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Swallowing, she set the drink on the table beside his empty glass and bent across the table. “Is that all the hello I get, Becky? I thought we were better friends than that.”
“Friends?” He leaned back and regarded her steadily. “Well….friend,” he mocked lightly, “ forgive me if I try to hang on to my wallet, I don’t want to be found penniless and with the tab.”
She clucked saucily, stood and made to seat beside him, and he halted her swiftly with one hand on her elbow, his touch buzzing through her unexpectedly.
“That seat’s taken?” she asked when she recovered. “Aww. You want me on your lap, don’t you,” she said, her voice soft, and then she climbed on top of his lap.
Feeling very much the evil seductress, she bent her head to his ear and felt him go motionless beneath her. “See? A part of you wouldn’t mind to go slumming with me. Don’t you hate me for being so pretty, Beckham?”
He grabbed her hips and she expected to be raised and shoved aside, but instead, angry hands pulled her down harder to his lap, shocking her.
Steel pressed into her buttocks and it took her a heart-stopping, toe-curling moment to realize it was his cock. Fully erect on his lap.
His voice tumbling into her ear, his finger’s biting into her hips, he warned her in a deadly voice, “If my sister weren’t watching, I’d show you right here and right now what would make me immensely happy.”
A streak of lightning rushed through her as his voice reached her core and he pumped his hips upward so she could feel him.
He didn't sound angry but he sounded incredibly aroused. It frightened her. It aroused her too. That definitely frightened her.
She leapt to her feet and spun around ,unsettled, unsure of what to do. She grabbed her cocktail from the table and dumped the contents on his head.
“Don't count on it, Becks, I like my men with balls enough to take me when I climb into bed with them.”
And before he could react, her heart roaring wildly in her ears, she grabbed something from the table that probably belonged to him, and she blended into the crowd.
“Oh my god, why did you do that? What did he say?” her friends exploded.
Too late she realized they had all been watching. Even Calli.
“He said um, n-nothing. I’m sorry, Calli, I just…” She realized she’d taken his keys. Oh, God, she’d thought she was over this issue. But he made her too anxious and… “Can you please give these to him?” She put the keys in Calli’s hands and then she stumbled around and headed outside, her throat constricting painfully tight.
So she was back to stealing?
She hadn’t stolen anything in ten years.
She didn’t seem to steal anything from anyone except…him.
She didn’t understand why.
She swallowed as she searched her phone to call for a taxi. She didn’t want to spend the money on taxi but she didn’t want to stay here after what she’d done either. She wanted to make peace. Some sort of closure. But her impulsive attitude with him would get her nowhere. This was such a bad idea, she didn’t even know why she’d thought, a few weeks ago, that it was a good one.
The taxi halted, and as she slid inside, someone slid behind her and slammed the door shut, putting out a hundred dollar bill and barking out an address.
Sandy turned, her mouth open in protest, but Beckham grabbed her lips with two fingers and urged them closed. “Not now,” he growled.
Two
He was dripping in whatever shit had been in her drink. Margarita, it tasted like. It was in his hair, sliding down his face. He was fuming, trembling with his rage. And he was also hard as fuck. Even after the stunt she’d pulled, Beckham stared at her oval-face and her stunned, slightly-scared blue eyes and her wacky curly hair and he wanted nothing more than to fist his hands in that hair and put his mouth right on top of that sassy, infuriating mouth of hers.
At his side, she rode quietly, turning away and taking a slow, long breath.
She’d stolen his fucking car keys. He ha
dn’t even realized she’d done it until Calli came back with them. Rage unlike any other mingled with lust and all he knew was that nobody got to him this way.
He wasn’t Mr. Merry but he was definitely not the Grinch, except with Sandy he never failed to go ape-man. She never had to do much to get him there, really.
He noticed how her slender frame shook and the urge to put his arms around her niggled at him so hard, he fisted his hands at his sides. He knew his natural male instinct was to take care of females. He’d always been protective of Calli. He’d always been very respectful of his female employees. Even with the women he had sex with, and even when he played them hard, he took care of them afterward, ensuring they were all right, that he hadn’t hurt them. But he’d never felt the instinct to protect a female so strongly, and hurt her at the same time.
