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The woman doesn’t argue or fight, but she gives Wendee a death glare as she leaves the booth. I take a note of it and of her face before she leaves. That will be the last time sheeverlooks at Wendee that way. I’ll address it later. Right now, my attention is on the beautiful, frustrating, and intriguing woman standing in front of me. Now that she’s here, and I’ve allowed her to stay, she doesn’t seem to know what to do. Hell, I don’t know what the fuck to do.
“Well, are you going to stand there all night or would you like to have a seat?”
She blushes but slides into the booth next to me, on my left, the opposite side the other woman was just sitting on. Her scent wafts over to me and I greedily inhale her air into my lungs, wishing I could hold onto it forever. I keep my right hand on my drink but lift my left arm over the back of the seat and lean my body slightly towards her. It’s a large booth but she settles in just within my reach. It’s entirely too fucking close and not nearly close enough.
She clears her throat, “Thank you for letting me stay.”
“I have a feeling you’d just keep trying if I denied you.”And I don’t want to deny you.Even though it’s silent, that admission unsettles me. She unsettles me.
She gives me a shy smile, “You’d be right.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, exactly. There’s just something about you. Something…familiar. I know it sounds crazy but I feel drawn to you.”
“Is that all? You’remysticallydrawn to me?” I raise one eyebrow in mock humor as I take in her embarrassed and unsure expression.
She meets my eyes again and hers betray her expression. There’s definitely somethingdeepermotivating her. Something she’s feeling and not saying but, since I’m not one for talking in general, I don’t push her for the truth.
She reaches for her drink and takes a sip. I decide to change the subject for both our sake.
“I didn’t think you’d be drinking again so soon after last night,” I observe.
She groans. “Last night was a mess,Iwas a mess.” She shakes her head. “It’s just Dr. Pepper, no alcohol. No alcohol for a while. Last night…,” she trails off.
A lot happened last night. I’m not sure what part she’s going to bring up. The fact that she watched me murder someone would be at the top of my list if I was in her shoes.
“You saved me, twice now, but I’m confused. Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly grateful by the way. I really can’t thank you enough.”
The memory of her lips brushing against the corner of my mouth comes back full force. It’s so fresh in my mind, so intense, that it feels as if she just leaned in and did it again. Only this time, I want to turn my head and capture her mouth with mine. I want to taste her and drinkherdown instead of my bourbon. Which is in-fucking-sane because I don’t kiss. I don’t touch. I PUNISH. I fuck and get off.That’sit.
“But I don’t understand how you can want to save me when you seem to hate me more than anything in the world and--”
“I don’t hate you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through. I don’t hate her? Until this very moment, I wasn’t sure if I did or not.
“You don’t?”
I shake my head.
She furrows her brows, clearly thinking about our previous encounters. “But the way you look at me sometimes…I don’t know, but I swear it looks like hate, or even disgust.”
“I hate what you remind me of and I hate the way you make me feel.” Another admission I didn’t see coming.
“Oh,” she licks her lips, her chest is rising higher as her breathing is getting heavier. “How do I make you feel?”
“You make mefeel,” I try and explain. “That’s enough to piss me off because I’m not the type of man thatfeelsanything.”
“Oh,” she repeats. She drops her gaze to her glass and spins it around on the table, needing an outlet for her nervous energy. “I love the way you make me feel,” she whispers. I’m not sure if she meant to whisper it out loud or not but her admission definitely piques my interest.
I reach my hand out until my fingers are lightly grabbing her chin, turning her face towards me. She gasps at the touch, seemingly just as shocked as I am, but her eyes remain downcast.
“Wendee.” it’s the first time I’ve said her name and it gets her attention. Her luminous green eyes raise up to meet mine. They’re full of uncertainty, hope, andneed.
She licks her lips again and they stay slightly parted, as she lets out a breathy, “Yes?”
“How do I make you feel?” I ask, as my thumb lightly traces her luscious bottom lip.
“Alive.”
