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He should have stayed in his room, because he had known she was there. He had known she would be there watching the snow. He’d sensed her in the house that evening, just as he always did.
He should have just spent the night fucking Chloe, despite the fact that their relationship, as well as his desire for her, was over. He could have done as he had been doing for months and let thoughts of touching Lyrica have their way while he fucked his “flavor of the month,” as she and Kye called his lovers.
Lyrica didn’t say anything more. Linking her fingers in her lap, she stared out the windshield, lips pursed, jaw tight, as the air around her seemed to hum with her anger.
Hell, he’d never seen her so pissed she was speechless.
That was almost scary.
As he drove past the city limits, Graham told him
self that if he’d hurt her, he was sorry, and it was the last thing he’d wanted to do. But he was damned if he knew how to handle what she made him feel. And now was not the time to figure it out.
Pulling into the parking lot of the apartment complex, he parked the Viper in the slot marked with the apartment number she’d given him.
It was a ground-floor patio apartment. A privacy fence separated each side of her small yard from her neighbors’, while leaving the front onto the parking lot clear. Which made little sense to him, he admitted.
“Call Dawg,” he suggested as he put the vehicle in park and turned to look at her. “One of these days someone’s going to get hurt when they have to drag you or Zoey from a party. He’s been lucky so far.”
She rolled her eyes. “Every house owner on the lake knows if we show up to a party to let him know. As long as the parties aren’t getting wild then he lets it go.”
“This one was getting wild?” The thought of Lyrica being amid some of the depraved things that went on at the lake parties had conflicting emotions tearing through him. Fury and lust, just to start with.
“It would have.” She shrugged, unclipping her seat belt. “In another couple of hours the patio would have been empty and couples would have been doing the happy-happy in the shadows.” She waggled her brows suggestively.
“The happy-happy?” he muttered, wondering at the phrasing.
“The happy-happy,” she said, voice lowering, a sensual, hungry rasp to her voice. His entire body tensed in reaction.
His cock, already hard and throbbing in interest, gave a hard jerk, his balls tightening as she turned and gripped the dash and the back of his seat before lifting slowly toward him.
“You know, Graham,” she whispered, green eyes gleaming in need, in helpless hunger, “that feeling you get when you’re burning inside with the pleasure, certain the flames are going to consume you, drag you to a place where ecstasy fills every particle of your mind?” Her lips were a breath from his as he held her gaze, and he let himself sink inside the melting pleasure she described. “Tell me, did you find that place the night of the snowstorm after you left me? Did you use your bimbo to relieve the lust you teased me with?”
He was going to fuck her.
His jaw tensed, lust sweeping over him, consuming him as she knelt in the seat beside him, her upper body braced in front of him.
“Don’t make this mistake, Lyrica,” he warned her, one hand clenching the steering wheel, the other gripping her hip warningly. “Don’t think in your anger that you can make me pay for whatever slight you perceive.”
“Make you pay?” she whispered, the full curves of her breasts rising and falling temptingly. “You make us sound like enemies, Graham. I’ve never been your enemy.”
Releasing her hip, he let his hand move to her thigh, testing the firm muscle beneath, letting himself become immersed in the thought of those lovely legs gripping his hips.
He moved his hand from the steering wheel and reached up, intending to pull her to him, the only action, the only hunger he could make sense of at the moment.
“No, you’re not my enemy, sweetheart,” he agreed. He’d make damned sure of it.
She caught his wrist before he could touch her hair, her head pulling back, the anger he’d sensed in her earlier suddenly flaring in her eyes.
“And I’m not one of your bimbos, your snuggle bunnies, or your damned cheap-ass tramps that tromp naked around your sister as if she wants to see their silicone-filled breasts or nasty-ass bushes. And I’ll make damned sure my brother never sends you after me again.”
He watched her.
Eyes narrowed, his hand returned to the steering wheel as she jerked the door open and moved to leave the car.
“Lyrica.” He said her name softly, the warning in it bringing her to a stop. She turned slowly to stare at him over her shoulder. “If you ever need me, I’m here. But take this to heart, baby—tease me again, and I’m going to fuck you. Every way I know how, and I’m sure I’ll think of a few new positions just for you. But I will fuck you. When it’s over you’ll be hurt, I’ll feel bad as hell for it, and I’ll make an enemy of every Mackay I know. Do us both a favor, a big favor. Stay the hell out of my bed.”
Her lips curled in disgust. “Don’t worry, Graham. I never was into trashy studs or used seconds, no matter how damned good they think they are. No matter how damned different I thought they were.”
