I maintained a serious expression, severe and impassive, until the spontaneous smile that I definitely would not have reciprocated vanished off her face.
I rarely smiled, and when I did, it was for a damn good reason.
“Okay, but you’re forgetting one thing: I’m no gentleman. So quit fucking with me and get out of the way.” I brushed her aside easily with one hand, my strength far superior to her own.
“You can’t run away from me forever,” she said, not for the first time, and I halted. I shot her a fierce look, and her legs faltered slightly, making her sway. She knew how prone to rage I was and how poorly I controlled my temper, so continuing to provoke me wasn’t a smart move on her part.
“You’re the one who should be running from me.” Or else, I would destroy her.
I walked around my car and opened the passenger door. I slid in quickly and clambered over the gearshift to get into the driver’s seat.
I, Neil Miller, was fleeing like the devil was on my tail.
I started the engine and rolled down the window because I needed a smoke.
I felt around in my jacket pockets, pulling out a pack of Winstons and sticking a cigarette between my lips.
I couldn’t stand Megan. I couldn’t stand her presence or that feline gaze that was always, always trying to dig deeper inside me.
I couldn’t stand her at all, and yet I couldn’t stop staring at her.
My eyes were fixed on her through the windshield. She stood, shoulders hunched against the cold.
I should have just left, not bothering about her or the bike, but instead I was inexplicably trapped there in my car. I cupped my hand around thecigarette and lit it. Megan began to walk away, and my eyes slid from her black hair, fluttering in the freezing air, to her high, tight ass that tensed and released with every sway of her hips. She had the kind of well-defined, feminine curves that would have left any man dazed.
Even I, a perfectionist with high standards for women, could appreciate the symmetry of her body. Megan was undoubtedly built to be admired. Among other things.
I let the thick smoke out the window and continued to stare at her.
She’d catch a cab probably, but, in the meantime, she was out there alone, on foot in the cold.
My only consolation was that it wasn’t a particularly dangerous part of town, so she could get out of the situation without my help. I hit the accelerator, the engine making a roar like a lion’s, and her eyes flew to me. She peered at me as I drummed my fingers on the wheel with one hand, the other resting limp on the window.
I wanted her to know that I was leaving and that I wasn’t going to do anything to help her. I reversed sharply and then slammed on the brakes, leaving skid marks on the asphalt.
I needed to leave. Christ, I had to leave and…
“Get in,” I demanded, sticking my face out the window just far enough that Megan could hear me.
She jumped, turning in my direction, and lifted an eyebrow at me, thoroughly pleased with herself. Another side of me had emerged—a more compassionate one—and I had no idea why.
Maybe I just wanted to rid myself of any sense of responsibility for her. She was a woman, after all, and if something had happened to her, I would have felt guilty.
Still, I didn’t look at her as she walked around the car to get into the passenger seat nor when her orange blossom scent began to mingle with my own inside the car. Instead, I stared fixedly at some point in the middle distance, hoping to understand what the fuck I’d just done.
“Thanks, Miller. So I guess you do have a heart after all.” She closed the door and balanced her purse on her thighs.
“I can feel you, you know? Pounding so hard.”It was Babygirl’s voice. TheTinkerbell who had quieted the Boy’s suffering for a brief period of time. It echoed in my mind, reminding me of her sweet, gentle tone. So different from Megan’s more mature, seductive one.
I tried to avoid thinking about Selene because, whenever I did, it stirred up something inside me that I couldn’t understand.
That girl had been the most beautiful accident in all of my fucked-up life. A bolt from the blue that had unleashed not only the sick attraction I felt for her but something else as well. Something I could not name.
She was a creature of the divine, a little fairy who had been able to bring me back to life with a wink of her eye. And now she hated me because I’d been such a bastard to her.
Everything is boring now without you, Babygirl, I thought.
“Damn, this car is sick,” Megan said, snapping me out of my thoughts and bringing me back to the present moment. She had her seat belt on and was examining the illuminated blood-red dash, the controls on the steering wheel, and those for the multimedia settings.
