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“Sure as fuck do, sugar.” He patted the pocket again. “And they’re mine now.”
“LJ!” she shrieked as she dove for him, trying to shove her hand into his pocket. “They aren’t even sexy panties! They’re like my everyday, slumming around the house panties. You cannot keep them.”
He was laughing so hard, he could barely stand, and Holly nearly managed to worm her sneaky fingers into his pocket, so he bent his knees and hoisted her up and over his shoulder.
“Oh, my God, seriously, LJ?”
Damn, he just might carry her around like this all the time. Her rounded ass was just inches from his face and so damn enticing he just had to smack a palm over a cheek covered by those fitted workout pants. When she yelped, he did it again then left his hand there, fingers spread over as much surface area as he could touch. “Serious as fuck, babe. Don’t give a shit what kinda panties you had on. Don’t care if they’re your slumming panties or your goddammed Sunday best. They’re fucking soaked with how much you wanted me. I’m keeping them.”
“Ugh,” she growled. “Fine, but maybe next time I’m wearing some sexy thong or something we can swap it out.”
She was so much fucking fun. When the hell had LJ ever had this good a time just being with another person? “It’s a deal as long as they’re as wet as these.”
“Don’t have to worry about that,” she mumbled. “I pretty much say your name and my panties are soaked.”
And there went his cock, waking up once again. The fucker should have been on life support, but all this talk of Holly’s arousal was all it took to have him wanting her again. “Shit, sugar, I like you.”
She didn’t say anything else as he carried her over to the bike, then set her down. Once he’d stowed the blanket, the rest of the wine, and the cups, they climbed on the bike and started back home. The weight of Holly on his back was heavier this time, indicating her exhaustion.
When they reached the apartment complex and he killed the engine, she didn’t so much as twitch. “You alive back there?” he asked as he removed his helmet.
“Mmm, we back already? That was too fast.”
“We’re back.”
Holly climbed down from the bike, removed her helmet and hung it on the handlebar as he’d shown her earlier. Hand in hand, they walked up to the second floor. As they reached her door, LJ pressed her back against it and kissed her. He needed one last taste to get him through the night without her.
She moaned into his mouth as her tongue played with his. “Fucking loved tonight, Holly,” he whispered against her lips. “Can’t wait for more.”
Eyes closed, she smiled. “Me too. You coming i—”
He kissed her again, brief this time, but hard. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Holly blinked her eyes open. “What?” Confusion had her eyebrows drawing down. “Tomorrow?”
God, he was a fucker. Sending her into an empty apartment after all they’d shared. After all she’d shared with him. Of course she’d be confused. She’d probably curse him all throughout the night. And she wouldn’t be alone in that. He’d be cursing himself to fucking hell and back.
“Yeah, beautiful, tomorrow.” After dropping one last quick kiss to her forehead, he turned and slipped inside his apartment without another backward glance. If he saw the disappointment in her eyes, he’d be tempted to say fuck it and follow her into her bed.
And that would no doubt end in disaster. So instead, he walked straight to his room, shucked his jeans, and slipped between the covers all alone.
And when he woke three hours later on the floor, covered in a sheen of sweat and thrashing so hard, he bruised his wrist on the nightstand, he knew he’d made the right decision.
No matter how much Holly might end up hating him at some point, at least she wouldn’t be the one with bruises.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, fifteen minutes before she was supposed to meet with her father, Holly dropped into a booth at the diner. Beneath the table, her foot bounced as though her heel had been rigged with a spring. Up above, she drummed her fingers on the gleaming tabletop.
“I was gonna offer you some of this coffee, but I think you’re jittery enough. What gives, girl?”
Holly looked up to find Jazz standing next to her booth, coffeepot in one hand, the other propped on her hip. She wore a denim skirt and a long-sleeved diner T-shirt. “Hey, Jazz, you serving today or am I just special?” She shot her friend a grin.
With a laugh, Jazz slipped into the seat opposite Holly. “How about we go with a little bit of both. Shell had to run out early. Beth’s preschool called saying she had a slight fever.” She flipped over the white porcelain cup, then filled it with coffee.
