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“I guess,” she replied, hoping her hesitation didn’t betray her thoughts. She focused on what it’d been like to be an only child, growing up. “I mostly remember being bored. That’s probably why I started to crave excitement. Making up for a boring childhood.”
“And am I exciting enough for you, little girl?”
The growly way he said it insinuated that if she said no, he’d change her mind fast. She never knew when sweet and protective Fox was going to turn into barely civilized Fox. The switch could flip between the two any time, and trying to anticipate when it would happen was like a drug.
“You? You’re like driving a winding road in a fast car with cops on my tail,” she admitted. “And not being sure if my brakes work.”
A lazy smile crooked his mouth, and he tugged her closer by the trapped lock of hair. He kissed her slowly, like he had forever.
Chapter 12
“No, seriously, who taught you how to dance?” she asked for the third time.
Such a curious little kitty. “I taught myself, if you must know.” He laughed self-consciously. Even in this day and age men who could really dance were an oddity.
“You didn’t strike me as the dancing type.” She bit her lip as though she was wondering if the statement was enough to get her in trouble.
He quirked a brow at her and leaned his elbow on the bar. He’d driven them to the next town over, hoping they wouldn’t get spotted by Marcel’s men. Keeping her cooped up all the time was fun, but she deserved more. She worked hard, between school, her part-time job, and helping them in the garage, and she deserved a chance to cut loose somewhere other than his bed.
The place was new and packed and it was taking forever to get drinks. “I don’t seem the dancing type because I’m a man?”
A guy behind her was checking out her ass, and he put a possessive arm around her. Men’s gazes were inevitably drawn to her. The short black dress she wore showed off her every curve, and the sky-high heels made her legs and ass impossible to look away from. And the cleavage? Ugh. He kept having to stop himself from sliding his fingers down between the tightly pressed swells. Like she wasn’t hot enough without the dress she was wearing? He kept imagining tit fucking her.
“No, because you’re all . . . big and muscley and dominant.” She pressed against him, gazing up at him with undisguised sexual hunger. Although she’d only had two drinks, the alcohol had loosened her tongue and made her less guarded. “On the way to the club I’d assumed we’d be sitting on the sidelines drinking and touching each other inappropriately. It just never occurred to me that we’d be on the dance floor. You don’t dance all prissy either. You dance like you fuck. It takes a lot of willpower to resist you.”
He’d expected the twitch of a sarcastic smile around her lips, but her expression held candid sexual interest.
The tension that was always zinging between them amped up. If he leaned her just slightly over the bar in this crowd, would anyone notice if he slid inside her?
This was ridiculous. They had to be able to resist each other for short periods of time.
“I was a short kid until grade eleven. I had to do something to give myself an edge with women, so I honed . . . other talents.” The bartender finally noticed him, and he ordered her a third drink.
She smirked at the mention of his other talents. “Being short must have been rough.” Her smile was sympathetic. “I didn’t grow tits for the longest time. My mom bought me sports bras, even though I didn’t need them, just so I wouldn’t feel like a freak.”
He snorted, wondering if she’d regret telling him that later on when the buzz wore off. Knowing Addison, probably not.
When her drink was finally in hand, he steered her away from the bar and led her down the side hallway.
“Where are we going?” she murmured, then gave a nervous laugh.
“Exactly how drunk are you?”
She raised her brows. “I have a bit of a buzz, but nothing serious. Why?”
“Excellent.” They went around a corner to the storage room he’d seen near the men’s room, and used the swipe card he’d bribed off a server.
“Fox!” she whispered, checking behind them as he pulled her inside. “Where did you get that? What are we doing?”
He shut the door behind her then pressed her back against it, snagging her drink out of her hand and putting it on a stack of boxes. Her questions disappeared under his punishing kiss. Watching other men run lecherous eyes over her beautiful body for the last two hours made him both proud to have her on his arm and possessive as hell. And watching her dance—he wasn’t the only one who moved like they wanted to fuck.
Her hands came up to his chest, but only dug into his T-shirt to pull him closer, as though she’d been hoping he’d do this all night. She tasted like tequila and lust.
The plans he’d made earlier were going to get away on him if he didn’t slow down. Fucking her now hadn’t been part of it, but the hungry way she kissed him was tempting him to change his mind.
Reluctantly, he grabbed her shoulders and moved her away, almost losing resolve when she pressed against him again and pouted when he wouldn’t let her draw him back into kissing.
She sighed. “Why are you being difficult? If you didn’t bring me back here to have sex, what’s the plan? Are we stealing something?”
