Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 7640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
“Everything okay?” she asks, tentatively.
I stand there, mentally planting my feet in the ground when they want to move toward her, aware of her in ways that are not safe for her or me. The curve of her breasts against her fitted bodice. The curve of her hips in the slender cut of the dress.
“It was my mother,” I say. “She called off the memorial. She’s going to Europe with another man. I think she’s looking for an escape.”
Her lips part and then press together before she says, “Yes. I can see how an escape might feel necessary.”
Despite logic and good sense, I step toward her, and as I draw nearer, she doesn’t back away.
Chapter Three
Tyler
I halt close to her, near enough that I could reach out and touch her. The jasmine scent of perfume flares in my nostrils and mixes with the earthy scent of nature and rain. The results are sultry, and erotic, stirring a heaviness in my body that as logic serves is trouble, is dangerous, but I’m not feeling logical at all. My cock, now pressing uncomfortably against my zipper, is not one little bit logical.
“Yes,” I say softly, my gaze tracing the plump fullness of her bottom lip. I crave a taste of her, just one taste. Just one lick. But I’m not foolish enough to believe it would be one and done. I’d want more. I’d take more, everything she’d let me take. And I’d kiss far more than her mouth. I also know we’d be changed forever, and I’d be repeating a mistake that left more than one person dead. Still, I don’t move away, I simply add, “I do believe I can understand an escape could be necessary, too.”
I’m no longer talking about my mother’s jaunt across the country with a client. I’m talking about me and Bella right now.
And when her chin lifts and her eyes collide with mine, there is an undeniable punch between us, the air thick with lust. She lifts her hand as if she means to touch me, but pauses mid-air, seems to reconsider, and allows her arm to lower. “I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with that.”
And yet, right here and now, escape, at least the kind I crave, is a problem. It is wrong. “Bella,” I say softly, and it is both a call to her to come to me and a plea for her to walk away.
She never gets the chance. My cellphone rings again. I grimace and reach for it, only to find Dash Black on the caller ID. “It’s your brother,” I say.
Her chest lifts with a heavy breath, her eyes meeting mine again, and the discomfort of the moment is palpable. She laughs a choked laugh. “Of course, it is. I’m not here,” she says softly. “Okay?”
Because Dash wouldn’t approve, now more than ever, I suspect. I know it. The fact that she knows it says to me they’ve had conversations about me. I know this, too, but I still don’t like it. “As you wish, Bella,” I reply, my voice soft, but there’s nothing about anything I feel right now that is as gentle as my words.
I answer the call. “Dash,” I greet tightly.
“Are you going to the memorial?” he asks, and I don’t doubt his concern. He might not want me fucking around with his sister, but we do have a friendship I wouldn’t call it tenuous as much as I would strained.
“My mother called it off.”
He expels a sigh that reads like relief. “I can’t believe she thought that was a good idea. You need company? I can head over.”
Bella’s eyes collide with mine, panic in their depths, an indicator to me that she can hear the conversation. “I’m better off alone tonight,” I say tightly. “I know you get that. I know you know why that feels necessary.”
I’m selling the moment to Dash, ensuring he stays away, but the words seem to punch at Bella, and she physically steps backward. She’s read a message into the words only meant to drive Dash away. She rotates and disappears inside my apartment and I find the idea of her leaving stirs an odd mix of resistance and relief in me. Her brother has now soundly inserted himself between us and he doesn’t even know. He should be the one feeling relief, not me. He has the joy of sweet ignorance while I do not.
I’m ready to pursue Bella when Dash says, “You sure about that?”
I turn away from the apartment and face the city night. “I have my ways of coping, just like you do.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says.
“I’m not a drunk, Dash,” I bite out. “I’m an opportunist and often booze is easier to deal with than human beings.”
“And I’m not a fight junkie. Come on, man. We both know you tip that bottle too easily. If you don’t want to see me tonight, call one of your many women. Better to bury yourself in one of them, than a bottle.”