Page 26 of Hung Up
Before he can tell me—or refuse to, more like—Faith comes stumbling down the hallway and pushes past me. I watch as she heads toward the bar, orders a shot, and tosses it back without a second thought. My eyes widen, but before I can go up there and tell her to slow down, Wyatt leans down to whisper something in her ear. Her face contorts as her cheeks grow red, fists curling at her sides as she says something back. He looks somewhat apologetic, but whatever he says next causes her to loosen her fists. Bryce hands her a glass of clear liquid—water, probably—that she takes and downs in its entirety.
She storms off toward the front doors, bumping into a few people along the way. My gaze drifts back over to the bar to see Wyatt already staring at me, and once our gazes connect, he gestures for me to follow her. I waste no time in running after her, emerging into the slightly busy streets. Hastily looking around, I feel my heart rate quicken when I don’t spot her right away.
Which way could she have gone?
I decide to head to the right, praying I can find her in the throng of people. But as I’m passing by the gap between this bar and the one next to it, a hand reaches out and yanks me out of the light from the streetlamps and into the dark of the alleyway. I startle for a moment, my fight or flight mode kicking in—I will punch someone if I have to—but once my eyes adjust, I immediately recognize Faith’s curls.
“Jesus, Sweetheart,” I breathe, putting a hand to my frantically beating heart. “You can’t just?—”
Before I can finish my sentence and my brain can even process what’s happening, Faith presses her body into mine, wraps her arms around my neck, and pulls my lips down to hers.
I really hope this isn’t a dream.Pleasedon’t let this be a dream.
Her lips are claiming yet soft, moving against mine with a desperation that has me fumbling. My hands find their way to her hips as I pull her impossibly closer, angling my head so I can deepen the kiss. She moans quietly into my mouth, and all resolve, all strength, and any shred of will power that I have is gone.
My hands slide down and grip the back of her jean-clad thighs and hoist her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. Spinning us around while never breaking the kiss, I press her back against the brick of the bar's exterior. Her tongue slips into my mouth and begins to explore, and the sound that escapes my throat is guttural. Faith’s hands are in my hair, forcing the hat off my head, and it falls to the pavement behind me. She fists the strands at the nape of my neck and pulls me away from her lips as she gasps for air, so I quickly drop my head and start to kiss her neck. I find a sensitive spot behind her ear that has her breath catching, so I suck lightly which draws another moan out of her.
I swear to god, I might be in heaven.
Loud laughter from the street startles me out of my haze, making me stop the assault on her neck to gaze into her eyes. They’re slightly unfocused, a mix of arousal and alcohol, no doubt.Right, she’s been drinking.
She dips her head like she’s going to kiss me again, but I turn so she gets my cheek. I slowly lower her back down to her feet, pulling down her shirt, which had ridden up to just below her breasts, before I take a full step back. I bend down and pick up my hat, placing it back on my head as I study her.
Faith is staring at me with swollen lips and flushed cheeks, her already curly and unruly hair even more untamed. She’s panting softly, her hand on her chest as she no doubt feels her heart beating just as fast as my own. Then I watch it happen in real time: the regret and the shame. Her face crumples as she looks at me before a new fire lights behind her eyes.
And prepare for impact in three…two…one…
“If you don’t want to fuck me, Pretty Boy, just say that.”
That’s…not what I was expecting her to say.
“Sweetheart—”
“I’m a big girl and would rather you turn me down instead of kissing me like that and then dropping me like I disgust you.”
“Faith—”
“You don’t need to humiliate a girl. And here I thought you had good manners. Jokes on me, I guess, because you’re just?—”
I close the gap between us and grip her face between my hands, crashing my lips to hers before she can continue this pointless tirade. Her hands land on my wrists as she kisses me back, but I pull away and rest my forehead against hers before she can deepen this one.
“You’re drunk, Sweetheart,” I tell her gently, my thumb stroking her cheek as I pull back so I can look her in the eye. “I need to know you want this. Sober.”
“I’m not drunk, Jesse,” she says, and the use of my name instead of my nickname sends my heart into overdrive. “You know what? This was a mistake.” She lowers my hands from her face and takes five steps away from me. “I’m just horny, that’s all. My needs aren’t being met, and every woman has needs, and that’s all there is to it.”
At the risk of making a total fool of myself, I tell her, “Then sleep with me.”
“Absolutely not,” she responds with a huff of disbelief.
“Why not? You just kissed me.”
“Because you’re infuriating, and it was a mistake.”
“Hate sex is sometimes the best sex.” I take one step closer, praying she can’t see the hard-on I’m sporting in my jeans right now. “Come on, Sweetheart. It can just be one night where we both get what we want, and then we can pretend it never happened.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t do casual.”
“So it’s a relationship you’re after?”
