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She rolls her eyes and stands, bending down to pick up her bag. I rise from my chair and round my desk, making her look up when I come to stand beside her. My gaze is drawn to her mouth when her tongue sneaks out to lick her bottom lip.
So goddamn irresistible.
Because she doesn’t even realize her teasing gestures, her unawareness is a turn-on.
I shove my hands inside my pockets before I lose the fight and grab her, “I’ll walk you out.”
Her addictive scent hits my nostrils, almost drowning me as she turns to stride toward the door. I don’t miss her slight intake of breath and the shiver down her spine when I follow close behind.
We’re at the door when I crowd her against it by grabbing the knob before she can. I don’t dare to touch her soft skin at the nape of her neck when she shifts, head twisting to the side. Electricity thrums between us and I know she can feel it too.
The memory of us standing just like this years ago flits through my mind.
Our chemistry was unmistakable back then as well.
Just not this strong and naked.
“Dash,” she whispers like she’s remembering it too.
I lower my mouth to her ear and growl darkly, “Stay away from Justin, kitten. I mean it.”
Chapter Twelve
DASH
(Seven years ago)
Dinner with my father is always a headache and the longest minutes of my life that I can never take back. And when I have to do it sitting across my asshole of a stepbrother, Niall, it seems never-ending. Half the time, I’m just contemplating to get up and leave without looking back, but ingrained habits are harder to kill.
My father and I have a complicated relationship. Hell, lack of a relationship is a better choice of word. The army taught him to guard and lock his emotions, so much so that he forgot his family should’ve been the exception. Instead, he turned me into his replica.
Like father, like son has never been truer.
My whole life, I’ve always felt like a burden to him and when he married the second time, it put an end to whatever little bit of a connection we had. Though we pretend one exists on the surface. He found his perfect family with a pretty wife and an obedient son. A fact Niall throws in my face every dinner while receiving endless praise from my dad. A small smile, a pat on the back, and the worst is when he says, “That’s good, son.”
An effort he could never make for his actual offspring in over twenty-eight years. However, it’s not my father’s behavior that hurts, it’s the little kid inside me that burns and no matter how hard I try to kill him, he always resurrects. The only reason I even go to these awkward dinners is because of my stepmother, who tries to include me in the family.
I don’t have the heart to tell her that those efforts are in vain.
The damage has been years in the making, there’s no fixing it. There’s no changing the man I’ve become now.
Days like today are when I reminisce over these unresolved emotions. Otherwise, they are kept locked away and never to be let out. After a long day at work, followed by a god-awful dinner, I just want to go home, have a glass of whiskey, and sleep in my bed.
However, as soon as I arrive and notice Niall’s car parked in the driveway, the peace I used to feel at having my own place dissolves into ire. It’s just my bad luck that I have to tolerate him twice in one day.
God knows I have thought so many times about kicking his spoiled ass to the curb, but my stepmom’s sweet face stops me short.
Yet people claim I’m a heartless bastard.
Parking my own car beside his, I shut the door behind me after getting out while pondering why the fuck he’s at home tonight. More often than not, he stays at his friends’ or the last I heard, at his girlfriend’s apartment.
As soon as I think of her, my annoyance shifts into burning anticipation that she might be here tonight with him. Since when was the last time I felt excited and eager to hurry inside the door? At the thought of a woman, no less? None comes to mind.
I haven’t been able to forget that woman ever since I caught her half naked in my bedroom, looking like a vision from my filthy sex dreams. No other girl has ever intrigued or caught my attention for this long or so strongly in one encounter except her.
Bianca Chopra.
Too young andforbidden.
