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“Do you want to come in?” I asked, trying to climb out of the black hole we’d fallen into.
“No.”
I stared him in the eyes. “Are you staying at that cougar’s place?”
“Fuck off, Manon.”
“Ew. Aren’t we shitty?” I sang, despite hating myself by the minute. Why couldn’t I just be nice or apologetic or seductive?
I froze instead, waiting for something. Or was he really wanting to leave?
“Why don’t you come in?” I bit into my cheek, then softened my voice. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that.”
He puffed out a breath and kept staring deep into my eyes. His big blue eyes filled with confusion. He looked so serious.
“Come on.” I patted his large hand. “I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”
He maintained a serious frown. He was either seriously sensitive or religious.
That kiss in the forest was not from the lips of someone who’d drank from the blood of Christ or swallowed the holy host or whatever consumables were foisted upon worshippers.
“You’re too much for me, Manon.”
“I’m too young. Is that it? You only go for older women with fake breasts?”
His unblinking stare burned into me. I’d offended him again.
The silence overwhelmed me. All I could hear was the ticking of the meter. The driver had turned off his engine. He probably got that all the time—the push and pull of couples. Either arguing or trying to convince the other to come in for a drink and a fuck. Only it was usually the man doing the coaxing.
After more of an awkward gap, and his spellbinding gaze making me forget to breathe, Drake grabbed me almost roughly, and his lips were on mine before I could open my mouth.
It was an angry kiss. But hell, it was fucking hot.
I could imagine him fucking me hard.
I wanted that. I wanted him to hurt me.
His dick ramming into me.
Pounding the ache out of me.
I finally pulled away only because I sensed the driver was having his own little show.
“Why don’t you come in?”
He went to pay for the cab, but I stopped him.
“Please let me. I’m earning a lot more than you.”
He continued to appear ruffled, like I was messing with his head. It was pretty straightforward; I thought. I was earning loads more than him.
We stood on the path, and his eyes were at his feet, like he didn’t want to be there or something.
“I could’ve paid.” He circled his foot, wrapped in Nike.
“I turn twenty-one next week, and I’ll be a millionaire, Drake, so don’t think about it for another minute. Okay?” I took his hand.
That kiss still warmed my lips, and I wanted more.
