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Every Last Drop
When he turnsoff the car, it takes him a second to unbuckle his seatbelt. He’s staring at the front door like it’s the last place he wants to walk through right now. Like it’s one of those rickety haunted houses full of death and secrets.
Isn’t it, though?
“Something you didn’t think of, Ms. Journalist.” He says it lazily. Like he’s in a trance. He’s somewhere far away but talking to me at the same time.
“What?”
His eyes drift my way, and they snap back into the present. “Why I didn’t think you’d forgotten me.”
I suppress a chuckle. I must have struck a nerve with the him being full of himself bit. “Yeah?”
“Because why else would you have given me a heads up? Do all journalists do that? Or…”
I…oh.
Huh.
He smiles smugly as if to say, See? It’s not because I’ma cocky son of a bitch.
But I’m not so easily won over. Hasn’t he learned by now? “Then why did you ask me why I’d given you one?”
“Because even if you know me, it’s not anything you really owed me.”
True.
I give him a rivaling smile. “I don’t know. I think I’ll stand by my original hunch. You know…professionally speaking.”
He’s still wearing his aviators, but I swear I see him roll his eyes.
“Because someone who isn’t full of themselves wouldn’t have been bothered by my conclusion.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. This one wickedly sexy. Challenging. And it makes my body perk in notice. “You don’t like to be wrong, do you?”
I stand my ground, though I’m having a hard time now not staring at his mouth. “I could say the same for you.”
“Makes for interesting…times together.” His words are heavy with suggestion.
Yes, it does. And intensely maddening.
The air between us draws tight, and that same hedonistic energy pulses through.
I stare at his mouth anyway. My sex clenches again as I think about how he was just inside me.
I want it again.
“Scarlett?” he says.
“Yeah?” I breathe, suddenly forgetting about our little rift. Who he is. Who I am. Why we’re interesting together.
“Do you want me to fuck your brains out again?”
All the air rushes out of my lungs. “Yes.”
“Let’s go inside, then.”
I barely rememberthe trip inside.
