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Chapter 12
Blake was in a foul mood when he entered Madigan’s the following night. It was like he was being summoned to the principal’s office, and he wasn’t a fan of the feeling. It also didn’t help that he immediately locked eyes with Nico who gave him an almost imperceptible nod, then glanced toward the door leading to the back. As if that prick had the right to tell him what to do. Blake made his way to the bar and ordered his usual.
“Sorry, Boss Lady wants to see you first,” the bartender said.
Blake couldn’t think of the kid’s name, but right about now he wanted to drag his ass out of there in handcuffs for - well, something - if only Blake could think of what that something was to arrest him for.
With a huff of annoyance, Blake stood and marched to the back in search of the woman who had no right to have his stomach in knots like this.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous, probably not since his junior year of high school when he’d been caught by the vice principal making out with a girl behind the bleachers. Such a cliche, and that was the only reason he was embarrassed about the situation, because he was quite proud to be seen with Lucy Reynolds. Even if it meant getting caught by the vice principal, who had given him a swift detention and called his mother to report his indecent behavior.
His mother had scolded him right there in the vice principal’s office, but as soon as they got in the car, she’d asked if he had condoms since she didn’t expect teenagers to be celibate, but demanded that her kids be responsible. Thinking of that day always made him smile, and love his mom just a little bit more.
He wondered what she would think of Skyla. Would she see past her tattoos to the incredibly smart and strong woman she was? Or would she pick up on her loss, and try to heal the ache Skyla seemed to carry in her whiskey-colored eyes with her own love and compassion.
As Blake neared the open door to Skyla’s office, he shook himself mentally, not sure why he cared what his mother would think of her. Skyla wasn’t someone he was dating or even someone he wanted to date. She was probably just weeks or maybe even days away from being locked up for drug trafficking, or worse.
Focus, he chided himself.
He stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching her at her desk, her spine straight, her shoulders pulled back, one hand in her lap while the other clicked on a mouse, scrolling a spreadsheet. He knocked once and she turned to face him. Those whiskey eyes always halted him for the briefest of moments, a jarring reminder of the same eyes that haunted his dreams almost every night.
“Good, I’m glad you’re here.” The tartness in her tone gave Blake pause. If she was upset about Vivian being on her property, it wasn’t fair of her to blame him, considering she hadn’t even given him a chance to explain his side yet. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened.”
Since she remained sitting in her chair, Blake entered and promptly sat on the only other available surface in the room. Her cot. It gave off a light scent of vanilla and strawberries, instantly seducing his thoughts and giving him all sorts of naughty visuals of things he wanted to do to the woman with those bright strawberry red lips.
Focus, he roared to himself.
“I can explain,” he started to say, but she raised her hand to silence him.
“I’m sure you can. In fact, someone like you can offer me a whole list of explanations for that kind of behavior, but the thing is, I’m not interested.”
“What?” Blake asked, a pang going through him as if she’d just rejected him, instead of any number of explanations he’d rehearsed on the drive over here.
“I’ve spent my life surrounded by people who think they can get away with whatever they want simply because I let them, and I’ve decided it stops right now.”
“I know it was out of line, but you have to understand -”
“No, I don’t,” she said, her cheeks flushing to match the rosy color of her lips. Fuck, she’d put on lip gloss. For him? “Men think they can just say and do whatever they want, while the women have to put up with it. But women can -”
Blake smirked. He’d already heard all about how women react differently to other women than they do to men. He didn’t need to hear it again, and especially not from her. He stood abruptly. “Are you going to let me explain or are you just going to -”
His words were cut off when Skyla bolted out of her chair, ate up the distance between them in two quick steps, and planted her mouth on his.
He froze, literally froze, his entire body tightening, every muscle turning to stone. His pulse beat like a drum in the side of his neck. His heart was damn near exploding right out of his chest.
And then he melted. Into her. All the tension he’d carried throughout the day faded right out of him, replaced by her soft curves and sweet lips. His hands went to hips, her back, her arms, the back of her neck. She was so soft, so small, so perfect pressed up against him.
He cupped the back of her neck, his thumb caressing the beautiful butterfly tattoo behind her ear. Her skin was like velvet, and his fingertips gently played with the little hairs that had escaped her ponytail. His other hand rested on her hip, splayed against the slight curve of her body. He’d watched her walk away from him so many times, but he’d never allowed himself to wonder what she would feel like, and this was why.
He took control of the kiss, turning his head to deepen it. He teased her to open for him, but he didn’t surge in right away. Instead, he gently used the tip of his tongue to caress the opening, eliciting the most sensual moan from her that had his cock swelling painfully into the zipper of his pants.
Milking every touch, every sensation of her lips until he was ready to explore his way into her mouth, groaning at her sweetness and warmth of it. Her mouth tasted like cream soda, but the way her tongue joined his in a delicate dance, stoked the fire in his already savage need for her to nearly unbearable heights. He never wanted this to end.
And then just as suddenly as the kiss started, Skyla ended it, pulling back and pushing him away, then taking a giant step back. “You need to leave,” she demanded between breaths.
Sure he hadn’t heard her right, he stood stock still, trying to catch his breath, his mind racing with indecipherable thoughts as to what the hell had just happened. He stared at her, her heart shaped face, high cheekbones tinted with a reddish hue, her lips raw and deliciously pink from their kiss, her sultry brown eyes glazed over with the same passion and desire he was reeling with.
“You have to leave,” she repeated, brooking no argument. “I don’t want you coming back here. And I don’t just mean my office. I can’t have you punching out my customers and then threatening to go federal, no matter what you think of them. Not to mention, I know all about how you sent your new partner to spy on me, and I really don’t appreciate that either. So. Get. Out.”
