“Sorry.” He smiled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She glared at him. God, he looked good. He also really pissed her off. “Get your hands off me.”
He released her without argument, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She didn’t bother saying a word and resumed walking toward her car. He fell into step right next to her. She could smell him, his spicy pine scent wafted toward her and she wanted to punch him. Hit him for leaving her and making her feel pitiful and unworthy. He was a selfish ass who didn’t consider anyone else but himself.
And yet she was inexplicably drawn to him. As if she couldn’t help herself.
It was annoying as hell.
“What do you want?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.
“I wanted to see you,” he admitted, the velvety deep timbre of his voice washing over her even on the loud city street. It was an intimate sound, made her feel as if they were the only ones there though she saw a woman coming out of the Starbucks not twenty feet away from them. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
“Great. I don’t accept your apology. Now leave me alone.” She saw her car in the distance and the temptation to grab him, shove him in her car and never let him go was overwhelming.
She wouldn’t do it. No matter what, she refused to ask him to do anything because he would reject her. She knew it.
“I know I was a jerk. Trust me, I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up sexily. The guy was way too good looking. “And you have every right to be mad at me.”
Stacy snorted. “I’m furious with you.”
“Fine, you’re furious with me, I get it. I deserve it, and I don’t blame you. But.” He stopped, and her feet automatically stopped too. She couldn’t help but be curious about what he had to say. “I feel like shit for what I did, and I want to make it up to you.”
She crossed her arms and cocked a brow. It would take a lot for him to be able to make up for what he did to her last night. “How?”
“I can’t do it out here.” He glanced around them. “Where’s your car?”
“Over there.” She tipped her head in its general direction.
“The silver Honda?”
“Nope.” Oh God, she was going to tell him which car was hers and…and then what?
Beg him to come home with her so she could jump him?
Probably.
Don’t be stupid.
Sometimes a woman couldn’t help but be stupid. Especially when the stupid behavior brought a few orgasms in her direction.
“The blue Toyota.”
“Wrong again.” If he couldn’t figure it out, she wasn’t going to tell him.
“The gold Nissan. The Altima right there.” He flicked his chin.
Damn it. He guessed it. “That’s the one. Why do you care?”
“Let me go with you.” His eyes, his entire expression took on a pleading look and he reached out and took her hand. Intertwined their fingers and gave hers a gentle squeeze. The instant connection flared between them, hot and bright. “Please, Stace. Let me do this for you.”
“Let you do what for me?”
“I’m going to give you what you want.”
“And what is that?” Nerves danced along her skin at the intent she saw in his suddenly darkened gaze.
“My friendship.”
Chapter Four
“I don’t want it.” Stacy shoved at Eric’s chest, and he released his hold on her hand. Watched helplessly as she turned on her heel and strode away from him, toward the gold Altima just up the street.
He followed after her. No way was he going to let her leave, not tonight. “Why not?” he called after her.
“Because it’s full of expectations and bullshit that I don’t want to deal with,” she answered from over her shoulder.
She wouldn’t even turn to face him. Not that the view from behind was bad. She wore black pants that stretched across her ass and the sight of her ass made his mouth water. Her shirt was made of a skimpy sparkly fabric. He could see the tank top she wore beneath it, and he itched to touch her again. Slip his hand underneath those shirts and feel her skin warm beneath his fingertips.
He wanted her with an intensity that scared the shit out of him. And tonight, sober and without any sort of defenses up, he wanted to experience it. Experience her.
Just once. Just to say he had.
Eric frowned. That wasn’t true. He’d let her have him for as long as she wanted him. Which right now, didn’t look to be for very long at all.
She hit the keyless remote she pulled out of her purse and a beep sounded, the car lights flashed. She rounded the front of the car, her hand reaching for the handle and he was on her. Pressed her against the side of the car, her back nestled to his front. She struggled against him.
“Let go of me,” she yelled.
“Hell, no.” He pushed her harder against the car, his groin nudging against her ass. She felt amazing. Smelled even better and he breathed deep, buried his face in her hair. “I need you to listen to me, Stace.”
