“Full of yourself, huh?” I shake my head. “No. Aside from thinking you’re a rude asshole who doesn’t deserve a friend like Jesse, I haven’t even thought about you.”
“Liar.”
I open my mouth to argue but the tone of his voice has changed.
“I saw the way you looked at me this morning.”
“Like you’re a piece of crap, glad you got that.”
He smirks full on now, like he’s enjoying himself. He’s giving me whiplash. Suddenly he’s stopped thinking I’m following him? Paranoid much. Jesus.
“Maybe you are here with a friend,” he says, his arm moves off the wall but he reaches out to touch my hair. “Maybe she did choose this bar at random.”
He’s leaning in closer making my heart start to pound. Seriously? He’s getting me hot, and not in a bad tempered kind of way. What the hell is wrong with me?
“And maybe,” he goes on, moving even closer. “You didn’t look at me like you wanted to climb all over me.”
“As if,” I breathe out.
“You’re really bad at hiding your feelings, Cherry. It’s written all over your face.”
“Cherry? That isn’t my name.” Has he got me confused with someone else, is that what this is about?
“Your lips are the color of cherries,” he says, his eyes dipping there again.
My lips squeeze and I swallow hard. My chest is heaving and I’m fighting really hard not to let his voice and his nearness get to me. This man grabbed me and scared the life out of me, accused me of something I haven’t done…
So why is there an ache in my lower stomach, spreading between my legs?
“And ever since I saw you this morning, I’ve wondered if they taste the same.”
He reaches up a hand and runs his thumb over my lower lip, tugging it down slightly. I’m caught in some kind of messed up trap here. I should be doing what I threatened him with. He deserves a knee to the balls at the very least. Or a slap. Or something.
And I really ought to push his hand away as it trails over my chin, neck and lower to my breastbone.
Too low. I reach up to grab his wrist before he can touch me anywhere else even if my nipples are beading and pushing against the fabric of my bra. There are all kinds of things going on in my underwear.
His eyes flare and he stares so deep into me, it’s like he can read every dirty little thought my brain is flashing over.
“Maybe I’ll get to find out some time,” he says, his mouth a few inches from mine.
Not a chance. That is what I mean to say, but nothing comes out. He steps back, and it’s like a puppet string has been cut, I slump back against the wall as he takes a few paces back.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he says then turns and walks away.
A little whimper escapes me and I shake my head. Was that real? Did I really get turned on by a man threatening me? He thinks I’m following him?
Getting my wits about me I go to the bathroom, because despite all of that I really need to pee. When I come back to the bar, Dana is chatting with Raven. My eyes search the whole place but there is no sign of Noah. Dana looks up with a smile, but it falls when she sees my expression.
“Tay, is everything alright?”
“Fine. Did your man show?”
“Um, no. Raven said he isn’t coming.”
“Okay, thanks Raven, it’s been fun meeting you. Can we go?” I look at Dana.
“Is everything alright?” Raven asks. “Did something happen?”
