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Chapter Five
Cohen
When we make it to her place, she’s still asleep, I take a risk and attempt to wake her. She is still half asleep when I carefully help her from the car while looking around to make sure none of her neighbors are watching. I set her down to walk just in case. I’ve made it this far without being caught, and I’m hoping she doesn’t remember any of this.
She stumbles up the walk, tripping over her heels, so I wrap my hand securely around her waist. It takes me three tries before I find the right key. In that time, she manages to straddle one of my legs, and is now quite awake and very cheeky, but still very pissed.
“Your place?” she questions as I fumble with the door.
“Hmmm?” I reply, not following.
“Your place? Is this your place? I know it’s not a hotel…I’m not that drunk,” she hiccups, still drunk enough to not realize it’s her place.
“It’s your place,” I explain as I open the door.
“I can’t—we can’t. Not here,” she mumbles before falling against me again. Scooping her up in my arms, I close the door behind us, setting her bag and keys on an entry table.
“Shhh,” I whisper against her platinum hair, breathing in. She smells sweet, like cotton candy…and spice maybe. Focus!
Pulling my head away, I look around. Her flat is different than I expected. I anticipated sharp angles and ultra-mod, but it’s an odd mix of those with something more…sensual, feminine. A lot like her, I’m guessing. Thankfully, she left on a lamp. It makes it easier to see as I maneuver my way around. Setting her down on a plush linen sofa, I carefully slip her heels off and lay them on the rug. I grab a throw over the back and gently cover her up before searching for the toilet so I can attempt to clean my boots.
I take a chance on the first door to the left and hit pay dirt. I clean myself up the best I can with wet tissues and a spare towel I find next to clawfoot tub. Exiting, there are two other doorways and a staircase. I pause in the hall, contemplating if I should take a look while I’m here, not knowing when I might be back, but I decided against it for now. I’ve probably done more than I should. Not wanting to take any more risks, I head for the door.
As I’m walking through the living room, movement on the couch startles me. Scarlett is sitting up and appears to be wide awake. I’m frozen in place as she stares, unblinking.
She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. Unsure of how to handle the situation, I follow her lead and remain silent.
“I don’t usually bring men back to my place, you know?” Her voice is raspy and seductive, and my dick twitches. I keep staring, my heartrate increasing. She’s seen my face now.
“There must be something special about you,” she continues. I’m not sure where this is going, but quickly figure it out when she stands and starts unbuttoning her blouse
“How did we get here?” she asks, taking another step forward.
“In your car.”
“Where did we meet?” She continues the questioning, not seeming the least bit alarmed to be in a room with a stranger—in her home, no less.
“At a pub,” I answer again with honesty. These are truths I can tell.
“I see.” She makes a little sound in the back of her throat and steps toward me as her shirt falls from her fingertips to the floor. Her perfect breasts are on display, barely contained in a black lace corset style bra.
“Scarlett, that’s not what I am here for.” I try to get a handle on this situation.
“You know my name?” she asks, slightly panicked. Her breathing picks up, causing her chest to strain against the lacey fabric.
“Yes.” I slowly drag my eyes back up to hers. Of all the things, she most concerned I know her name?
“I never tell them my real name,” she confesses, and I put that information away for later.
There’s still a slight slur to her words, and I’m hoping she won’t remember this exchange.
“I was just going—” I point behind me to the door.
“What’s the matter? Decide you don’t want me after all?” she pouts, continuing her seductive dance toward me as I back away toward the door.
“No, that’s not it at all.” She’s like a red flag, dangling in front of me, and I’m the bull…but I can’t give in. Not tonight.
“Am I not desirable?” she asks, reaching behind her. The sound of her zipper sliding down has me groaning. I’m not usually at a loss for words, but this is not how I anticipated things working out.
