She stiffened. “Stupid?” He said nothing, just held her gaze. Like hell. “First, I don’t take orders, from anyone. So if you think I’ll just roll over and do what you tell me, you’re going to be seriously disappointed. And second, my brother was with us. We were fine. I sure as hell don’t need your permission…”
“He had enough on his hands with his own woman, add in you and your sister…” He grunted. “Not sure how he would’ve handled all three of you if I hadn’t showed to take you home.” He stroked her jaw with his thumb, his gaze following the movement. “Don’t go getting all pissed. I’m just looking out for you.”
He kept stroking her face, her neck, the sensation making her shiver. Suddenly staying angry at him seemed too much effort.
“You tell him about me, Rusty?”
“What?”
“Your brother, you told him we’re talking.”
Jesus. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah. He knew who I was and why I was there.” He gave her hip a squeeze. “I liked that.”
She gave his shoulders a light shove. “Arrogant.”
He chuckled. “You love it.”
Dammit, he was right. She did. “Look, thanks for getting me home, and yes, my brother knows about you. I also get that you were worried, but none of that gives you the right to issue orders and expect me to follow them like a good girl. That’s never going to happen.”
His gaze sharpened, that square jaw going hard. “I don’t love the thought of you in a room full of drunks. It’s not me ordering you about. It’s me taking care of what’s mine. End of.”
His? Holy shit. Her heart picked up pace.
He curled his fingers around the side of her neck, thumb brushing just below her ear. “And yeah, I like that you told your brother about me…means you’ve been thinking about me, and not just when I call. So you’re just gonna have to deal with it.” Then he grinned, and it was hot as hell, all straight white teeth and sexy beard. “Gotta say, despite being shit-faced, you were entertaining as hell. Cute, too.”
Her face heated again. “Do not say another word.”
His smile got bigger. “Found out besides stripping, you get chatty when you’ve been drinking.”
She cringed. “What did I—” She cut herself off abruptly as more hazy flashes of memory broke through.
“You remember our chat in the car?” he said, smug as hell.
It all came back, and she covered her face with her hands. “Shoot me now.”
“Fuck no.” He pulled her hands down, holding them both in one of his, and slid a finger under her chin with the other. He tipped her head up so she was looking at him. “Not after you told me what you’ve been doing when you think of me.”
She groaned, and he chuckled darkly, the low sound making her shiver. “Well, at least I’ve finally worked out what the I in R.I.P. stands for…”
“Irresistible?” More goddamn smirking.
She rolled her eyes. “No. Irritating.”
He stared at her for a long time, until that wicked smile slowly disappeared and something else replaced it, something that made her suck in a shaky breath. “I don’t think you get it, Foxy. That you’ve been thinking about me, while you get yourself off? That’s hot as fuck. I’ve been hard ever since you told me. You’re killing me, you know that, right?”
“You’re lucky, then,” she mumbled, lifting her hand to her pounding head. He laughed suddenly, pulling her into him and kissing the top of her head. She scowled against his hard, warm chest, trying to ignore how much she liked being there. “I don’t see how any of this is funny?”
“You’re right. There’s nothing funny about blue balls. But if I don’t laugh, I’ll fucking weep.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive.”
He gave her ass a squeeze. “No thanks to you.” He kissed her hair again. “I gotta go. I wanted to see you later, but I’m thinking you’re gonna need a day. Yeah?”
She nodded against his shirt. “Yeah.”
He leaned back and looked down at her. “You wanna do dinner tomorrow?”
