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The house didn’t look right.
It was dark, the way it always was, but tonight was different. Tonight the house looked strange. I realized that all of the lights were out. Not just to my house, but to the entire street. Fucking power outage. I shook my head. Great. Just one more thing to deal with. I could still write my essays on my laptop, but the battery wouldn’t last long. Besides, with the power out, I wouldn’t be able to use the Internet.
Just one more nightmare.
Just one more thing to deal with.
I took the steps to the front door two at a time, and then I turned on my phone so I could use the light to see in my bag. My keychain was somewhere at the bottom. Since I’d walked that day instead of driving, I’d left my car keys at home. I walked as much as I could to save the environment and all of that good stuff, and I never really saw the point in dragging my car keys around when I wasn’t actually in the car. I spotted my house key at the bottom of the bag and I reached for it, but that was when it hit me.
I wasn’t alone.
I smelled him before I saw him. Dark, sultry, smooth. He was chocolate and coffee and naughtiness all wrapped up in one sleek suit. He didn’t belong on my porch. I didn’t know why he had come.
“Don’t scream,” Locke said casually. He was leaning against the wall beside the door. I had been so damn close to him and hadn’t noticed him at all. That was when it finally hit me just how tired and stressed I was. I was preoccupied. Thank goodness it was Locke on my porch. What if it had been someone else? What if it had been someone who wanted something really bad? Nausea swept over me. What if it had been someone who wanted to hurt me? I wouldn’t have known until it was too late.
Instead of screaming, and instead of feeling relief that it was only Locke, I decided to take the full bitch approach. I was tired, and I was emotionally drained, and I really didn’t want to deal with my emotions about this guy.
“What the fuck are you doing on my porch?” I snapped at him, glaring. I turned, giving him my complete attention. My backpack dropped onto the porch, and I set my phone down on it before standing back up and putting my hands on my hips. The entire thing was ridiculous. I knew that.
Even in the darkness, I could sense him raising an eyebrow, as if to ask me, “Whose house?” He didn’t say anything, though. He just stared at me: his eyes piercing mine. How the hell did he manage to do that? I had grown up in the damn trailer park, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t take crap from anyone...except him.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled, realizing that I’d lost the battle and he hadn’t even said a single word. There was a part of me that ached for him to think I was being good. Where had that urge come from? I wanted him to think I was a good girl, that I wasn’t the type of girl who went around causing trouble. “Locke...Mr. Locke,” I corrected myself before he did. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve changed my mind about the money,” he said without hesitation. “I’d like it back.” He held out his hand, as though the money was just going to appear in it. Was he serious?
“You’ve...what?” I asked. It was a good thing it was dark outside because I guarantee all of the color had just faded from my face and disappeared.
“I’d like it back, please,” he said. “The money I gave you,” he added, as though I hadn’t heard him the first time. I stared at him for a minute, but he didn’t say anything else.
So he was serious.
I could lie to him, I realized. I could tell him that I’d bring it by his office the next day and then just not show up. I could say that my roommate had experienced some sort of personal emergency and that I’d chosen to help her out. I could say something like that, couldn’t I? But somehow, I thought that he was the kind of person who would just know. I got the impression that lying to him wasn’t going to work out in my favor.
“I don’t...I don’t have it,” I told him, exasperated. Maybe honesty was the best policy. Maybe it was going to bite me in the ass. I had no idea, but I was tired, and I wanted to go inside. I didn’t like how I felt around Locke. He made me uncomfortable, and horny, and neither of those was a good thing to be feeling right now. “What do you mean you want it back? You said you didn’t want that money.”
“I gave it to you, but I got the impression you didn’t actually appreciate it. I’d like it back.” Once again, his voice was even. He didn’t sound mad or excited. He didn’t sound like this encounter was making him aroused. Why the hell was I getting aroused? I hated – hated – the way that every time I was close to this guy, my panties started to feel wet. I hated how all I could think about was what it would feel like to be before him on my knees.
“What game are you playing?” I asked, shaking my head. “I don’t have it anymore.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him what happened to the money, but I didn’t. That was none of his business. It wasn’t his concern who I gave that money to or where I spent it. That was my money, as far as I was concerned. I might not have earned it, but he gave it to me fair and square.
“You want to play a game?” He said, stepping forward. “Is that it?” He mimicked his movements from earlier, invading my space, but this time, we were totally, completely alone. There were no secretaries who could walk in. There were no CEOs. It was only the two of us. The nighttime air surrounded us, begging us to follow our emotions in this moment. “Because I know more than a few games, little girl, and I don’t think you’re ready for them.”
“I’m not a little girl,” I protested, stomping my foot. Fuck. This was irritating. If he wasn’t my landlord, I would have pushed him away and hurried inside and away from him. Safety. I would have rushed to safety and to privacy. Okay, let’s be honest: I would have rushed inside and masturbated like crazy because he was driving me mad.
“Then why are you acting like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum?” Again, his voice was even and level, but this time, there was just a hint of danger.
“What?” I opened my mouth, shocked. That time, I reached out and I did shove him away. The movement caught him off-guard. He was shocked, surprised even, and he stepped back hastily.
“I must say,” he said. “Your manners have reached an all-time low, Miss Key.”
“Locke,” I whispered, shaking my head. “What are you doing on my porch?”
“The money.”
“Is gone,” I said.
“Well, then,” he said. “I suppose you’ll have to think of a way to repay me.” His voice was sharp and there was irritation there. I didn’t miss it.
“Repay you?” Could my jaw open any wider? Shock and anger filled me. “You told me that money was a gift.”
