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I clench my hands. “Do I ask you if you’ve slept with anyone who comes in here?”
She flings her arms up, and she’s so close that her hand almost smacks me. “I’ve hardly touched anyone in this godforsaken town!”
“Good.”
“Unlikeyou.”
“Babe, you have no idea what I’ve done with who, so quit that imagination floating through your brain and stop assuming I’m fucking every woman who smiles at me.” I draw out a breath. “You know, I’m a little confused on why you even care.”
I move closer, and she backs into the bar again. She doesn’t stop me from repeating my actions from earlier—grabbing her waist, hoisting her onto the bar, and sliding my body between her toned legs.
I capture the back of her neck, dragging her closer to my face, and my fingers caress her skin. “Do you want to be one of those women, Sierra? Is that why you care so much?”
Her breaths come out in tiny pants. Her eyes flash down to mine and turn wild as they drink me in. She’s turned on, andfuck,so am I.
I ease my hand down her neck, cupping her chin, and I tilt it away, giving me space to brush my lips along the curve of her jaw. Her skin is soft against my lips. I skim kisses up her neck, feeling her chest hitch against mine, and suck on the spot below her ear. I sink my fingers into her bare thighs and spread her legs wider, noticing a flash of her panties underneath her short shorts.
This is a bad fucking idea.
It’s a line I swore I’d never cross with her.
I’m not the man for her. She needs a professional, nine-to-five man who wears fucking loafers. Not me, not a man destined to spend his life here and a man who can’t give her the life her parents have all these years.
“Is that it?” I ask, my voice harsh as I whisper against her skin. I can feel my dick growing harder with every touch. “Is that why you’re so pissed off?”
She trembles. “I work here. That’s why.”
“Bullshit.” I pull back, my hands tightening on her thighs. “I can read you like my favorite book, Sierra. I see you—the real you—and as much as you fight to hide every thought running through that pretty little head from me, I see it. Let me give you an example: Right now, I see how pissed you are at me.” I lower my tone. “I also see how much you want me.”
She reaches down to dig her fingers into my hand resting on her thigh. “You’re so full of yourself.”
I raise a brow, staring up at her. “Am I lying?”
“Maybe I can see through you. Maybe you’re the one who wants me.”
“Trust me, you can’t read me.”
She laughs. “Oh, but I can. Do you think I don’t notice your jealousy as much as mine? That I don’t see how you have to snap yourself out of your feelings for me? You want me as much as I want you, Maliki. The problem is, you’re too chickenshit to do anything about it.”
“Too chickenshit?”
“Too fucking chickenshit.”
My lips crash into hers.
Chickenshit, my ass.
We moan, and just as I start to taste her, just as my tongue enters her mouth, a loud banging blares through the room.
What the fuck?
My phone rings.
The bar phone rings.
Someone bangs on the bar door and is yelling behind it.
I make out something along the lines of, “Forgot my wallet!”
