Page 65 of To Have and to Stalk
For a second that felt like millennia, he raked his gaze down my body. Staring unashamed, jaw clenched.
Something in the air shifted. The sexual tension in the restaurant about to set fire.
His stare settled on my chest for one…two heartbeats, then he pulled the coat together. Tight.
“Did you drive?” he asked, voice rough.
I blinked. “Why?”
“So I can walk you to your car, Shay.”
His words vibrated like they were rattling a cage.
“I didn’t drive. But—” I broke off. The date was over? Wasn’t he going to fuck me?“Do you…do you not want to have sex?”
I chewed my bottom lip, hating the insecurity heating my skin.
He dragged me by my coat into an alley next to the restaurant and pushed me against the restaurant’s brick wall, his hands still gripping the fabric.
With one hand, he lifted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’re nervous.”
Our breaths collected between us in a hot, steamy fog. The breeze deadened by parallel walls.
Frustration and sexual tension made a tight, achy knot.
Calder slid one hand inside my coat, to my waist. My skin tingled with the weight, nerves bubbling.
“So?” I said, biting the word harder than I’d intended.
Of courseI was nervous.
His blue eyes shimmered, like he was amused by my frustration. That only pissed me off. “Of course I’m nervous—” I broke off when his hand slid up my waist, over my breast. A billion thoughts competed for attention.
A man is touching me. A man who isnotmy fiancé.
Holy shit, am I finally going to sleep with someone else?
I love the way he says my name.
His eyes searched mine, like an archaeologist without the Rosetta stone, relying on bits and pieces to construct the truth.
“So,” he repeated, massaging my breast over the fabric. I bit my lip to keep from groaning, and his eyes dropped to that. “So maybe I’d planned to walk with you a little. Kiss the shit of you. Make your knees weak. Get you out of that fucking head.Beforefucking you.”
He pulled one side of my dress down, my breast spilling over the fabric. He didn’t touch me, though, and he didn’t look down, his gaze stuck on my eyes.
“Should I stop?”
Cold winter wind pricked my bare skin and pebbled the flesh, but I was on fire.
Electric.
Achy.
I glanced out the alley, where occasionally someone would walk across the gap between buildings.
“Anyone could see,” I said, but it came out breathy.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “they could. This is what happens when you’re fucking impatient.”
