Page 3 of All for You

She really is just too cute…and I have to have her!

Chapter Three

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Rani

One week, then two goes by. I have my birthday and try to put the man from the bar out of my mind. But I just can’t. He lingers right on the edge of my thoughts and invades my dreams when I sleep at night. There was just something about him.

My best friend has started to ask questions about why the fuck I’m so distracted. And I have no idea what to tell her. Why am I so distracted? Why does my mind constantly trip back to that night nearly two weeks ago?

I make the decision that I have to go back. It’s the only way I can move on. Surely it was the heat of the moment, the taboo of being somewhere I shouldn’t, that made him seem…sexier, more mysterious, more manly.

And, short of breaking the law, going back to the bar is the only way I’m ever going to be certain. So here I am. Standing outside the same bar I snuck into with my sister. This time it’s going to be harder to get in since last time I had Ashley’s boyfriend to help vouch for me.

I gather my courage and walk closer to the bar. It seems safer than staying out here in the dark parking lot. My heels click on the pavement as I move towards the neon lights of the bar and I psych myself up to do this and go back home. All I have to do is look at other guys, maybe if HE is here check him out from afar, find out that he really isn’t as hot as I thought he was, or that everyone in there is super hot, and then get the fuck out. I can do this. I can…

My thoughts are brought to a screeching halt when a hand lands on my arm stopping me in my tracks. For just a second I start to panic until I find out who has me.

“What are you doing here, little girl?” I recognize his voice immediately.

My eyes widen as he pulls me deeper into the shadows with him. “I…,” I can find no reason to lie to him, “I came back to find out if the other night was just a… normal experience to have in a bar.”

“And what kind of experience did you have?”

Shit! The trouble with the truth is no matter how you stack it, you’re always going to be in hot water with someone. You’re already in the stew pot…best get it over with fast. “I…it was exciting to do something I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing.”

“Really? And are you looking for that kind of excitement again? Looking to be a bad girl for another night?”

I raise my chin and square my shoulders.

“And what if I was? It shouldn’t mean anything to you what I do. You’re not my brother or…um, some other manly presence in my life that does have influence over it.”

“Like your daddy?”

“You are definitely not my daddy.”

His brow cocks in open challenge of what I just said. It kind of feels like we are talking about more than just my family dynamic.

“If I was your Daddy, I’d have every right to throw you over my knee and spank that rebellious little ass, especially when I am quite certain I told you not to come back to a place like this.”

“You didn’t specify or come right out and say as much. It was more implied and I’m horrible at social cues. Not to mention doing what everyone else thinks I should do.”

“Then I’m telling you now. Don’t go in there again.”

“And just why is that?”

His smile stretches across his face as he pulls back a little bit drawing attention to how close he was before. I didn’t realize we were standing so close.

“Oh please. Don’t tell me you’re a fucking virgin who doesn’t understand pussy so sweet would make men do things they normally wouldn’t do - like try to take it.”

His eyes rake over me and my attention is immediately focused on the fact I am in a short skirt with very little in the way of underwear on right now. My cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being called out the way he did. I look everywhere but at him and try to contain my mortification. Maybe he’ll just keep going on and not notice. He has to be guessing…right? No one can tell if you are or are not…a virgin…right?

Before I can judge if he is going to be able to tell or not, he lets out a string of curse words and takes me by the arm so he can pull me to his car. Once again I am bundled into the front seat and being helped into my seatbelt.

He doesn’t say a word. Not when he gets in or when he turns towards my house which he already knows the location of because of ‘that night’.

Finally, I chance a glance at him, only to find him looking at me instead of the road. It’s the catalyst that sets him off.

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