“I never said I wasn’t. So what?”
“They’re nothing but trouble for the most part.”
My lips twitched. “It depends on what kind of trouble. Some can be more fun than others.”
He scowled. “I’m sure Grady’s told you about our past. I don’t exactly have fond memories of the legal system.”
“Yeah. We all have shit we’ve dealt with. I prefer to leave it in the rearview mirror. Live in the present.” Aware of the heat pouring off him and the scent of his sweat, my heart rate kicked up, and I was seconds away from melting into a puddle of want and need.
He backed away into the recesses of the shop, where I saw two other chairs and a long table on a wooden platform.
“Why are you here?” He positioned himself behind the table, and I leaned a hip against it and ignored his question for one of my own.
“Is this place yours, or do you work for someone?”
I should’ve known that would get his ire up.
“Why?” A brow rose. “You don’t think I can run my business?”
“Damn, you’re defensive.” I ran a hand over the smooth tabletop. “I didn’t say that. I’m thinking you could do whatever you want.”
And whomever. Like me. You could do me in a second.
“Are you interested in getting a tattoo?” That searching gaze scanned me, head to toe, leaving me breathless. “I don’t see any, unless they’re hidden under those clothes.”
My face heated. “I’ve never had one.” I paused. “Yet.” I circled the table, and his expression darkened.
“Is that why you came here? To suss me out about getting ink?”
“No.” I crossed my arms, fixing him with what I hoped was a fierce scowl. “I didn’t like your assumptions. That I’m snobby and rich and a WASP. Which I’m not. I’m Jewish.”
“So what?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean, so what? You made this assumption that because my name is Bailey, I’m a rich, snooty WASP. I’m telling you I’m not.”
He shrugged. “Okay. You’re not. Why does it matter what I thought?”
Damn. Keston should’ve been a lawyer—the way he twisted arguments into knots. “It doesn’t, but I didn’t like your insinuations. You don’t know me at all.”
His lips kicked up in a smile that rendered me speechless. Something that never happened. “I think I do. You come from a nice, middle-class home. Mommy and Daddy love you. You’ve always had a house, and your own room, and you’ve never had to worry where your next meal is coming from or how to pay your bills.”
I didn’t bother to dispute his assumptions because it wouldn’t matter what I said. “And you didn’t have any of that.”
Without answering and with a face filled with fury and pain, Keston strode off and into the room from which he’d first appeared.
Grady had spoken frankly and often about his youth, how he and Keston hadn’t known of each other’s existence and that their mother had put them into foster care. Until they’d become emancipated, neither had led an easy life, but where Grady freely opened up about his experiences, it looked like Keston had no such desire.
I had two choices: either walk away and forget about the sexiest, most intriguing man I’d ever met, or follow him and push his buttons to see what would happen next.
I found him standing in the darkened office, staring into space. He whipped around, his expression a dangerous storm of emotions.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” he asked, but his hands were already reaching for my face, and I melted into his touch.
“Damned if I know,” I murmured. His hot mouth slammed on mine, and I sucked his velvety tongue. I fisted his shirt and rubbed up on him. Our tongues teased and danced, and he bit my lips. Desperate, I shivered with desire. “Oh, God.” I clutched his heavily muscled shoulders and buried my face in his neck, sucking at the rapidly pumping vein. “Fucking hell.”
“Which is it, God or hell?” His wicked smile sent me reeling. “Opposite sides of the spectrum.”
“Are we getting it on or having a philosophy lesson?” I panted. “Who cares?”