“Stop calling me that.” She struggled some more but he swore she weakened just the slightest bit.
“Calling you what? Stace? You don’t like my nickname for you?” He nuzzled the side of her head, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her forehead and his cock hardened.
“I hate it.” She went limp in his arms, her head falling forward to press against the top of the car. “I hate you.” Her voice was weak, she felt suddenly fragile in his arms and guilt assuaged him.
But he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t let her go until he pleaded his final case.
“You don’t hate me.” He spun her around by the waist so she faced him and she glared up at him. Her expression was one of mass confusion. “You can’t hate me no matter how much you try.”
“You are so arrogant.”
“I’m telling the truth and you know it.” He cupped her face, his thumb skittering across her cheek, along her lips. “Can’t you feel it?”
“Feel what?” She knew exactly what he was talking about, he knew it.
“The connection.” With the subtlest of movements he thrust his hips against her. Let her feel exactly what she did to him. “Between us.” He was only repeating the words she said last night.
“Eric.” She rested her curled fists on his chest and hit him once. Then again, lighter this time. “I want you to leave.”
“No you don’t.” He traced the outline of her lips, then drew his finger along the seam. Her lips parted, and he dipped his finger just inside. Felt the warm dampness of her mouth and his cock surged against the fly of his jeans. “Let’s go back to your place and hang out, Stace. What do you say?”
Before she could answer, his hand fell away from her mouth and he kissed her. Gently, sweetly, most likely the sweetest kiss he’d ever given another person ever. He wasn’t forceful, he wasn’t passionate and crazed and full of lust like he wanted to be.
This was going to be a slow and steady seduction. It would have to be, what with how jumpy she was.
“I should say no,” she whispered when he broke the kiss.
He smiled, knew he had her. “Then I’ll keep kissing you out here in this very public place until you finally say yes.”
She squealed and glanced around, beating on his chest once again with her clenched fists. “Oh my God, let me go.”
“Not until you say yes.”
“Fine, yes. Get in the car.” She sounded irritated and he wanted to shout in triumph. Instead he lifted himself away from her and went around the back of the car, opened the passenger side door and slipped inside.
Stacy already sat behind the steering wheel, her hand resting on the key, ready to the turn the ignition. She turned to look at him, her expression serious, lips firmed.
He still found her incredibly sexy even though she looked royally pissed.
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“If that’s what you want.” He pulled on his seatbelt. Needed to do something to distract him from what he really wanted to do.
Like grab her face and kiss her senseless.
“That’s definitely what I want.” She turned the key and the car started. “I don’t trust you.”
“You probably shouldn’t,” he agreed.
“What you did to me last night was rude.”
“Very.”
An irritated little growl escaped her and she glanced over her shoulder, then at her side mirror before she pulled out onto the street. “If you expect me to feed you, you’re wrong.”
“I’ll pay for the pizza,” he said cheerily.
“Who said we were having pizza?”
“I did.” Unable to help himself he reached out, settled his hand on her thigh. Her skin was warm beneath the fabric and he wished she had a skirt on so he could touch her bare flesh. “We’ll eat pizza, watch TV and hang out.”
“Hang out.” She snorted. “You’re going to try and jump me, aren’t you?”
“Hell, no.” He shook his head. “I just want to be your friend. That’s all you want, right?”
“Right.”
“We’ll take it slow.”
“Yes. I want to take it slow. That’s exactly what I want.” She made a right at the next intersection. “I just broke up with my fiancé, remember? I don’t want to just dive right into another relationship, thing, whatever.”
“I don’t blame you. Your fiancé is a major asshole for what he did to you.”
“Almost as much an asshole as you, hmm?” She shot him an amused smile, a wicked gleam in her pretty eyes and he felt a little dazzled by the sight of her.
“Absolutely, though I’m going to work my hardest at redeeming myself.” And that was the damn truth.
“I must warn you. You’re going to be working on it for a long time.”
