He plants another kiss on my lips before pulling back, reversing down the driveway. “Well if you’dprobablysay yes, I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll call you sometime,” he shouts, winking like the asshole he is.
“You’ll call me?” I shout incredulously. “You've chased me for all this time, and now you’re acting like the cool guy, like youmightcall me sometime?”
I follow him down the driveway as he backs onto the street, waving as he goes. “I’ll call you!”
“Suck it, Charlie-boy” I call out after him, a smile on my lips even though I’m officially annoyed.
I wait until his car disappears around the corner before walking in the house. As soon as my feet hit the front steps, the ringing from my phone echoes from the living room. I slip off my shoes and reach for my phone, seeing Jim’s name across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey Megan, It’s Jim. I hear there’s a showing ofLes Misat the Auditorium this weekend. If you’re free Saturday, I’d love to take you on a date.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“What did you think of the show?”
Jim takes one hand off the steering wheel and brings it over to rest on my thigh. His broad palm is able to cover my entire leg, fingertips inching their way in between them, and I place a hand over his to keep it there.
“It was beautiful. And dinner was wonderful, thank you.” Tonight was unforgettable. It felt like I experienced a real first date for the first time ever. Maybe it’s because I actually enjoyed my food at the expensive restaurant. I didn’t choose a salad when I actually wanted a porterhouse. Jim and I decided on the wine together, and he was the one who suggested we split crème brûlée for dessert. He suggested a walk along the pier before the show, and held my hand through the entire musical.
I reach my free hand over to run it along the back of his head, raking my fingers through his hair like I know he likes. He leans into my touch, and I drop my hand to the back of his neck, squeezing firmly.
“That feels so good,” he murmurs.
The grip on my thigh tightens, and with my hand over his, I move his palm up another inch, causing his fingertips todisappear beneath the hem of my dress. His eyes briefly leave the road to flick to the side, a smoldering expression on his face.
“What are your plans for the rest of the night, Charlie-Boy?”
He curls his fingertips ever so slightly, the tip of them digging into my sensitive flesh. My belly flutters at the sensation, wishing he could pull the car over to the side of the road and have his way with me right here, right now.
“Well, as much as I love that dress, I plan to strip it off you the second we walk in the door.”
I dart my tongue out to lick my dry lips, his eyes watching my every movement. The hand that’s beneath my dress squeezes again, and I move mine to grip his forearm, feeling it flex with each miniscule movement.
“You’re so pretty, Meg. All the time. But tonight, you did it again, you stole the breath from my lungs.”
I look down at my dress, mynewdress— one I specifically went out and bought that was size appropriate. I normally don’t wear floral patterns. Flowers seemed too innocent, too girly for any date I had in the past. But when I pulled this one out of the clothes rack, the blue and white paisley print and sweetheart neckline spoke to me. I tried it on, and looked in the dressing room mirror, expecting to immediately point out all my flaws.
Instead, the reflection looking back at me looked almost foreign. The girl looking back at me in the mirror was happy. Comfortable. Excited. So I bought the dress, a pair of heels to match, curled my hair in loose waves and let them hang down over my back. And when Jim picked me up at my front door today, the flush of his cheeks told me that I made the right choice.
“And once you strip this dress off, whatcha gonna do with me then?”
Jim’s nostrils flare, his hand dipping further up my dress and I feel the pads of his fingers brush against my underwear. Ispread my legs a little wider, inviting him to touch me in any way he wants.
“Whose car is that?”
I had been so focused on teasing Jim, on running my hand over his chest and thigh and dreaming of what tonight will look like that I hadn’t noticed him pull into my driveway.
Right behind a white Mercedes SUV that I had hoped I’d never see again.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” I mutter under my breath, seeing the face of Lucifer sitting on my front stoop. Jim barely has the vehicle in park before I whip my seatbelt off and fling the door open. My feet hit the concrete, heels clacking against the stone as I march over to my front steps.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He doesn’t even stand in greeting. Instead, he steeples his hands under his chin, eyes soaking in my pissed-off expression like it’ll feed him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, baby, I miss you.”
I throw a finger up and point to his face. “Don’t you dare call me your baby, Marcus. Get. The Fuck. Off my lawn.”
