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Almost is Never Enough

Page 63

by A.M. Myers

Fuck.

This feels so damn good.

I could get lost in this, in him.

But then, he pulls back. Each breath saws in and out of his lungs, his eyes are full of carnal promise as he stares down at me. But he doesn’t come back for me. Instead, he just watches me try to catch my breath and come back to my senses.

“Dalton?” I ask, needing… something.

“Have dinner with me.”

I arch a brow. “Was that a question?”

“Yes,” he answers with a nod. “And no. I want to make demands but the choice is yours, Lennon. I’ll be back around seven, if you want to go to dinner with me, great. If not, it’s all good. No hard feelings.”

I open my mouth to answer him but he shakes his head.

“Don’t give me an answer now.” He leans in and presses one last quick kiss to my lips before he pulls away and takes a step back. “I’ll be back at seven.”

Without another word, he walks out of my apartment and leaves me leaning against my kitchen wall, my hands splayed against the drywall as I struggle to catch my breath and regain my footing.

Oh.

I am in so much trouble.

Chapter Thirteen

Rooster

My stomach flips as I turn down the alley to Lennon’s apartment and my grip on the handlebars tightens until my knuckles turn white. After I dropped off her stuff earlier and we had that kiss in her kitchen, I went back to the clubhouse. I spent two fucking hours just pacing the goddamn halls before Jumper and Gear pissed me off enough that I needed to go hit the bag. And I did that until it was time to get ready to leave. I pull my bike up behind her Jeep and turn it off before grabbing my phone out of my pocket and checking the time.

Fuck.

Six-fifty.

I’m early.

What the actual fuck is wrong with me right now?

My mind flips back to the two times I had Lennon’s lips pressed against mine today and I close my eyes, letting out a groan. Maybe that is what’s wrong with me. Her fucking kiss was so goddamn good that it fried my fucking brain. I drag my hand through my wet hair, remembering the way she felt in my arms, the way she melted into me and the little sounds she made that drove me fucking insane.

The first time she kissed me, I was shocked. I mean, there we were in that rancid fucking apartment and I was pissed. Pissed that she had been living like that. Pissed that a piece of shit like Owen was granted the opportunity to bask in the sunshine of her presence and especially fucking pissed that he took the whole thing for granted. Every goddamn instinct I have was screaming at me to scoop her up and get her out of there.

So I did.

And then, the next thing I know, her lips are on mine.

It was perfect.

She is perfect.

I glance down at my phone. “Fuck.”

Six-fifty-three.

I need a bag to hit again.

Shaking my head, I blow out a breath.