The Real Baxter (The Baxter Chronicles 1) - Page 23

“No, I’m done. I can throw it away in the house. I don’t want to leave trash in your car.”

I scoffed. “Dude, have you seen my car?”

Seb chuckled…and I joined in.

When his laughter faded, we were back to staring at each other. Only now, it wasn’t awkward. It was…something completely different. A little unsteady and unsure, but somehow promising.

I didn’t move. I didn’t sidle past him with an absent good-bye or a bro high five. I didn’t try to draw him into more conversation. I didn’t want to break the spell…as if I had any power over what was happening.

And something was definitely happening. Maybe because it was so unexpected, it took me a few extra seconds to define it.

Lust. Hunger. Need.

He wanted me. I could see desire plain as day in his heavy-lidded stare.

I set the cup on the hood of my car, then rubbed the back of my neck. “If you change your mind…”

Seb’s smile faltered. “I don’t usually change my mind.”

“About milkshakes?”

“Or anything.”

Silence.

But it wasn’t the quiet kind of silence. My heart banged against my rib cage, sending a rush of blood to my head. I could practically hear an electric current crackle and sizzle between us and cut through the night, sending a tingle along my spine. No joke…I had real live goose bumps. And from what? Staring at a sexy silver fox who looked like he wanted to eat me for dinner.

My cock swelled behind my zipper at the thought. It didn’t sound so bad at all.

Fuck, his tongue was distracting. I swallowed hard, shivering with the effort to keep my cool and not pounce. “I, um…I should go.”

“You don’t have to,” he whispered. “You could stay.”

“Stay,” I repeated huskily.

I didn’t like having to be so careful, but Seb wasn’t any ordinary guy. I couldn’t afford to misread him. But stalling wasn’t working for me.

Something had to give.

I lifted my right hand and trailed my thumb along his jawline, gauging his reaction. He swayed toward me, then stopped. That crackly, buzzing sound hissed louder than ever. It was a heartbeat, a drumbeat, a seductive hum. The seconds passed like a ticking time bomb.

Five, four, three, two—

We leaned in at the same time and—bam!

We crashed into each other in a hungry tongue tangle, licking, sucking, and nipping in a frenzy.

I hadn’t gone from zero to a hundred since I was sixteen and Jenny Travers put her hand on my crotch in the middle of an epic make-out session. But Seb and I weren’t teenagers or friends. We were acquaintances at best. I didn’t know what we were doing, but I liked it.

I slipped my hand to his nape, angling my chin just as he stepped out of my reach. And—poof! An invisible mask fell into place. The hunger was still there, but it was controlled. Restrained.

“Yes. Stay…if you want.” He added that last line impassively as if my presence really didn’t matter to him one way or another.

It mattered, though. It mattered a lot.

Life’s most crucial decisions teetered between right and wrong, want and need, mixed and measured in countless shades of gray. The more you had to lose, the harder it was to choose. For me, it was simple.…I wanted him. But he needed me.

Okay, maybe not me specifically, but he needed something and I was available. That careless “if you want” was simply a gentle reminder that he’d forget me in the morning. And was I okay with that?

If you hadn’t noticed, my bar was already pretty damn low. Seb couldn’t hurt my feelings if he tried. I hoped for the best but always expected the worst ’cause in general, people sucked and Hollywood types were a breed apart. Trusting anyone in this town was a big fucking mistake. I knew the score all too well.

So, did I want him?

I closed the car door decisively.

Fuck, yes, I did.

4

SEB

The lantern under the side entry provided just enough light that I didn’t have to pull out my readers to disarm the house alarm or send a quick text to the security guard on duty. There was a decent chance that when Jerry spotted the rusty Impala in the driveway, he’d immediately call the police to run Trent’s license plates. I didn’t think Trent had a record, but even a minor offense might be deemed a justifiable cause for a rescue.

I didn’t want to be rescued tonight. I wanted exactly the opposite, which made Trent the perfect candidate.

Look, he seemed like a nice guy. He was smart and engaging, but he was no white knight. Trent was a shameless opportunist…which I completely respected. No risk, no reward. My success was built on that tried-and-true adage. And yeah, I admit I tended to go overboard.

I had a history of pushing my own limits without regard to consequence for myself…or others. When I was younger, that hadn’t always panned out. But over the years, I’d honed my skills at practiced sincerity into a fucking art form.

Tags: Lane Hayes The Baxter Chronicles Romance
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