I debate just walking away, I don’t need to tell her. Instead, I look down at my keys, shifting them between my fingers to hear the small chime. Then I do something I never thought I would.
“Want to come with me?”
CHAPTER 27
Bailey
“To seewhoever it is you meet up with for your midnight booty calls? I’ll pass.” I go to shut the door in his face, but he stops it with a strong hand.
“I thought we established there aren’t any booty calls,” he tells me darkly and I can see that comment irritated him. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
I hesitate, looking down at what I’m wearing. My oversized T-shirt and boy shorts aren’t exactly attire to leave the house in.
“Fine, let me change.”
“Nope, no need.” He grabs my hand and pulls me outside.
“Hold on, I at least need my keys.” I try to pry my hand away from his, and he lets go reluctantly.
I grab my keys off the hook by the door, slip on some shoes before joining Wes on my porch again. I almost run upstairs tochange, but for this one moment I’m going to trust him when he says I don’t need to.
It’s cold out tonight, and goosebumps cover my legs during the short walk to Wes’s car. I climb inside, but he doesn’t get in right away. I look around, seeing he’s at the trunk grabbing something. Then my door is open and a thick piece of fabric is thrown onto my lap.
“Wha—” I ask, but he’s shutting the door again. “Jerk,” I mumble under my breath.
He climbs into the driver’s seat and I have to appreciate this giant of a man in this sports car. It’s different when the engine roars to life. Normally the loud sound irritates me, but as I’m sitting in the passenger seat there’s something about it that feels…sensual.
The noise hardly registers, it’s the way the seat vibrates with the power from the engine. I distract myself by looking at what Wes threw on me, and see that it’s one of his hoodies. I drape it over myself to stay warm, but also to hide my legs and the way I’m pressing them together tightly.
He turns the heat on, but it doesn’t kick on right away as he pulls out onto our street. Music starts to play from his phone, and he turns it up so loud we couldn’t hear each other if we tried to have a conversation.
Which is fine by me, I don’t need to have a conversation with him right now. I bring his hoodie up to my chin, and for once in my life, just go along for the ride.
I don’t know where we’re going or how long we’ll be gone, butafter several minutes I roll my head over to look at Wes. He has one arm on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. His focus is purely on the road in front of us, but the hard lines that are normally on his face are softer. He’s focused, but not intensely so.
He’s always so serious, so intimidating when you first look at him, but right now part of that is gone.Helooks softer, more at ease.
It’s weird.
It makes me want to ruffle his feathers a bit. I’m caught between enjoying the peace we’ve found ourselves in for once, and annoying him so he threatens me with more punishments.
The longer we drive, the more the rumble from the engine causes my arousal to increase despite my efforts to tamp it down. I can’t tell if it’s from the vibration of the engine through the seat or the company that’s causing my little problem. I’ve never felt turned on as easily as I am right now.
I haven’t even beentouchedand I feel like this. Add in the fact that Wes and I slept together just yesterday. I’ve always enjoyed sex, it’s a stress reliever, a way to get out of my head, a fun time. But I’ve never needed it likethis. The fact that a car that’s only irritated me up to this point, and the man driving being the cause of my raging hormones has me confused and concerned.
He reaches up to turn the music down. I watch the veins in his hand with the simple action, and have to squeeze my legs together even tighter. It makes me want to slap myself.
“You okay?” he asks gruffly.
“Yeah, why?”
“You just seem off.” He still isn’t looking at me. I narrow my eyes at him, not appreciating the fact that he’s able to read me without even making eye contact.
“Well I was dragged out of my house in the middle of the night to apparently drive to nowhere,” I deadpan.
“Driving nowhere is the best part.”
“Is that really what you do? You don’t go anywhere?”
