“Seriously, lovers, get a room.”
That’s definitely her. I’ll kill her.
With an irritated grunt, Grant loosens his hold on my butt. I slowly drop to the floor, joints out of order, bones rubberized.
“This is gonna be so fun to watch on Monday morning.”
Gasping for air, I stare up at Grant. Who is this flushed, hazy-eyed man? Serious Grant is nowhere to be seen. I like this version. The one who watches me, fierce and lost at the same time, and then presses his forehead to mine to whisper, “You okay?” too quietly for them to hear.
My nod rubs our skin together.
He stares down at my mouth like it’s done him dirty, then back up to my eyes, and he doesn’t have to say what he’s thinking because I feel it clenching deep, deep inside.
Finally, squinting against the light, I catch a glimpse of Sam and Daff over Grant’s shoulder. They’re watching us with unabashed curiosity. Sam’s got her arms folded. Daff’s chin’s cradled in her hands, elbows on the check-in desk. They’re wearing twin smirks.
I glance up at Grant as he finally eases back, looking like he’s been sucker punched.I know exactly how you feel, bud.
“Fuck.” His eyes clear, and his jaw hardens. A second later, he swipes my feet out from under me when he says, “This didn’t happen.”
“What?”
“You. Me. That… that…kiss.” He imbues the word with so much venom he might as well have slapped me across the face. “Never. Happened.”
But here’s the thing, right? I may look like an oversized Kewpie doll, but I’m no one’s pushover. This man can pretend whatever he wants. I am not playing.
“Oh, it happened, Mister,” I tell him, forcing my words out as clearly and concisely as I can manage after the once-in-a-lifetime workout my libido just endured. “You lost control.”
“Is Mister his kink name?” Sam asks.
We both turn and spit out simultaneousnos before returning our attention to each other.
“I didn’t lose control.”
“No? What about the rules, then?”
“Youbroke them.”
“Oh, so that’s your excuse? Victim-blaming, now?”
“You have rules?” Sam lowers her voice. “They haverules?”
“Of course we do,” he says, in the same tone my asshole uncle Bert might use to argue in favor of trickle-down economics.
“It’s ridiculous,” I snap, my voice overlapping his.
“Y’all are giving enemies-to-lovers so hard right now,” says Sam.
“Right?” replies Daff.
“Are they doing a kink scene?”
“Hmmmm. Maybe.”
Neither of us even glances at them. We can’t, given how intently we’re staring at each other. There’s a litany running over and over inside me, saying,Do all the things. Kiss me. Make me. Rub and push and pull and tell me how good it feels. Make it hurt, and then make it feel better, and then—
With a muttered “I’m losing it,” Grant turns, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve got to get outta here, Rae. I can’t think when you’re around.” He literally snarls, “Please just go.”
I’m vibrating with the aftershock of that request when someone yells “It’s the General!” from the steps, immediately followed by the swarm of a big group clogging up the space, and there are way too many people for how raw I feel. We get separated. I twist around, and Grant’s glaring at whoever called his name like he wants to punch them for interrupting, which I’d almost laugh at except I wanted to keep doing what we were doing, and apparently, he can’t wait for me toleave? Because it neverhappened? Hurt whooshes up to clog my chest, my throat, my sinuses.
