I held on for dear life during the twenty-minute ride over to Oakley’s. It was exciting and exhilarating. I was grateful for the cool wind in my face, which finally woke me up. Usually, it took me almost an hour to make the trip. I was actually early for my shift. This was definitely a much better way to travel.
I smiled in thanks as he helped me to my feet.
“Thank you for the ride.”
“Can I see you later?”
I shook my head swiftly.
“I have to work.”
He stared at me, his brows snapped together over his stormy green eyes. I was pretty sure he wasn’t used to being told no. Not by anyone, let alone a girl.
“You’re working tonight?”
I nodded, rubbing my arms. It wasn’t cold out, but I hadn’t worn a jacket. Tonight when I went home to shower before my shift, I would handle it. I’d dress warmer, I decided.
Maybe I’d even sleep a few hours.
“You’ve got to sleep sometime, girl.”
I stood up straight.
“Molly.”
He ran his knuckles over my cheek, and I shivered, swaying a little on my feet.
“You have to get some sleep, Molly.”
“I’m fine. I should clock in.”
I went to go, and he grabbed me, his hands firm on my shoulders. Then his mouth swooped down on mine. I inhaled sharply at the feeling of his lips. They were shockingly soft but firm. Insistent.
I gasped when I felt his tongue slide along my lips and jumped backward.
He stood there, a slow smile on his face.
“Dear God, I hope you’re legal.”
“What?”
“How old are you, sweetheart?” He held up his hand. “Actually, don’t tell me. Lie. You are eighteen, right?”
I nodded slowly. What was he asking me?
“Are you really eighteen?” He shook his head. “I guess I do have a conscience, after all.”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because if you weren’t, this would be illegal.”
He pounced on me, pressing me against the brick wall. His body pressed into mine. He seemed to mold into every soft part of me until we were one. I was shocked and elated at the same time.
His tongue dove into my mouth. It should have been gross but it wasn’t. It was hot and tingly and fascinating. His tongue stroked mine, exploring my mouth. I felt my head fall back, and his lips were on my throat, sucking and licking and biting. His hands roved over my tee, up and down my back, until they settled on my bottom. He squeezed me and I let out a yelp.
“Please, don’t stop me, sweetheart.”
I pushed against him.
“I have to go.”
He didn’t move. He just leaned against the wall behind me.
“What time do you get off?”
“Seven,” I blurted out.
“Liar. That’s a twelve-hour shift. And the night staff at the home comes on at six thirty.”
I glared at him. He was smart, damn him. I suddenly felt myself go limp.
“Four. I need to go home and sleep for an hour though.”
He nodded.
“Okay. I’ll pick you up.”
I shrugged, the fight gone out of me. I didn’t understand what was happening. A big part of me wanted to curl up against him like a cat and go to sleep.
But I needed this job.
“Do they have coffee in there?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll bring you one.”
“I’m not allowed to have a drink at the register.”
He ran his hands through his hair.
“What about lunch?”
“I usually catch a nap in the stock room.”
“That doesn’t sound safe.”
I shrugged. He was right. It wasn’t. I’d been undetected so far, but the store manager gave me the creeps.
“It’s okay.”
He stared at me, his jaw ticking.
“What time is lunch?”
“Oh, no, you can’t come in the store looking for me. I could lose my job, and I’m already . . .”
“You’re already what?”
“I just have a lot of bills.”
He nodded and looked away, finally stepping back. He watched me straighten my clothes and look around. He was holding himself back from something, but what, exactly, I wasn’t sure.
“Have a good day.”
“I’ll see you at four.”
Chapter Three
Callaway
Two jobs. No sleep. Alone.
This girl was going to kill me. Not just from the geyser ready to blow in my pants. She was going to make me lose my mind worrying about her.
How the hell she was still standing when I drove up to get her at four was beyond me. I’d though about going in there a dozen times and held back. I was already in over my head and all I’d done was kiss her.
But holy hell, what a fucking kiss it was.
She’d felt like an angel in my arms. A buttery-soft, sweet-smelling, supple, soft, and utterly feminine little package. A special fucking delivery, right to my gut.
I’d had a moment of panic when I realized she wasn’t used to being kissed. Not that it made it any less sweet. But I had to wonder if she was of age. A girl who looked like her, well, it was hard to imagine she’d never been kissed.