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The woman replaces the receiver. She narrows an eye at Paige’s hand. “Where’s your engagement ring?”
“We’re Pagan.”
With a grumble, she motions at the next customer to move up. “Guess you look too old to be a runaway. And you’re capable enough if you’re in here buying half the store.”
I can’t tell if Paige is relieved or pissed from being called old, but I grab the bags and follow her outside. She rushes to the car and tries to yank the door open before I can hit unlock on my key.
“Just a sec,” I say, hitting the button and stuffing bags in the trunk.
When we’re both in the car, she stares nervously at the store entrance like someone will run out, pointing a gun in our direction. Then she jams ear buds in her ears and rests her forehead against the window, eyes closed.
I don’t ask questions. I drive. But damn, I have a lot of questions.
AT HOME, I STAND IN the kitchen, leaning against the sink, arms crossed. Paige sorts through her bags on the couch, ignoring my stare. All the adrenaline pumping through my veins, all my tensed muscles, and she won’t look at me.
I’m pissed that I don’t know what the hell is going on. I can only assume she has an abusive ex—maybe he has roommates?—and now the guy is looking for her. Shouldn’t she have a restraining order? Some court date or trial to get the guy locked up?
I force my body to loosen because I can’t approach this with anger. That will only make Paige defensive. “Please tell me what’s happening,” I say. No gruffness. No demands. Just an honest plea. “Did you and Amber go to the police before coming here? It sounds like your ex is looking for you.”
Her movements falter, and she stares at the carpet. She shakes her head.
“Please tell me. Maybe I can help.”
After a moment, she lifts her phone. Her body droops like someone stole her spark.
Why? I can’t stand women around me hurting. Maybe that’s a pussy answer, but it’s the truth. I grew up watching my mom struggle, and then my sister. I always seem to be useless. The more I try to help, the more I’m pushed away. The one time I stepped back to do my own thing with that competition last year, Amber jumped off the deep end.
I can’t respond, so Paige straightens her back, trying to regain herself.
“Okay.”
She turns away so I can’t see her expression. Which is good because I don’t want her to see mine. My face is hot.
She sorts through another bag and then sets a stack of magazines on the kitchen table. I can’t think of what to do next, can’t muster the strength to walk to the couch, so I stand in front of the sink as she grabs a Popsicle from the freezer and sits to read. Leaning over the table, she flips pages as the red Popsicle slides in and out of her mouth, staining her lips. In and out. In and out. She sucks the Popsicle in and pulls it back out. It’s mindless. I know she’s not teasing me on purpose.
Fuck, it’s sexy. Each pass of that red frozen pop over her pretty, petite mouth only turns me on more. Combine that with everything swirling inside my chest and, before I know it, I’m raging hard.
Popsicle juice drips down her chin. She catches it before it stains the magazine. Her head snaps up, looking for a hand towel. Then her eyes find mine. Her gaze slides to my chest, down my stomach, over my belt buckle. She stops, gaze fixated on my bulge.
Knowing she’s looking makes me throb. I grip the counter behind me, widening my stance and shifting my hips forward. I should turn around or leave the room. I should. But I want her to look. I want her to see what she does to me. Some real alpha male bullshit.
Paige sucks the Popsicle into her mouth again and stands—sucks it all the way into her mouth without gagging. I exhale. Her lips wrapped around my girth would feel like heaven. Kissing her would be heaven.
She closes the distance between us. A smirk plays at her mouth as she presses her pelvis against mine. My hands twitch, begging to touch her, but I keep them still, squeezing the counter’s edge with all my strength. The heat of our bodies mixes as blood pounds in my ears.
I won’t touch, but I’m filled with want. God, I want. I want to take her mouth, throw her on the table and rip those damn yoga pants off. I want to press inside her until she’s gasping and clawing at my back. I want her moans ringing in my ears as I thrust, pushing her body closer and closer to the edge. I want so much that my muscles burn from holding back.
She lifts the Popsicle to my lips and presses the cold, cherry taste into my mouth. I bite. She smiles, devours the rest of the Popsicle, and then tosses the stick in the sink. Before I can swallow what’s in my mouth, she runs a hand along my thigh, outlining the shape of my dick. I choke, coughing, until the icy cherry chunk slides down my throat.
Fuck, she’s bold. I love it.
Her smile widens as she licks the red off her lips. Her hand pushes under my shirt and traces the grooves of my abs. She licks her lips again. Then her fingers grip my belt and undo the buckle.
This is too much. I have to touch. I need to touch or I’ll lose my mind. I’m feverish from wanting her. All she does is run through my thoughts all day. I silence the little Amber voice in my head yelling at me not to indulge in my desires. Do not touch. But I need to. Just once. I need to know what it’s like to be with Paige just once. Then my thoughts will give me peace.
I lift my hand toward her chin, staring at her mouth. I’ll start with her lips. A simple kiss to…
Keys jingle in the door lock and my heart jumps into my throat. I whip around to face the sink. Paige growls and moves to the freezer.
