Page 9 of Crashed
He found the rip in her jeans just below her ass cheek, and the rough pads of his fingers grazed her bare skin, making her gasp. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her legs around him and grind on that massive bulge in his pants until she got herself off. It felt too good. Deacon felt too good.
Things were getting out of control. Yeah, she’d agreed to be his human sex toy, and despite his being a complete asshole, she was desperate to have him inside her. But that desperation was enough to give her the strength to push him back. She needed to get her feelings under control before they took this any farther, and the alcohol wasn’t helping. “Whoa. Hold up.”
The only light inside her place came from the streetlights shining through her windows. Deacon was mainly in shadow, but she could still see his strong profile, the square jaw, the straight nose, the way his green eyes glinted through the darkness, intent on her. “What is it?” He was breathing hard.
She put some distance between them. “Our first date is tomorrow. This deal doesn’t start until then.”
His expression darkened. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.” She crossed her arms so he wouldn’t see her hands shaking.
He cursed, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. “You can turn it off just like that?”
“Looks that way.”
He ran a hand through his mussed hair. She couldn’t even remember having run her hands through it. But she obviously had. That’s how out of control Deacon made her. Right then she’d never been more terrified of a single person in her entire life, and that was saying something. He was dangerous. Doing this was stupid, reckless, but what choice did she have?
That steely control dropped into place. “I guess I’ll leave you alone then.”
She followed him to the door. One thing had been playing on her mind, and before she could stop herself, she blurted, “And the same goes for you.”
He stopped and turned to face her, brow raised.
“Exclusivity.”
His expression darkened again, and he smiled. “You’re more than enough for me, Alex.”
She hated herself for asking but had to. “What about Blondie?”
His brows shot up. “Who?”
“The Barbie you had hanging off your arm.”
He chuckled, then wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her in close. “You mean Candice?” He shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about there.”
She shrugged and tried to step back. He wouldn’t let her. “I’m not worried.”
“No?”
“No. I just don’t like the idea of sloppy seconds. You know how it is. Why was your office door locked?” she said before she could stop herself. Damn third beer.
“Was it? I didn’t realize.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“I wasn’t fucking her over my desk, if that’s what you’re asking me.”
That’s exactly what she was asking. There was always the wall, or the floor. The thought disappeared when he brushed his thumb across her jaw. She couldn’t read the look on his face as he studied her, but it turned her insides to mush. Then he kissed her again, a light touch that still managed to make her toes curl. “Candice is an acquaintance. Her brother is a friend of mine. It wasn’t a date. She just showed up, at a loose end. I’ve never slept with her, and I don’t plan to.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again, jaw flapping like a dying fish.
He grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex.”
She hated the relief that washed over her at his words. She also hated that when he left, she wished he’d come back.
Chapter Three
Getting out of bed would be a colossal mistake. Alex knew what was coming, what the day would bring, and was powerless to stop it. Kind of like being tied to the tracks in one of those old black-and-white movies and watching a freight train come barreling toward you full speed. “Helpless” was the word that came to mind. Fucking helpless.
