The girl is gorgeous.
I’ll give her that.
Anyone can see her looks.
And be terrified of her fire.
But I’m attracted to that more.
Lights her up from the inside.
Wouldn’t mind seeing if I could surpass this heat.
Turn it higher.
I like a smart, strong woman.
They don’t scare me. They keep me on my toes. Challenge me. Keep me interested. But I’m waiting to see if she’s like Penny.
My high school sweetheart seemed just that when we were little kids — sweet. And super smart.
But as her popularity grew over the years she fed off it like a tick, ego growing as she sucked the life out of everyone who loved her. Even me.
She’d say nice things but I’ve never met a more manipulative person before or since. Underlying everything was the message: Give me more attention or I’ll make you pay! If you loved me you’d…
If I loved you I’d be stupid.
And I did love her — my first love, a child’s love and a kid’s belief that Penny was just going through a phase.
One that lasted five years and is probably still going.
Sad day when I woke up and found myself swimming in a river called Denial.
“Where are we going, Lexi?”
She glances back and up at me, since she’s leading the way something fierce. A flicker of surprise that I know her name since she didn’t return the favor, but her memory clicks in. “Oh! You heard them call me that.”
“I did.”
“We’re going to your place.”
I chuckle, “Oh we are, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Fine by me.”
Lexi digs keys from her front pocket — three jingling on a small ring with a tiny pale-pink stone hanging from a three-link chain.
I dig out my own — one large ring, eleven keys, no adornment — release her hand to point at my blood-red Ford Bronco parked on a slant thanks to this parking lot being wonky. Top off. Windows down.
“No way, Cherry, you may have driven this train from the station, but I’ll drive the truck that carries us home.”
She stops walking, fists landing on her hips. “Cherry?”
“That’s right.”
She considers it, scrunching her face in the decision, drops her hands and smirks, “I like it.” Looking at my truck, her head tilts. “That Ford is yours?”
“Yep.”
“You didn’t park in an official spot.”
“Nope.”
She locks eyes with me, fire shining. “I like that, too.”
We walk up and I open the door for her, leaning on it. “Hop in.”
But she doesn’t. Instead, her gaze travels down and back up my body like she’s surveying the goods. I’m holding back a smile, amused as fuck.
“Like what you see?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Me too.”
She nibbles her bottom lip — totally subconscious but a huge turn on — spins around and takes a slow stroll around my prized possession.
All the way around.
Twice.
“This is a classic.”
Each time she passes me with hips naturally swaying in those tight jeans — no effort, just fuckin’ hot.
“It’s a 1976.”
Her hand slides down the length of one of the bars, admiring how smooth it is. “You have this restored, or did you buy it like this?”
“Neither.”
Lexi wraps her hands around my driver’s door since the window is down. “What d’ya mean, neither?”
“I mean, I didn’t have this restored and, when I bought it, it was a rusty hunk of junk.”
“You restored this yourself?”
“Wicked and smart.”
She laughs, running her index finger lightly across the hood on her way back to me. “I wouldn’t say my figuring that out indicates intelligence.”
We’re staring at each other.
Standing together.
Less than a foot apart.
Sizing up what’s going on.
What’s to come.
Who’s to cum.
If that’s even a good idea.
She didn’t think this through.
I know that for sure.
But I’m enjoying myself.
I’ll wait to see how it plays.
“I might not get in the truck.”
“Your choice, Cherry.”
Naked lips tug up, creating a little dimple in one cheek I hadn’t noticed until now. Looks like she’s only got the one. “I’m thirsty, Gage.”
“You like my name?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t want me to go back to Ira?”
She grins, “No.”
“Wanna go back inside?”
She blanches, “No way,” face softening as she looks at me. “But I am thirsty. You see…my beer went to someone else.”
“I appreciated it more than he did.”
A grin flashes, filled with vengeance. “Me too.”
My gaze drops to her lips.
Hers drops to mine.
I hook my arm around her.
Draw her close.
“You holding your breath?”
“No,” she lies, suddenly inhaling.
“Yeah, you were. Listen Cherry, if we’re gonna do this one-night-thing to get you over that guy, you’ve had enough lies. And I don’t find them interesting. Life’s too short for ‘em. I like to know where I am.”
She searches me, unsure if she should tell me to fuck off or kiss me.
I solve her problem, claiming her mouth in a kiss that’s slow.
Deep.
Mutual.
Pressing her yielding body into my taut muscles, arms holding her tight, cock rising to the occasion, we lose ourselves.
No more parking lot.
No more Local.
No more questions.
Just this kiss.
“Lexi?”
We break free, look over at the approaching uniformed police officer whose frowning hard.
She sighs, “Oh shit. Let’s go!” and runs around me, jumps in my Bronco.
He grins, “Oh no you don’t,” still not in a hurry though. One of his hands is on his gun belt, other one waving the universal stop-gesture.
Despite that gun, I stroll around the back and hop in. “Another boyfriend?”
“Cousin.”
“Got it.” I hit the engine.
Lexi stands up, holding onto the black frame of my windshield, ass eye-level to me and I sure don’t mind.
“Wyatt, I told your brother, I’m not your sister so don’t pull this shit. I’ve already got three brothers who want to cage us!”
Wyatt’s his name, huh?
It sticks in my head for some reason. Same with Nate, Sam and Zoe. They’re like a song on repeat as I cock an eyebrow at him to see if he’ll give me room to leave with her, or continue to blockade our exit.
Wyatt chuckles, shaking his head, “This is Brad, isn’t it. I finally get to see Brad in the flesh.”
