Page 43 of Cockpit
With my back against the door, I try to figure out how I should feel and what I should do.
I should be mad at him, shouldn’t I? But then I shift my feet and feel the ache between my thighs. For a girl always sure of herself, he just threw me into water that was way over my head and told me I needed to figure out how to swim.
Sure, he just gave me what I wanted—secured my job by saying he’ll be an active participant in the contest—but at what cost?
I should walk out into the bar, say goodbye to Rissa, and head home. Walk away from the moment, calm down, and figure it out later when I’m by myself and can process it all without everything about him clouding my senses.
I take a deep breath and yank the door open with every intention of doing just that.
But when I exit the hallway into the main bar area, he’s across the way, arm slung over another woman’s shoulder, his head thrown back in laughter, and one of the tails of his shirt untucked from where my hands ripped it from his waistband. He may look calm as can be, but I can sense the edge beneath. I still taste it on my tongue.
Go home, Sidney.
I’ve had too much to drink, and I don’t want to do anything stupid. I need to walk my pretty little heels out that door and shake this all off.
It’s then that he looks up and meets my stare. It’s the subtle lift of his chin. The arrogance in his slight smirk.
And my temper lights.
I stalk over to him, the sound of my heels punctuating every step I ta
ke. My pulse pounds in my ears. My anger spins an eddy of discord.
The bar takes notice as people part to make room for me without asking.
With each step closer, his smirk grows smugger.
Bastard.
When I reach him, he unloops his arm from around the woman’s neck and takes a step toward me. The cocksure look on his face slowly falls.
Without a word, I step into him and grab the back of his neck, pulling his face down toward mine.
And then I kiss him.
A no-holds-barred, greedy, take-what-I-want kind of kiss that both dizzies me and lights every part of me with the desire he stoked moments ago.
He’s stunned at first. At least, I think he is, because I’m so busy giving him the revenge kiss to rival all revenge kisses that I don’t even pay attention.
Then his lips are moving.
His tongue is reacting.
His body goes from tense to pliant.
When the outside world seeps through my anger, when the hoots and the hollers break through my thoughts and yank my attention from the devastation of his kiss, I jolt back a step.
A thousand comments race through my mind as I stare at him.
I didn’t manipulate you.
I want you, too.
You don’t get to walk away without a fight.
I say none of them. I stand there with my chest heaving and the crowd staring and begin to feel like a complete idiot.
“Gotta admire a woman who’ll go to extremes to get what she wants.” His voice is a quiet rumble against the noise of the bar, and yet, I hear every single word.
