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A smile tugged at one side of my mouth. I reached between us and cupped her chin, forcing her head back and her to meet my gaze.
I searched her eyes.
Anger and confusion were tainted with the honesty of how she was feeling.
With lust.
She could deny it, but she wanted me to kiss her again, just as much as I wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to take her lips with mine right here, right now. Less rough. More softly—more deeply. Really explore her mouth with my tongue and see how far I could take her before she’d ask for more.
The thought made me smile wider.
She’d never ask for more. She’d never give in, no matter how much she’d want to.
She watched me. Almost expectantly, like she was waiting for it. She wasn’t going to fight or push me away. She wanted it just like I did.
But it was a bad idea. One kiss was one kiss too many. I already wanted more than I could have from her.
Nobody told my body that.
Still gripping her chin, I leaned in and brushed my mouth over hers. Her lips parted, and I captured her lower lip between mine. Slowly, I grazed my teeth over her lip, dragging gently until I’d released it.
“Nice try,” I whispered, my open eyes on her closed ones. “Maybe if you weren’t so obvious, you’d have been able to convince me that you don’t want me to kiss you.”
Her eyes snapped open. “I hate you.” She shoved me away and, grabbing her coffee, stormed out of the room into the workshop.
“You know what they say about hating someone,” I called after her, stopping in the doorway.
She looked after her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t cross the fine line into loving you, asshole.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.” I smirked. “I was going to tell you there’s a fine line between hating someone and fucking them.”
“Good thing you’ve got a spare hand, then, because that’s the closest you’re getting to fucking anything with your stunning personality.” She slammed down the lid of a toolbox to punctuate her words. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“And, if you don’t mind,” I reached over to grab a taco. “I’ll eat my lunch and watch you.”
She shot me a dark look. “You owe me twelve bucks.”
“I’ll pay you back.” I smirked again.
Jamie simply glared at me before storming off to work.
God.
She was one hell of a firecracker, and why the fuck was that so hot?
Chapter Sixteen – Jamie
“He does it to piss me off, you know. It’s bullshit. There’s nothing he likes more than riling me up. It’s like some fucked-up fucking foreplay, and there’s nothing I can do, because he seems to have my damn manual. He can push all my buttons in all the right combinations. And my God, I’m trying, but one day, I’m going to flip my shit and he’s going to come face to face with my temper.” I sighed and sat right back. “I mean, what can I do? He kissed me when he didn’t need to, and the worst part of it all is that if he kissed me now, I probably wouldn’t push him away. It’s so messed up. I’m so messed up. I hate his guts, but I can’t stop wanting him, either. What am I supposed to do about this?”
My mom’s cat, Barbie, blinked her liquid-amber eyes at me. “Merow.”
“Yeah. Merow.” I resumed my stroking of her back, and she purred once again. “Why am I even telling you? You’re a cat. This isn’t Disney. You’re not going to suddenly start talking, are you? If only.”
“Are you talking to the cat again?” Dad asked, joining me in the living room.
“Yes. She doesn’t answer back. It’s a nice change from work.” I scratched Barbie under the chin, and her purr got louder. “That’s right,” I cooed. “You just listen and listen, don’t you, Barbs? Good girl. You like that.”
Dad looked at me as if I’d lost it.
I had. I’d lost it. And I didn’t even care. There was no chance it—whatever it was—was coming back until these next two weeks were up.
“Still struggling at the garage?” He sat down on his armchair and picked up his glasses. He perched him on his nose and peered over at me. “Didn’t you go out with him this weekend?”
“I didn’t go out with him.” I stilled my hands. “His grandfather tricked me into attending his great-aunt’s birthday with him, and since you always taught me to respect my elders, I had to go.”
“Merow.” Barbie glared at me, protesting my lack of attention.
“All right, all right.” I, once again, continued pleasing the queen of the household.
Dad side-eyed the cat. He never did like her. “Fine, sure. You were being respectful. If that’s what the kids call it these days.”
