Presley Tibbs—Leighton, not sure who you thought you were with last night, but it wasn’t some vulnerable little girl who needs protecting. I assumed that was pretty clear when I took you to MY bed. Don’t pretend that last night wasn’t exactly what we both wanted. We’ve been flirting with each other for years, and I finally got tired of playing games. As for my brother, he doesn’t and will never have a say in who I invite into my life or body—not his business. But if you’re scared that’s your hang up not mine. So save your apology, and your good intentions, and don’t treat me like I’m a woman who didn’t know what she was doing. Oh, and tell your mother I said hi.
Christ.
I reread the message thread again for the millionth time before shoving the phone back in my pocket.
It was clear she was pissed.
Never should have sent her that text.
What I should’ve done was drive to her house, sacked up, and admit to her face what a complete asshole I’d been. But every time I got in the car, hand ready to hit the ignition, I completely lost my nerve.
God, she was gorgeous.
Five-foot-seven with legs for days, her body was insane in every way that mattered. And those eyes of hers were dangerous. Light brown that darkened on a dime, she could say everything she needed without opening those perfect pink lips. Damn, they’d felt good. Both her eyes on me, as I peeled that tight sparkly dress from her body, and those lips on my throat.
Yeah, not helping.
Instead of reminiscing about how fucking beautiful Presley was, I was supposed to be working shit out. And on top of that agenda was making it right between us.
It wasn’t going to be an easy fix.
When I’d offered to drive her home from work, all it was supposed to be was a ride. And not the kind that happened in my lap. Jesus, she was not only my best friend’s sister but one of the most amazing women I’d ever met. Not to mention she was being terrorized by her shit-for-brains ex-boyfriend, who was going to end up in a ditch somewhere on the Jersey Turnpike if we ever got our hands on him.
Not even going to pretend that I wasn’t totally on board with Tibbs on that. She might be his sister, but no one messed with one of ours. Of course those feelings had only intensified since we’d stupidly slept together.
What had I been thinking?
Clearly, I hadn’t.
All I knew was one minute I was flicking those beautiful brown curls off her shoulder, telling her goodnight, and the next, I had my mouth on hers and my hand touching her in places I shouldn’t.
What’s worse?
I didn’t stop.
Nope, she flashed me a smile, pressed her palm against the rod in my pants and told me to go upstairs with her. And like an idiot who’d clearly lost all his brain cells, I went without a second thought. A complete selfish prick, ignoring the fact I was supposed to be keeping her safe, and instead, I got busy making her come.
And fuck me, did she ever.
“You’re quiet.” Chief’s eyes nailed me from the rearview mirror. “Your afternoon activities wear you out?”
Chief, Tibbs and I were checking out a tip, the three of us looking for the piece of shit Presley used to date
I coughed, wondering if the guilt wasn’t written on my face. I sucked at keeping shit from Tibbs and the chief, so it was a wonder I hadn’t already ’fessed up. “You want to talk about ladies we’re entertaining now, Chief? Because if that’s what we’re doing, then you should probably start.”
Yeah, deflection. Easier than flat-out lying, and would hopefully take off some of the heat.
He flipped me off, obvious that I’d gotten under his skin and launched into a warning about me being respectful. The fucking irony. And while I listened to the man’s words, my head was somewhere else. On the sister of the guy sitting to the right of him.
Fuck.
And while we might have been cruising Queens looking for the shithead who clearly didn’t deserve Presley, my mind was having a hard time focusing on anything other than her.
Chief leveled me with a stare, my lack of concentration not hearing much other than his woman wasn’t a topic of conversation. And if not for the grin Tibbs had on his face, I’d have thought I was in trouble. I laughed, my own smirk making an appearance. “You’re such an easy target, Chief. And you know I’m a saint. Wouldn’t dream of messing with your woman, even as a joke. But, if Hayden continues to inspire the baking, I’d like to formerly request brownies. Double chocolate.”
Chief groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. “I swear you’re worse than preschoolers. How you guys made it through the academy is a mystery.”
“It’s ’cause we’re brilliant, Chief,” Tibbs added from the passenger’s side, his chin tip to me, making me feel like an even bigger asshole. Not sure he’d feel the same way if he’d known where I’d spent my night.
“Not to mention, fearless warriors.” I played along, coughing out the words.
Ironic that I felt anything but.
“And your own biggest fans, too. Let’s keep the appreciation society for later, like much later, when I’m not around,” Chief offered as he shook his head.
With no visual on Presley’s ex, and no idea where the shithead had been hiding, we pulled out of the parking lot of the Cineplex in Flushing we’d been sitting in. Despite one of the boys in 151 having seen Lewis the night before, there’d been no sign of him or his ugly ass
