He brought something out in me. Something that wanted to grasp on to the world and take it, not let it rule me. Not be afraid. Not cower. Not wait.
I was tired of cowering and I was tired of waiting.
I kissed him with everything I felt. All the hurt and anger of my life up until this point, I unleashed on to him. A relative stranger. A man I met in a bar. A man that in the short time I knew him, made me feel more seen and safer than any other man I’d ever encountered.
“Jack,” I breathed his name and bit his bottom lip a little when I went back in for another searing kiss. My grip on him tightened.
“That’s it,” he said against my mouth. “Not so shy right now, are you?”
His teeth grazed my lips. When had I started clawing at him?
His hips were grinding against me, but he leaned back enough to look me in the eyes. Our noses touching while we breathed for each other. Still cupping my face, he ran his thumb along my lips which felt swollen and tingly.
“Give me a number.”
On heavy exhales, I said, “Eight.”
“Hot or cold?”
“Very hot,” I whispered.
“Good.”
He let my leg drop and I stood on two feet once more, trembling a little from the intensity of what just happened.
Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, he backed away. His dark eyes were wild, like lightning behind midnight skies.
“I hated what I saw on your face tonight. The look of fear. I don’t know what exactly is going on, but you should never feel that way.”
I took a deep breath and admitted one thing I hadn’t said out loud ever. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he looked like he was about ready to say something. He reached out and…
Opened the door behind me.
The summer breeze met my skin, and beyond the large porch and down the steps, was Harper parked on the curb, waiting in her car.
I walked out, then turned to look at Jack. “So much happened tonight. I don’t know what to do or what to say.” I was also certain that if what just happened was an eight, I may not be able to handle a ten. Yet, I desperately wanted to find out. “Do I give you my number?”
“You can.”
I looked him over in confusion. “Do you have a pen?”
“No. You can just tell it to me. I’ll remember.”
He grinned and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing away the mess I had made of it. The action caused his shirt to pull tight over his torso, giving sight to a hard chest and rippling abs that made my mouth water again.
I rattled off my cell number and he nodded.
“I look forward to seeing you again,” he said.
It didn’t sound like a threat or a promise, but a threat and a promise. With the scent of pine on the breeze, I crossed my arms and walked away. Already missing the heat.
Chapter Three
“What are you doing here, Lana?” my father asked, opening the door to his million dollar, eco-friendly home with surprise on his face. Though it was in the same city as Jack’s house, everything about my father’s place had clean lines, no color, and felt sterile.
Since my encounter with Jack last night, I hadn’t been able to sleep. But the more I thought about Brock, about his new “promotion,” the more I needed clarification.