.
Before I had a chance to settle in my seat, Brittany threw her hands up. “How can you even think that, Bailey? He’s perfect for her. She’s just too stupid to see it.”
“Oh, I think she sees it,” Bethany said. “How can she not? She’s just protecting herself. She’s been so hurt before.”
