“Yo, Law. Watch the booth.” He didn’t give the guy a chance to answer and took off after her. He had no idea what her problem was, but he did know she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. You couldn’t fake the response she’d given him, the way she’d rubbed that hot body against his, those sweet little moans when he’d kissed her deep.
But what had tormented him since, had kept him awake nights trying to figure her out, dick hard as goddamned steel? The almost hesitant way she’d kissed him back. The tentative way she’d touched him at first. The surprised gasps that broke past her full lips when he’d claimed her mouth.
She had been all need and hunger, no finesse, and it had been the hottest kiss he’d ever had in his life. There’d been an innocence in the way she’d returned his kiss, something he hadn’t expected, had never in his life gone looking for, but wanted a whole lot more of. There was a hell of a lot more beneath the pretty package, and he wanted to unwrap every damn layer and discover all her secrets one by one, lay her bare till she gave him everything.
She had him in knots, and until he got her into his bed, got those long legs wrapped around his waist, and had worked her out of his system, he didn’t see that changing.
He looked out across the crowd. “Shit.” He’d lost sight of her. He needed to talk to her, get whatever was worrying her sorted so they could move forward. He wanted her, and he wanted West Restoration. Neither of those things could happen if she wouldn’t speak to him.
He rounded an alcove that led down a short hall to the bathrooms and a small break room for the organizers and booth holders. He immediately heard her voice coming from inside.
“Back up, asshole.” He could hear fear in her voice, making it shake.
Anger hit him hard, sent adrenaline flooding his veins as he rounded the corner. A guy stood in front of her, refusing to let her pass.
“Come on, babe. I just want your number.”
“And I told you to get lost.” She tried to move past, but he grabbed her arm. That was also when she spotted Reid, and he didn’t miss the relief that flashed across her eyes when she did.
“Back up on your own, or I’ll help you out, but either way you’ve got exactly five seconds to get your hands off her and get the hell gone.” The guy spun around, took a second to size him up, and made the wise decision to leave on his own.
Rusty crossed her arms and stared up at him, eyes wide. Then he watched the attitude slide into place, the wall come up. “I could have handled that myself.”
“Not from where I was standing.”
She uncrossed her arms and planted them on her hips. “Whatever.”
“Whatever?” Jesus.
“Like I said…”
“Woman, you are so full of it, it’s not even funny.”
She pressed those soft, full lips together and glanced away for a few seconds. When she turned back she looked like she was sucking a lemon. And shit, even sucking a lemon the woman was gorgeous.
Her green eyes locked on his. “Fine.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “Thanks…you know, for your help.”
“Any time, Foxy. But you don’t need to thank me, not for that. That asshole was way out of line.” Her eyes flared and her mouth got tight again. Screw that. “What now? What’s got you pissed off this time?”
“Nothing,” she answered too damn fast.
Then a light switched on, a goddamn spotlight on high-beam. He’d gotten a similar reaction when she’d stormed out of his workshop, after he’d kissed her, after he’d told her how gorgeous she was.
After catching her with that asshole in here, it wasn’t hard to work out she dealt with that type of thing a lot because of her looks, but still, she had to know he wasn’t like that creep?
No, you’re worse.
He shook off the voice in his head, because it was true, he was worse, but what made him even more of an asshole? He didn’t care. He wanted something, he went after it. He’d never gotten a damn thing sitting around waiting for it. He’d learned to go after what he wanted, no matter the cost, when he was just a kid.
Fear was a strong motivator, and he’d had it in spades growing up. Fear that one day he’d end up just like his old man. Fear that if he didn’t work his ass off, get his mother out of the shit-hole they’d called home, he’d eventually walk in and find her dead at the bastard’s hands.
So yeah, he’d had motivation to make something of himself, to ruthlessly go after what he wanted. He had no hope of stopping now, because that fear, it was still there, driving him forward, keeping him hungry for the next thing. Without that hunger—if he slowed down, if he stopped—he knew that darkness twisting deep down inside him would finally break free.
And that, he would never allow.
“Foxy, you gotta know I’m not that guy.” She shook her head, not looking convinced in the slightest. “Are you afraid of me for some reason?”
Her brow furrowed. “Of course not.”
