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“Before that.”
Never. I hike a shoulder. “I don’t know.”
“And how did that feel, walking out without a plan?” His fingers trail up my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
My chest heaves with ragged breaths. “Scary.”
“And?” He drags his knuckles along my neck.
My throat’s dry, voice a whisper. “Freeing.”
“Getting warmer.” His thumb strums my bottom lip.
Every cell in my body screams, drawing me closer to him. “It was … exhilarating.”
“There she is.” His tongue slips out and wets his lips, like a hungry wolf who’s about to devour his prey. “It’s good to feel like that once in a while. Don’t you agree?”
I shake my head, then I nod. I have no idea what he’s asking anymore. All I can concentrate on is his massive presence, his touch, those velvety lips. He’s scrambling my brain.
Without asking, TJ covers my mouth with his. His lips are so plush and warm, I melt against them. He tugs my hair as his tongue slides out, begging for entrance. I should push him off me. Instead, I open for him, eager and willing. The kiss is slow, full of passion, and I feel it all the way down to my toes. I can say with absolute conviction: I’ve never been kissed like this before.
TJ exudes such confidence and it feels like it’s all transferring to me. Like in this moment, I’ve become someone else. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe I left the old me back in Florida. Either way, I can’t seem to care that I’m kissing a stranger in a parking lot outside a bar called Big Nose Kate’s.
One night. I just want one night.
I want to forget.
I want to be free.
I want to let go.
That’s why, when TJ asks me if I want to go back to his place, I say yes.
Chapter Four
The Past
TJ
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out.” I don’t look in Dave’s direction as I stride toward the door.
“Out where? I didn’t hear you ask permission to leave. Did you hear anything, Arlene?”
Arlene’s nose glides across the coffee table. “Why do you care where he’s going?” she asks, wiping the remnants of the powder from her nostrils.
“Because this is my house, bitch.” Dave pounds his fist into his chest as he stands. Apparently, this gesture is supposed to make men look tough instead of the dumb pricks they really are. Thanks for that one, Denzel.
“This isn’t a house. It’s an apartment.” I shouldn’t have said that, I know. But the guy’s a moron. I can’t help myself.
“Don’t get smart with me, you little shit.” Dave waddles over to where I’m standing. “Go to your room.”
“I said I’m going out.” I yank open the door.
Dave’s hand grips the back of my neck. “And I said go to your room.”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone? Go get high and fuck your crack-whore wife.”
