“You’re even crazier than I thought,” I groan, my voice louder than I intended. “You’re going to get us caught!”
Shit.
My dad’s still in the hallway, talking to Kerrigan.
Dear God, just go into his office already and help a girl out.
But of course, the conversation is starting as a Minnesotan one would, right in the doorway, slowly moving into the room after a conversation or two already passed.
“Does getting caught even scare you at all?” I ask breathlessly.
His lips graze the tip of my nose. “My real identity may be new to you, but the risk of my exposure has always been the same. Unless, of course, you’re going to go out there and tell him right now. Which I know you won’t.”
I glare at him, my heart hammering in my chest. “You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do,” he says confidently. “Or you would’ve already done it.”
“Shut up,” I scold him, pushing at his chest. But he doesn’t budge a millimeter against my force.
His leg slides between mine, and I hate how perfectly it presses against my core.
“You’re right. I’d love to use my mouth in other ways right now. Good idea.”
“Bates.”
Bates’s big hand slides across my jaw, covering my lips as he lowers his head, his warm breath hitting the bridge of my nose. “Shh. Shh. Shh, Little Cupid.” He pauses, hisother hand falling to the bottom hem of my crewneck, slipping under, and wrapping around my side. “Unless you want to get caught. I know public play was one of your fantasies.”
I try to wiggle beneath his grip, but to no avail. I have the same success when I try to part my lips and get a single word out.
“So, you’retryingto be loud? You want them to hear us …” He breathes me in. “My dirty girl.”
Raising my knee, I find his groin, resting it against his weakest spot. His hips jerk from the contact, and I smile against his hand.
“Fine.” He releases my mouth and side, holding his hands up in surrender, and I lower my foot back to the ground. “You have the leash. Right?”
“Yeah.” I wipe the corners of my mouth. “So, be a good boy and get the hell away from me.”
“Mmm. Hard to when you talk to me like that. Makes me think of all the things I can do to earn atreat.” He bites down on the word, his tongue clicking on the end.
“Seriously, Bates, you have to stop doing this shit.” I exhale, feeling overwhelmed by the roller coaster of emotions coursing through me. “It’s too … confusing.”
“Tomorrow,” he states matter-of-factly.
“What?” I feel my face contort with confusion.
“Tomorrow. Come to my house. Talk to me. For real this time. No teasing …” He pauses, correcting himself. “Okay.Minorteasing. We owe it to each other. You can’t tell me you’re ready to truly throw all ofthisaway.”
My throat burns, the words getting stuck in the swellof emotion. I want to tell him he’s wrong, to tell him off. But I can’t because he’s right.
Reaching out, his fingers run down my hairline, jaw, chin, before cradling my cheek. I lean into the touch, letting myself just chase the feeling in my chest for once and ignoring the roaring anxious words in my mind.
“I’ll text you my address and the code.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Bring Freddie. Please. I miss him.”
I don’t nod or shake my head because I’m not sure yet what I’m going to do. I know what my heart wants, and I know what logic wants. Now I just have to decide which path I’m willing to live with–being with Bates or being without him.
Ishouldn’t do this.
I should turn my car around and drive straight home.
