AllFreeNovel
Share Us
THE SUGGESTION DOESwarm my insides. The twinkling lights draped along the ceiling of the cedar-lined trailer don’t help me say no. Plus, his double mattress is big enough for us to do all sorts of naughty things on.
“You’re not the first drunken Creed I’ve helped into bed. And that’s all this is, me helping you into bed.” If I say it, it’s the truth ... right?
“What brother do I need to punch?” His slurred words come out in a growly grunt.
The strong smell of alcohol stings my nose.
I wave a hand between us. “Wow, you hit the hard booze.”
“I was trying to win over your brother.”
“Did it work? Did you win him over?” I’m being sarcastic, but I’m not sure he catches it.
“He didn’t want to punch me when we parted. Progress.” He holds up his arms in a small shrug before he unbuttons his jeans. “But then he was more interested in the brunette hanging on his arm.”
Johnny’s pants hit the floor. I try not to stare at his long, lean legs.
“Like what you see?” He tries to do a sexy stance but trips over his own feet and slams into the wall. “Shit.”
The trailer shakes and vibrates.
“Wow. I would think a Creed knows how to hold his alcohol, but you’re a lush.” I grab his arm and help to steady him away from the wall.
“You’re a lush.”
I laugh.
His hand cups the side of my face. “You’re luscious. Delicious.” His eyes slide down to my lips.
“Eyes up here.” I wiggle my fingers between us and point in the direction of my eyes until his gaze meets mine. “I’m the perfect lady who would never take advantage of a drunken gentleman.”
“I’m a gentleman.” I’m not sure if he’s announcing it or asking me. “But I would much appreciate it if you did take advantage of me.”
“Not tonight, Romeo.”
I help Johnny to his bed. His body collapses and bounces on the inflatable mattress so hard I fear it might pop.
He groans, punching the pillow under his head. “Just like the old days.” His eyes are closed.
I lift his bare legs off the blanket. Sparks ignite. I try to be the perfect lady. I really do. I try not to let my gaze run up and down his rock-hard, godly body. I pretend I don’t see the dips and grooves of his muscles or the bulge under his briefs. I swallow hard as I spread the plaid throw over him.
He catches my wrist when I begin to stand. His eyes remain closed. His lips are partially apart.
“Thank you for not hating me. I was afraid to come home. Afraid you’d hate me.”
I pat his hand as I pry his fingers from around me. “I don’t hate you, Johnny. Get some sleep.”
“Good night, Bex.”
“Good night, Johnny.” I rest his arm over his chest and straighten.
I stare down at him. Stuck sleeping in a trailer with Johnny Creed. This is what my teenage dreams were made of. And yet, something inside me shifts a bit. I don’t see the same hot, badass guy. I mean, Johnny’s hot and badass. But he’s so much more than I’d ever known.
I sink back onto my single mattress. It’s shoved sideways in the front of the trailer. I pile the pillows against the wall and prop myself into a sitting position. I pull the cozy flannel plaid blanket up my body, bend my knees, swipe open my phone, and continue reading the column, On The Road Again, by Lone Rider. This man I’d pegged him as exists between a mass of qualities only his articles dare to express. His honesty and vulnerability are raw in each article. I can’t tear my eyes away from the adventures he’s taken. Even as my eyes start to droop and the words blur together. I must have dozed off. I don’t know for how long, but the rustle of the tent wakes me.
I sit straight up. My phone hits the plank floor. Johnny is sprawled over the mattress, sound asleep. I yank the twinkle lights out of the plug, and darkness surrounds us. I focus my ears. Was the sound inside the tent or outside? Is it human or animal? A crash tumbles from beyond the material doors. Murmurs follow. The hooligans are back, and I came prepared.
***
