Page 4 of Too Hot to Handle


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“Does my presence bother you?” I ask him.

His jaw flexes as he glances over at me and says hoarsely. “It's not you. It's me.”

“What do you mean?” My eyes widen when I see the bulge in his pants growing bigger. My heart rate ticks up as my breathing becomes hot and heavy.

When he doesn't answer my question, I ask, “Why can't I live on my own, Jay?”

He repeats firmly, “You can't live alone.”

“Why not?” I press. I don't know why I'm pushing him, just that it feels right to do so.

He glances over at me and licks his lips before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and flicking the air conditioning on high. “It’s not safe for a pretty thing like you all alone. Men would beat down the door trying to get to you.” He shakes his head. “Can't have that.”

My face flushes with pleasure as I realize Jay called me pretty. I lean closer to him over the seat. “You think I'm pretty?”

He glances at me, sweat beading on his upper lip this time. “Pretty is an understatement. You're beautiful. Bet you drive all the boys crazy, don't you?”Jay’s fingers flex on the steering wheel, and his shoulders are tense.

I shake my head. “Dad never let me date.”

Jay seems to relax somewhat. “No fucking wonder. He knew he'd have to beat them off you with a stick if he did.”

I don't know what he's talking about, but the tone of his voice makes my stomach all fluttery. I realize something I haven't considered until this moment. “But I’m eighteen now, so I can date if I want to.”

Jay's frown deepens, and his hands grip the steering wheel so hard I'm surprised he doesn't snap it in half.

“Over my dead body,” he growls.

I frown at him, though a small part of me thrills at how he says it.

He glances over at me and adds, “Your father trusts me to take care of you, Layla. If he doesn't want you dating boys, we should abide by his rules.”

“I don't have to date a boy,” I tell him. “You can take me on my first date.”

The car jerks and Jay nearly runs off the road before he regains control of the vehicle.

He gapes over at me before closing his mouth, his throat working. Suddenly, I know Jay is the only one I want to take me on my first date. In fact, I want him to be my first everything.

“Layla, I'm old enough to be your father,” he finally says.

I shrug. “So what? Dad said I can't go on a date with boys, so you take me on a date, Jay. You’re not a boy. You’re a man.”

Jay sputters for a moment before he settles on, “Exactly.”

But I’m completely married to this idea now. I want this big, hulking, sexy man to be the one to show me how a man treats a woman. I know Jay would take care of me the way a man is supposed to. A high school boy would never compare. “Jay, I'm eighteen, and I've never been on a date. Please?”

Jay looks at me, his jaw slack. “It would be inappropriate. Hell, Layla, you're going to be living with me. You're basically my ward.”

“No, I'm not,” I tell him stubbornly. “You're not my legal guardian.”

“Layla,” he says my name in that firm, authoritative tone, and my nipples start aching.

“You’re my friend's daughter. You're going to be living with me, and I'm way too old for you. This subject is closed.”

“But—"

He cuts me off with a stern look.

Muscles I didn't even know I had flutter. I bite my lip and look at him pleadingly.

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