He just tips his hat at her and moves out of the way.
“Bye, Maurice.” Dove waves her hand and struts away.
“I guess it’s time to go,” I remark to Maurice.
“Watch that one. She bites,” he warns.
“I’m well aware.”
That is about all the interaction Maurice and I need. The less we see of each other, the better.
I hurry after Dove, who is surprisingly fast in her drunken state. She is singing at the top of her lungs to “The Joker” by The Steve Miller Band, garnering way too much of the wrong attention. One guy with a pool stick joins in singing with her, belting out a high note, really feeling her carefree vibe. Feeling it a little too much 'cause when they cut the note, he smacks her on the ass.
Shit, no, dude. I can’t run fast enough. Dove rears back and punches the guy dead in the face. Blood explodes from his nose, and suddenly there is an onslaught of tattooed, muscled, leather-clad men rushing Dove. Without even stopping, I lock an arm around her waist and make for the door with her kicking and screaming the whole way. “You want to put your fucking hands on me!”
Like the building is burning, I cross the parking lot in seconds and shove Dove into my truck. She laughs in hysterics while an angry mob of bikers throws handfuls of dirt at us. I throw it in drive and peel away with the pelting of pebbles echoing off the side of my pickup.
“You’re crazy,” I expel once we are safely out of harm’s way.
“Sometimes.” Dove clicks on the radio and turns the volume all the way up. She sings along to Jason Derulo’s “Savage Love” like no one is listening. It’s quite entertaining.
When she leans in close to me and rasps in my ear, I swerve.
“Easy there,Guapo. We want to make it home in one piece.” Dove runs her nose up my neck, and I break out into goosebumps. What the hell is she doing?
“You feeling okay,Tiburona?”
“I feel the very worst and the very best.” She sinks into the seat, her eyes fluttering, and her limbs loose. “Where are we going,Guapo?”
“I’m taking you home and putting you to bed.”
Her head snaps in my direction, and a shit-eating grin colors her face. “I won’t say no. Not this time.”
I pause, my heart hammering, then whipping, then flapping. It’s become a winged beast inside my chest. It communicates with my body, with my desires. It says it wants Dove. It says take advantage of this opportunity because you may never get it again.
But my head. It’s being a stubborn fuck. It says hell no. Not like this, not in her inebriated state.
I drive down a path of indecision, my want at war with my morals.
I pull up to Dove’s apartment building and park behind it back in the shadows. Dove giggles at nothing. She is way far gone.
“Time to go,Tiburona.” I place my hand innocently on her thigh.
Her giggles turn into bubbles, which turn into a purr as she notices our warm connection. The look in her eye is predatory.
“You want me,Guapo?”
I snicker uncomfortably. “You know I do.” Why not be honest? She probably won’t remember this conversation in the morning anyway. Too bad I will.
She hesitates for just a second, then crawls across the bench seat of my Colorado. I’m caught completely and pleasantly by surprise. She makes herself comfortable by straddling my lap.
Every part of my body throbs, but I don’t lay a hand on her. My palms just hover in the air.
“What are you so afraid of, Tate?” She guides my hands to her ass.
“I heard you bite,” I make a terrible joke.
“I do.” Dove clutches my face and kisses me, and the need is imminent. It’s one of the most painful kisses I have ever endured, because as much as I want this woman. As much as I want to rip her clothes off and let her ride me right here in this seat, I know it’s wrong.