Eric rubbed his hands together. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Stacy really didn’t care anymore about Eric redeeming himself. Having him so close, sitting right next to her on the couch while they watched some horrible comedy on one of the movie channels she had, she was ready to toss everything she said to him earlier right out the window.
God, she was weak. Who knew she was so damn weak? All because of a guy—a guy who was so horrendously wrong for her it wasn’t even funny.
But he was gorgeous. And sweet. He’d been sweet since the moment he slipped inside her car. Oh yes, and sexy. Incredibly sexy and she wanted him with an intensity that was growing harder and harder to ignore.
Especially when he just stretched himself out on her couch and settled his head in her lap like he belonged there.
“I’m tired,” he murmured, closing his eyes.
She glared down at him. The temptation to touch him was strong but she didn’t. Yet. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He cracked his eyes open for a quick moment. “Making myself comfortable?”
“I’ll say,” she muttered and he chuckled.
“Isn’t this what friends do? Hang out together?”
“In each other’s laps?” The incredulity in her voice rang through.
“Yeah, probably not, but I must admit I’m not good at this friendship thing.” His lids lifted again, revealing glittering golden brown eyes. “The friendship thing when I want it to be more than a friendship thing, I should say.”
Sighing, she reached out and drew a straight line across his forehead. “You’re driving me crazy.”
He settled himself more deeply into her lap, almost snuggling against her thighs. Arousal coursed through her, as strong and swift as a river current. “You’re driving
me
crazy.”
“I told you I’m not ready for this.” She sounded a little desperate, a lot freaked out but she didn’t care anymore. This was too much to deal with.
He
was too much to deal with.
“Haven’t you ever done something just to do it, Stace? And not worry about the repercussions?”
“No,” she whispered. She never, ever had.
He reached up, trailed his fingers across her jaw. “You’ve never done something just because you know it’ll feel good?”
“Not really.” She swallowed hard. His fingers on her face felt good. Just hearing him say the words “feel good” made her want him. Made her want to tug her clothes off, tear his clothes off and roll around naked on the floor with him.
When was the last time she had sex? Unfortunately with the trouble between her and Keith’s also came a complete lack of sex. They’d rarely done it the last few months they’d been together.
She was primed. Okay, she could admit it, she was desperately horny and eager for a man’s touch. This man’s touch.
Consequences be damned.
“You should try it sometime.” He closed his eyes. “You might find out you like it.”
Stacy studied him, the sound of the crappy movie growing distant until all she could focus on was his even breathing, the rise and fall of his broad chest. He wore a plain navy blue T-shirt that stretched tight across his firm muscles. Noticed the hem rose away from his jeans, revealing a sliver of skin. Perfectly flat, perfectly delicious skin with a smattering of golden hair right at the center, which most likely ran from below his navel down.
Her mouth went dry at thinking of where that hair ended. What would he do if she slipped her hand beneath his slightly loose waistband and touched him? Probably encourage her to go further, be bolder.
He didn’t hold anything back. And she admired him for that.
Giving in to one of her many urges, she touched him. Let her fingers drift across his hair, testing the silky smooth strands. He sighed, his eyelids fluttering open and he smiled up at her.
“That feels good.”
Yes, yes it did. She did it again, let her fingers thread through his hair, her fingertips press against his scalp and he moaned.
Oh God, she didn’t think she could take this much longer.
Fingers trembling, she let them drift. Down across his forehead, the side of his face. Across his cheek, his nose. He smiled, the slightest curve of lips and she touched them. Just the corner of his mouth first, then she traced his upper lip. His lower lip. They parted and she let the tip of her finger sink in. Felt the gentle swipe of his tongue against it.
A strangled little noise escaped her and his hand came up. Fingers clamped around her wrist and his eyes snapped open. Quick as lightning he moved, scrambled out of her lap so he was on all fours next to her. His face in hers, she felt the warm drift of his breath, noticed the way his lids lowered, his gaze focused directly on her mouth.
As if he was about to kiss her.