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Her breath whooshed out of her lungs. “Oh?”
“Tell me what you’re doing out here, alone, with me.” He trailed his hand down her jawline, his touch as soft as a misty rain on a spring day, and yet as sharp as a razor’s edge, too. “You can’t possibly think going home with me is better than going home alone, just because some prick broke your heart. I’m trying to be a good guy here…”
“I want to go home with you,” she said, laughing. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
His jaw tightened. “You have no idea how dangerous a guy like me can be.”
Her heart picked up speed, but she wasn’t sure what from—the desire his dominant words brought out in her, or the intimidation that he’d managed to hold over her head. He was good. “Why are you dangerous?”
“Why would you think I wasn’t?” His fingers skimmed over her cleavage. Her neckline was chaste and high, so he had to dip his fingers under her shirt to do so. “I went to that bar, looking for a good fuck, like always, and you sat next to me. That makes me opportunistic, but it doesn’t make me a good guy.”
She lifted her chin. “I came looking for the same thing. I sat next to you for a reason.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. She hadn’t, but then she’d seen him. She couldn’t think of a better guy to spend the night with than Holt. “So…there.”
“I don’t believe you. You said your boyfriend of two months broke up with you because you didn’t put out.” He gripped the tip of her chin, latching onto her gaze. “That tells me you don’t jump into bed with just any guy. You don’t even know me. And yet, here we are, and you’re ready to fuck me without a second thought. I’m not usually one to question such things, but with you…I am. I want to know you’re certain.”
“I didn’t sleep with him, no.” Her cheeks heated, and she pressed her thighs together. It was on the tip of her tongue to admit who she was to him, and why that made her more comfortable to take a chance on him, but she didn’t want to risk it. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it with you, though.”
“Why?”
“You make me want to. Okay?” She blew out a frustrated breath. “You make me want you, so I’m going to take you. Is that such a horrible thing? Does there need to be more?”
His grip on her hands flexed, and he slipped his thigh in between hers. His mouth pressed against her pulse, sending her BPM through the roof. “Nope. But, squeezing your hot little legs together won’t make your pussy feel better. You need me for that.”
Her stomach clenched tight. He’d said…he…oh my God, that was hot. She’d known that underneath those glasses was a bad boy who knew exactly what to do with a good girl like her. “Holt.”
“Yeah?” he asked, nibbling on her lower neck.
“Take me home with you.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He pushed off the wall, and she immediately missed his touch. It was electrifying. “Come with me.”
He placed a hand on her lower back and steered her toward the last row of cars. In the middle was a dark grey Toyota Prius. It had Doctor Who stickers all over it, and a TARDIS on the side, too. It was totally the type of car she could picture a guy like Holt driving. She stopped beside it.
Stumbling a bit, he stopped and blinked at her.
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After a moment, he opened his mouth, and closed it. As if he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Did you want to drive to my place separately or something?”
“Um…” What a weird question. Why would she want to drive his car? “No. I didn’t drive here, so I don’t have a car with me.”
“Okay.” He blinked at her again. “Then why are we standing here?”
“Because it’s your car?”
His eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not. Mine’s the red truck at the end.”
“But…oh.” Her cheeks heated. “I’m sorry. I just, uh—”
He pointed at it. “You assumed I drove an environment friendly roller skate with Doctor Who stickers plastered all over it?”
“Y-Yes?”
He snorted. “Not fucking likely. I don’t put stickers on my truck, not even for the Doctor. It damages the paint.”
She latched onto that last part. “But you do like Doctor Who?”
“Of course.” He led her toward the truck at the end. “Do you?”
