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“It’s not that big of a deal. I basically live down the street from you guys.”
He tugs on the end of my ponytail, making me yelp. “You’re mouthy.”
“You like it,” I retort. “And you shouldn’t do that unless you mean it.”
“Do what?” He pulls out of the parking lot with a roar of the engine, his tires squealing.
He’s not driving that fast, yet he still manages to make a complete scene. “Pull my hair. Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”
I gulp past the sudden panic that flares up my throat. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Hopefully he doesn’t get what I’m meaning. Not that I’ve ever had a guy pull my hair or slap my ass or whatever other kinky things happen while in the midst of sex. I never thought about it enough to wonder if I’d like that sort of thing or not.
But Cam’s fingers wrapped around my hair send an automatic vision in my head of him looming over me. Intimidating.
Sexy.
Curling my hair into his fist and giving it a hard pull, yanking my head back only for him to settle his perfect mouth on mine and devour it.
A full-blown shiver moves through me at the thought.
He’s quiet long enough that the tension grows between us, in the close confines of his car, to the point of it almost suffocating me when he finally speaks.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I glance over at him to find he’s already watching me. More like he’s keeping one eye on the road while also trying to look at me, his face full of confusion. Then realization.
“You know.”
That’s all I say. And that’s all that’s said for the rest of the drive to my apartment. He pulls into the massive parking lot a few minutes later, somehow parking almost directly in front of our building, though he’s never been there before. I’m reaching for the door handle as soon as he comes to a stop, eager for once to get away from him, already halfway out of the car when he speaks.
“You into that sort of thing?”
I freeze, one leg on the ground, the other still in the car. Slowly, I turn my head to look at him. “What sort of thing?”
“Hair pulling.”
“If you were the one pulling my hair, yes.” I scramble out of the car as fast as I can, slamming the door shut and practically running to my front door. Never once looking back because how can I face him after saying something like that?
I’ve got nothing to lose, I think, as I frantically stick my key in the deadbolt and unlock it, pushing my way into our apartment. I shove the door shut, falling against it with all my weight, my backpack dropping at my feet.
Rita and Cheyenne are both sitting on the couch, watching me with confusion and concern in their eyes.
“Are you okay?” Rita asks.
Closing my eyes, I nod, trying to remember the look on Cam’s face when he asked me…
You into that sort of thing?
Yes, yes, yes! I wanted to shout at him. You can pull my hair and slap my ass all you want.
“Blair.” Rita’s voice is sharp, and I open my eyes. They’re both watching me as if I just lost my mind and they’re witnessing me falling apart. “Was someone chasing you? You’re breathing really hard.”
Cheyenne whips out her phone, her fingers poised above the screen. “I’ll call 9-1-1 right now if you want me to.”
“Put your phone away, I’m fine.” I offer them both a brief smile and push away from the door, not willing to describe what just happened to me.
“Where were you?” Rita asks me as I walk through the living room, heading for the short hallway, so I can hide away in my bedroom.
“I went to my brother’s place.”
