Page 134 of Hot Mess
Danica
Maybe five minutes later—time kind of loses meaning in the wake of an orgasm like that—Ashley and I were standing near the front door of the club, calmly discussing our options.
He seemed to think that taking me back to his place so we could “fuck the living shit out of each other” (his exact words) was the best option on the table.
While I kept insisting that I simply couldn’t do that—because it was ladies night. No matter that he’d just rocked my world in that corner booth, I’d come here with my sister. I wasn’t going to ditch her at a bar.
That was my excuse.
Plus, he was still my client and I was still clinging, desperately, to my integrity.
I was also drunk and unsure of what, exactly, I was doing.
I was also more than a little freaked out thatI’d just come on his hand in a bar.
This man was magical-irresistible, and I needed out of his dazzling unicorn aura so I could think straight and regain control of my drunken hormones.
After debating it for what felt like a really long time, he finally gave up.
He wanted to leave. I wanted to stay.
Deadlock.
“All I’m saying is I don’t think I can spend another minute with you right now if you’re not gonna touch my dick.” He said that to me, in his crazy-forward way, looking kind of… pained. All dark and hot and immovable, as he stood in front of me with his hands crammed into the pockets of his jeans, probably to hide his hard-on from everyone around us.
“And I would love to do that,” I told him, “but I can’t. I’m sorry if I got carried away. I, um, didn’t expect you to put your hand up my dress.”
Despite the obvious frustration in his eyes, he smirked at me. “I didn’t either. Until I saw you in it.” Then his eyes burned down on my body again, and I squirmed.
I really needed to back away, or I was seriously gonna ride him home.
Then he looked in my eyes. “I just think we could try,” he said, kind of awkwardly. He seemed frazzled, actually, like he didn’t quite know what to do with a woman who came on his hand and then told him no.
“I’m still not sure,” I said. “You’re my client…”
“I won’t be your client much longer. When you’re done with my place, it won’t matter.”
“I know…” I said, stalling. But then, because he was so fucking beautiful and his blue eyes were demanding it of me, I caved and admitted the rest of it. “I’m still not sure how I feel about you and my sister.”
He stared at me for a moment. Then he said, “There is no me and your sister.”
“But therewas,” I said.
“Yeah, for maybe three hours, four years ago. I was so drunk when I met her, I couldn’t even tell the difference between the two of you when I metyou. But there is a difference. A big fucking difference.”
Well, I liked that. But still.
I looked him over. He was so sexy… And sotense.
“Are you gonna go pick up someone else?” I blurted out. Totally not the coolest thing to ask, when I was essentially rejecting him. Without meaning to.
But I asked anyway.
He shook his head at me a little. Then he gripped my chin gently with his thumb and forefinger and kissed me… a kiss that was so soft and so heated, my toes curled and my knees just about gave out. I put my hand on his chest to steady myself.
“No,” he said. “I like you, Danica.”
I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything at all. I was afraid of saying too much.
