He shakes his head and offers me half a smile as he leans into my lips for a kiss. It’s harder than the one we shared a moment ago. Hungrier and more desperate. His hands follow suit, wrapping around my waist before inching down over my ass and beneath my pencil skirt with a growl.
I love when he gets like this.
“Come to my place tonight. Park around back. No one has to know you’re there. We can’t make a regular thing out of it ‘cause everyone talks, but one night,” he grips my ass more firmly, “we could probably get away with one night.”
Damn.He’s never talked like this before. In fact, he’s always insisted we meet up at the office or on some back road no one knows about. This would be the first time we’ve ever spent the night together, and maybe even the first time we ever… went all the way.
I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. Usually, I’m the one pushing to do bad things, and he’s the voice of reason.
Clearly, I’ve worn him down effectively, but I’m not sure I should be proud of that.
I’m halfway through a happy, little nod when movement catches in the corner of my eye and I’m drawn to a figure standing in the hallway.
A large figure.
A figure I recognize.
A figure who’s dropped a bag of donuts on the floor, balled his fists, clenched his jaw, and is currently stalking straight toward us.
“Wyatt?” I pause for half a second, trying to make sense of why he’d be here. Then the fear sets in. “Stop! I can explain!” The words come out in a panicked rush of anxiety, and just like that, our kinky little secret isn’t so secret anymore.
Chapter Two
Holden
“You piece of fucking shit.” Wyatt’s fist meets my jaw with a power he usually reserves for assholes who cheat at cards during the Thursday night poker game at Mullet’s bar. It’s a habit he hasn’t been able to quit since he tried giving up the casino. I’m not sure how betting on cards at a local bar is any different, but I don’t ask him many questions anymore.
I haven’t since the shit hit the fan between he and my sister. I get why he hates me, but I know damn well if the tables were reversed, he’d have done the same damn thing.
Blood drips from my bottom lip as he pulls back his fist for round two. Every instinct has me cocking my fist in return, but I hold back. Sure, part of me understands why he’s doing this. I messed up his life, and now I’m sneaking around with his baby sister. That said, a bigger part of me doesn’t want Maya to see what I’m capable of.
“Stop!” Tears roll down her cheeks as she pleads with her brother. “Please, just stop. This is all my fault.”
“No, my baby.” I land my hand on her curved hip and wipe my bloody nose with my sleeve. I’m talking to Maya, though I’m staring toward the heathen in front of me. “This isn’t your fault. Your brother is making his own decisions.”
Wyatt lets out a low chuff as though he’s a bull about to charge. “No, you’re making the decision, Holden. She’s young. She doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing.”
“Guess I could’ve said the same about Alice then, right?”
“You did.” He spits the words and rolls the sleeves of his flannel up, exposing new ink. I don’t know where he’s getting the money to pay for all that. He lost his job at Blackrock after he showed up drunk too many times. Sure, he’s taken odd jobs here and there, but it’s not enough to pay the bills, let alone pay for new ink.
Maya steps between us again, twisting her long red hair to one shoulder before she says, “Wyatt, I smell the alcohol on you. Why are you drinking again?”
He offers a Cheshire grin as he scrubs his hand over his beard. “I stopped by to say good morning and bring donuts for my baby sister, so that means I’m drunk?”
Maya rolls her eyes and steps toward her brother. “How did you get here?”
“I walked,” he nods once, then steps toward me again. “Truck is still parked outside of the bar.”
“So you’ve been drinking since last night?” Maya’s voice lifts a few octaves as she yells, “Oh my God, what’s wrong with you?” She wipes a few tears from her eyes. “I thought you wanted to try and get your old job back? The guys need another hand. They’ve been struggling since you left. I know they’d take you back if you tried to get better.”
“Is that right?” He nods toward me. “What if I don’t want to go back? Also, I ain’t been drinking all night. I slept off last night’s buzz in the truck. That’s all.”
She glances down at his coffee mug. “So, there’s not a shot of whiskey in that cup right now?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
Hell, he says it so straight I almost believe him.
