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Triple crap. Now I was wet.
The elevator pinged. I darted out, jerked my door open, throwing the keys into a handmade bowl Mama made in pottery class that was supposed to be an Egyptian figure but looked more like a crying monkey, kicking my flip-flops against the wall with a thud. Padding barefoot to the kitchen, I opened my fridge and grabbed the orange juice, taking two big gulps straight from the carton. It wasn’t until I wiped my mouth with my forearm that I realized Dean was in the kitchen with me, pinning me down with the most vivid green eyes I’d seen in my life.
“Rent reevaluation.” He smacked his lips together. “Before you throw another hissy fit, hear me out. There’s a good offer on the table.”
“Just tell me the price. Your offers are sexual harassment suits waiting to happen.”
Dean smirked when his phone buzzed again. Then he looked down and frowned, his nostrils flaring. Ignoring the buzz, he met my eyes again.
“It’s not harassment when you’re obviously game.”
I walked to the sink, washing my hands to buy time, abstaining from answering him.
“It’s time to pack a bag to Todos Santos, Rosie-bug.”
Just hearing the name my daddy nicknamed me on his tongue made me shudder.
“Is it? I’m boarding a plane Saturday evening. That’s what my plane ticket says.”
“Not the one you’re going to use.” He leaned his waist against my sink, his eyes undressing me item by item. The call on his phone died, but another one started, making the screen flash. He ignored it, too. “Make that very early Friday morning, meaning tomorrow.”
“I’m not coming with you.”
He chuckled, shaking his head like I was an adorable, silly puppy. “Wanna bet?”
“Sure.” I shrugged. “Why not? Preferably for money. You’re not short in that department.”
“Or any other, as we’ve already established.” He pushed off the sink, stopping where I could smell but not touch him. Not too close, but close enough for that shiver to roll down my spine.
And it was true that even after all these years, he still had this effect on me. The unsolicited feeling that I wasn’t entirely responsible or in control of what I might say to him. Or do with him. He stood behind me and brushed a lock of hair away from the back of my neck, making my flesh warm and prickly.
He then leaned down and murmured into my ear, “This kind of apartment goes at eight thousand dollars a month on the market. You’re paying me a hundred bucks a month. Do I need to make you fall in line with the rest of New York, Miss LeBlanc?”
There was zero menace in his tone. Dean ‘Ruckus’ Cole was a different kind of asshole to Baron ‘Vicious’ Spencer. He fucked you over with a polite smile on his face. In that sense, he was the Joker. In his mix of confidence, cockiness, good looks, and money, there was a dash of insanity thrown in. Enough to let you know that he meant every word he said.
Living on the edge, so fully, so recklessly, willing to take the fall.
I swallowed, my heart beating so fast I thought it was going to spill all over the floor. Excitement filled my chest, nauseating and addicting. I’d always stayed away from the Dean Coles of the world. I was the Red Riding Hood who took one look at the wolf, said ‘screw it, it’s not worth the pain’, turned around and ran for her life.
Come to think about it, Dean was the very guy who taught me that lesson.
Darren was more my type. Handsome in a shy, reserved way. A med student I’d met when he ordered herbal tea at The Black Hole. Now, I didn’t know what to do with myself with Dean being so close. My hands felt like they’d been artificially glued to my body. Heavy and alien. I knew what would make the feeling stop. Touching him. But that wasn’t an option.
“Pack. A. Fucking. Bag.” His voice was hard, and if I’m not mistaken, it wasn’t the only thing that was hard about him. “If Vicious comes to New York to take you, he’ll give me shit. See, Baby LeBlanc, I like to keep my life simple. Trouble-free.” He twirled another piece of my hair around his finger, glints of lust flashing through his pupils. The light touch sent frissons all the way to my skull and spine, spinning through the rest of my body like electric shock.
What the hell is happening, and why am I letting it happen?
“That means no girlfriends, no fishy business partners, and no un-neighborly neighbors,” he stressed. “You’re a complication right now, and I hate to do this, but if it’s between pissing you off and pissing that motherfucker off, you know my pick.”
“I hate you so much,” I exhaled, and my lungs wheezed, reminding me that my heart needed to slow down. Being so close to Dean felt like that tumble you get in your stomach when you’re on a rollercoaster. He pressed his body to mine, and I sensed his smile on my skin, just below my ear. In that sensual place between your libido and your soul.
