“Yeah, I don’t…care.”
“Maybe you were up for that,” I said, annoyed for no good reason. I had no hold on Dallas Bauer, we were nothing, so why did I want to back over Trent Rossiter with Dallas’s car?
“Come here,” he murmured before his lips met mine, moaning into my mouth.
And since neither Steve nor Trent could miss Dallas all over me, I put Trent right out of my head.
Walking him to the door that led from the garage into the house, I knocked him back against it, pinned him there, and then reached out and hit the button that lowered the electric garage door as I kissed him until I got the whimper I was after.
He tasted like surrender, and when I kissed him again, hard and deep, sucking on his tongue, he fisted his hands in the lapels of my jacket like if he let go, he’d drown. Like I was his lifeline.
Pulling back, he leaned away from me until he broke the kiss, taking a breath.
“I need to grab my bag.” I loved how out of it he looked, my nearness and kisses changing his movements, weighing him down, making him heavy and slow, utterly soaked in desire for me.
Darting back to the car, I grabbed my duffel from the back seat and returned to where he was waiting at the door.
“You won’t regret missing out on Trent, will you?”
“No, I…no,” he murmured, turning and opening the door, the alarm sounding instantly, warning him that he needed to disarm the system.
It took a second, as he squinted at the display before he punched in the code and then turned back to me.
Dropping my bag, I shoved him face-first into the wall, molding my body to his, my mouth to his ear, my chest to his back, my groin to his ass.
“Croy,” he gasped as my breath warmed the side of his neck.
“You tell Steve that until he doesn’t see me anymore, he shouldn’t bring any guys around who think that kissing you might be something they want to do,” I said quickly, speaking before I thought the words through, which wasn’t like me at all. Even as I realized it, I couldn’t stop them from tumbling out. It was like my mouth had no connection to my brain. Apparently, where Dallas was concerned, my lifetime of cultivated thinking-before-speaking was of no consequence at all. My caution deserted me the moment he drew near.
“This morning you ordered Brig Stanton to take his hand off me.”
“Yes, I did,” I admitted, the realization of how I was treating him hitting me hard.
“You’re very possessive; do you know that?”
Shit. “Yes,” I assured him. It was a flaw of mine. As hard as I worked to remain aloof and distant, if I did, in fact, become interested, possessiveness followed too quickly for most people. “I promise I can curtail––”
“Don’t,” he said under his breath, letting his head fall back on my shoulder, giving me his weight, trusting me to hold him. “No one’s ever—just be how you are. I want it.”
The man should have come with a warning label. He was not good for my head, he was screwing with it, and he was equally dangerous for my heart.
My heart…
I’d been interested in others in the past. I liked to delve into mysteries, know what was under the surface, and yes, I got possessive, but only briefly, as it never took long to figure out what they were hiding. I was good at ferreting out secrets, making intuitive leaps, and telling people how to fix their lives. I pretended that my advice wasn’t judgmental, but people weren’t stupid. I gave my opinions without worrying about the consequences, and it never made me popular. Even when others were initially drawn to me, their passion cooled quickly in the face of my judgment. Telling others what to do with their lives wasn’t hot. No one wanted a counselor, or worse, a parent, when they were looking to get laid.
The smart thing to do was untangle myself from the beautiful man whose warm, willing body I wanted to be inside more than I wanted to breathe, and make it clear to him that giving him a blowjob in the car was a mistake, and everything would be professional from here on out. I lived in Chicago. He lived here in the sweet little house with the open floor plan and the kitchen with hardwood floors and stainless-steel appliances. This was ridiculous, and a mistake to take even one step further into his life. And what the hell was with noticing how warm and cozy the house was?
Making sure he was steady, I stepped back, unsure what I should do, not wanting to hurt him and afraid that simply being in his home was going to lead to disaster.