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She went still in my grip. From my position, my mouth just below her ear, I could see straight down into the cleavage of her t-shirt. She was mostly covered, but my imagination didn’t need much to go on. I could see the beginning of the shadow between her breasts, and it made me want to pull every stitch of clothing off her. That was how not nice I was.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said.
“You meant it exactly like that.” I had my arm around her waist, pinning her hand up against her back, and now I pulled her forward, pressed her slowly to me. I raised my head so my lips were an inch from her jawline, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “You wanted a guy who isn’t nice, well, you got him. That’s me. I did you a favor, not answering you. You don’t like it, go find Bank Boy’s fucking twin.”
Evie inhaled a breath. She was relaxing a little against me, some of the fury leaving her expression. She didn’t try to get out of my grip. “So that’s it?” she said, her voice not quite as harsh. “You just get to act like an ass whenever you want?”
“No,” I said, meaning it. “I’ll apologize to your mother. I disrespected her. Your sister too. But I don’t promise I’m going to be nicer to them than I was at dinner. I don’t promise to be fake and friendly. I don’t promise to be tame.”
“Damn it,” she said under her breath, almost to herself. Her breath was mixing with mine, her mouth was so close to me. “Why are you like this?”
“What can I say? I’m complicated.”
“You’re a disaster,” she said. She briefly bit her lip. “And you never taught me how to get out of this hold.”
“We’re face to face, Evie,” I said. “Easiest way is to knee me in the balls.”
Her eyes flashed like I’d given her an idea, but I let her go before she could act on it. I dropped her wrist, raised my hands, cupped her jaw, and kissed her.
She kissed me back. Slowly at first. Then she fell into it, just like I did, her mouth opening under mine, her body leaning in, her tongue tasting me. And it was all there. Her and me, everything there was, everything we’d done, it was right there between us. That kiss was the way we talked and the way we fought and the way we fucked. I kissed her and I could taste the way she came, on my cock or my hands or my tongue. I could taste the way she’d gone on her knees and sucked me off. I could feel everything. It was the only fucking thing I wanted anymore. And there was nothing I could do.
We broke the kiss, and she pressed her hands against my shoulders, curling them into fists. “Shit,” she said. She punched my shoulder softly, with no bite to it. “Shit.”
“Come back to my place and fuck me,” I said, because that was what I wanted. And a man’s gotta try.
She looked tempted, and she licked her lip quickly like she could still taste me, but her spine straightened under my hands. “No,” she said. “We’re not doing that right now. I’m still mad.”
“Angry fucking is the best fucking,” I said. At least, it would be with her. An angry fuck with Evie would be like a volcano going off. But she backed out of my grip—reluctantly, I thought—and I let her go.
I watched her straighten up, focus. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me. “There’s something I want from you first,” she said.
I racked my lust-addled brain for a second. What could she want? She’d turned down sex. She wasn’t the kind to ask for money. Aside from those two things, no one ever wanted anything from me. “What is it?” I said.
She reached into the back pocket of her sexy jeans and pulled something out. A small white square. A business card. “I want to know all about Andrew Mason, PHP programmer.”
Shit. The business card she’d found in Andrew’s jacket. “No,” I said, the word automatic.
“Yes,” Evie shot back. “You fucked up my family dinner. You practically just admitted it.”
“I do admit it,” I said.
“So we agree. And you saw my screwed-up family, warts and all. What I want in return is the same thing from you.”
I shook my head. Andrew was off limits; Andrew was always off limits. “No way,” I said. “No deal. My brother is nobody’s business.”
“Why? I assume he’s a grown man who doesn’t let you make all his decisions.”
“Because he just is. All right? He just is.”
She seemed to think it over. “Not good enough,” she said. She held up the card again. “Either you take me to meet him, and show me whatever it is you’re hiding, or I’ll call him myself.”
Damn it, she was fighting dirty again. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.” She put the card in her back pocket again. “I have his number. His email, too. I’ll just introduce myself. Should I say I’m your girlfriend? Yes, I think I will.”
She had me, damn it. Because I had no doubt she would do it. I felt cold sweat on the back of my neck. Why it was so terrifying, I couldn’t really say. I just knew it was. “You sure you don’t want to go fuck instead?” I asked in a last-ditch effort.
She gave me a little smile at that. A Mona Lisa smile. I could have jumped her for that smile alone. “Do this and I’m all yours,” she said.
