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When his hand snaked under the hem of my shirt, though, it snapped me back to the present. “Wait,” I gasped, breaking the kiss. “Not now.”
Horace looked at me for a few seconds, then leaned in again. His kiss was hungrier and more aggressive, and his hand found my breast quickly and squeezed. I pushed him back.
“Horace, no,” I said. “I don’t want to do this. And definitely not here.”
He sat back and sighed in frustration. “Why the fuck not?”
I frowned. “For starters, I’m not in the right mindset. I’m emotional, not horny. Second, a parking lot? Really?”
“Martha, it’s been a month,” he complained. “I don’t know what you’re waiting for, but this is longer than I’ve ever waited.”
“Wow,” I mouthed. “Can’t keep your pants on?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What?”
“OK, first, I thought you were a little reserved,” Horace said. “I thought, she’s a girl who wants to take things slow, maybe even a virgin, who knows. Eventually, she’ll break out of her shell. But after I met your son…”
I sat back in shock. “After you met my son?”
He pursed his lips.
“What? You thought I’d open my legs to anyone just because I have a son?”
“Well, you’re not saving yourself for Mr. Right.”
His words stung, and for the first time, I could completely see what Anne and Jimmy were trying to warn me about. The spoiled little brat!
“So this is it?” I asked. “You were playing the long game? All of the charm and chivalry was just to get into my pants?”
Horace threw his hands up in frustration. “Excuse me for wanting to fuck.”
“Then go find yourself a whore!” I yelled.
“I thought I already did!”
I slapped him. Hard.
Before he could react, I was out of the car and walking towards the Range Rover, looking over my shoulder, half worried Horace would follow me out and do something stupid.
He didn’t.
I stopped and watched in horror as he turned the ignition, reversed, and skidded as he turned. He stopped right next to me.
“Find your own fucking way home,” he said, and with that, drove off.
I watched him leave and stood there for what felt like an eternity, unable to wrap my head around what had just happened.
A hand on my shoulder made me jump and scream. It was the couple from the Range Rover.
“Are you OK?” the girl asked me.
I barely caught Horace’s car turning a corner before looking back at the couple.
“Any chance I can get a ride back into the city?” I asked.
Chapter 8
