Page 21 of Fourth Wheel
I’m nearly to the door when she pipes up.
“Permission to exit the building, Mr. Haas?”
I itch to smack her ass or nip at her lips—anything to put her in her place. She knows it, too, based on the way she bites the corner of her lip as she eyes me from head to toe.
I refuse to play this game, though. My resolve is dialed in and locked tight, so all she gets from me is a deeper scowl as I reach past her, push open the door, and hold it open with one arm.
“After you.” I nod my head. I follow her, then turn around and make quick work of locking up.
“Where are you parked?” I ask as I pull on the handle to ensure it’s locked.
When she doesn’t answer, I look over my shoulder to find her standing unreasonably close. She’s got one eyebrow raised, and this wicked glint behind her eyes.
Fuck, this girl’s trouble. All she has to do is look at me and my body is ready to betray my sensibilities. I don’t care if she wants to be friends… mutuals... acquaintances. Nights like this cannot happen again. If I’ve learned anything in the last few hours, it’s that I have no control over my reaction to her.
“What?” I press when she gives me a once-over again, ignoring my question completely.
She blinks in slow motion, her lashes resting against her cheekbones before she opens her eyes and beams up at me.
“I parked out back,” she reveals, giving me a look that’s anything but innocent. “But don’t worry,” she adds. “I know a shortcut.”
Before I know what’s happening, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward Clinton’s with a surprising amount of strength.
“Maddie, stop,” I insist, pulling my hand out of her grasp just as she turns down the narrow alley between the buildings.
Calling the walkway between Clinton’s and The Oak an alley is a generous assessment—it’s barely wide enough for two people to walk through side by side.
My frustration ratchets up as she struts through the space at a brisk pace. She’s more than halfway into the damn alley before she turns back and calls to me.
“Come on, slowpoke! Keep up!”
“Maddie,” I grit out as I stalk after her. What choice do I have? Let her trek through an alley alone after midnight? It would take me three times as long to walk around the building and meet her on the other side.
She knew what she was doing by running down this way. And yet here I am. Chasing after her. Playing her game.
I half jog, half sidestep through the narrow space, trying to keep pace with this girl.
The next time I look up, she’s stopped, standing stock still, her back to me.
“Are you okay?” I ask on an exhale when I finally catch up to her. I’m breathless from the adrenaline rush of chasing her.
She doesn’t answer. Not verbally, at least.
I don’t know if she steps back or if I shift forward. Maybe we both move at once, but I hiss as her ass brushes against the front of my pants.
I desperately need to put distance between us. I reach out to grip her hip, intending to shift her forward so she’s not right up on my dick. But thanks to the darkness of the alley and her ridiculous half shirt, my fingers find purchase against the soft flesh of her stomach.
Her abs contract against my hand, and she gasps in response to my touch. Without conscious thought, I tighten my hold, digging into her skin and pulling her back toward me.
“Dempsey.” Her head lands on my chest as she cranes back to meet my gaze.
“Dammit, Maddie.” I grunt as her strawberry sweetness fills my nostrils and leaves me senseless. I inexplicably bend lower, tug her closer, and nuzzle into her hair like an addict craving his next hit.
She smellsso good. She feels even better.
She rolls her hips against me, and desire shoots through every nerve in my goddamn body. My dick’s hardening behind my zipper, and my balls are practically weeping with want.
Did I experience a lobotomy when I followed her into this alley? What the fuck am I doing? There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea.
