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I, myself, have a certain appetite for reducing a woman to an artful kind of mess.
My gaze travels down her body, spurred on by primal curiosity. The years have been kind to my little Shy Girl, filling out soft curves in all the right places. Even in simple jeans and a worn leather jacket that I’m pretty sure was handed down from her dad, she looks good enough to eat.
Fuck, it’s been years since I’ve seen her.
She was fifteen back then, just a year younger than I was when my own father requested that I go and live with him in New York. I was always taller than her when we were kids, but now, eleven years later, I stand at a healthy six-three. Whenwe’re face to face once again, I know that I’ll tower over her five-foot-four-ish frame.
A sudden, unbidden thought flashes through my mind as I watch her approach the coffee house. A forbidden musing on how easy it would be to pick her up, throw her around a bit maybe. She looks like a fragile little thing I’d very much enjoy toying with. I wonder what it’d be like to devour her…
We wrestled sometimes as kids. Or rather, I’d chase her and pin her down. She always claimed she hated our silly game, but I knew differently. I could see the thrill in her eyes every time. Perhaps if I hadn’t moved away, if we’d carried on playing for a couple more years, I might have done more to feed my addiction, seeing that look on her flushed face. I’ve never seen its allure matched in any woman I’ve pinned down since.
I shake my head and force a frustrated exhale through my nose. I left that messy confusion behind me a long time ago.
Shiloh hesitates at the door to the coffee house, her shoulders rising and falling as if she’s taking her own deep breath. I allow myself a small smirk.
Good. I hope she’s nervous. It was always fun to watch my Shy Girl stumble.
Unable to resist any longer, I slip out of my car and cross the street, timing my arrival so I reach the door just as she’s pulling it open. She nearly jumps out of her skin as my fingers close around the bar above hers. I try and fail to not relish her stunned little yelp.
“You’re late,” I say by way of greeting, keeping my tone clipped and distant. She doesn’t need to know I was craving this moment the entire two and a half hours it took me to drive here.
Her sharp, ice-blue eyes narrow. “I was late by like, two minutes,” she snaps. “And for the record, it’s nice to see you too, Dom.”
I don’t respond, simply holding the door open with an expression of exaggerated expectation, as if I’m not sure she knows that these things were originally invented for walking through. She rolls her eyes and stalks inside with a loud scoff, making her way to a vacant table in the corner of the almost-empty establishment.
And just like that, I’m reliving my old favorite hobby.Pissing her the fuck off.
An awkward silence settles over us both as we sit. I lean back in my chair, adopting an air of bored indifference while I covertly study her. Shiloh fidgets with the zipper on her jacket for a full minute before finally shrugging it off and signaling the waitress for two cups of shitty coffee. Her uncomfortable squirming and avoidance of eye contact give me ample opportunity to rake my gaze over her T-shirt clad chest.
“So, um…how’s New York?” she finally stutters, the feeble attempt at small talk grating on my nerves already.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries.” I dismiss the question with a swipe of my hand through the air. I haven’t bothered to take off my own thick overcoat, or my black leather gloves–a fact that seems to snare Shiloh’s attention. “I’m not here for a cozy catch up.”
Her plump lips press together into a thin line that has me immediately missing their fullness. Eventually she nods, taking another deep breath before starting again. “Right. Well, about the Halloween Ball–”
“I didn’t come to talk about that either,” I interrupt, taking a perverse kind of pleasure in watching her hopeful expression dissipate, and then shift to barely concealed rage.
“Then why did you come, huh?” she blurts out. “Why drive all this way just to tell me to forget about it?Again?” The way she spits at me through her teeth is fucking delicious.
I shrug, letting my own lips curve slightly into a mocking smirk. “The way you begged me over the phone made it sound like the town was crumbling down around your ears. I figured I would pass through and see for myself. Perhaps Blackwood Enterprises is interested in bulldozing the whole thing and building a bunch of warehouses. You know…something moreuseful.”
“I did not beg,”she says incredulously, missing the rest of my insult to her pitiful little forever-autumn town.
“Oh, Shy Girl, Ibegto differ.” I chuckle, unable to stop myself as that familiar enraged flush creeps up her cheeks.
Oh yeah, this was worth the drive.
She glares at me. “This isn’t a joke, Dom. The school really needs–”
“The school’s financial circumstances are not my concern,” I cut her off again, certain if I do it one more time, her head might actually explode. “Nor are your pathetic, small town traditions.”
“They are not pathetic,” Shiloh argues, leaning forward with a sudden furious intensity that almost catches me off guard. “The Halloween Ball has been a part of Avalon’s community calendar for more than a hundred years. It’s a celebration of our collective history and something that brings everyone together. And my studentsneedit as much as everyone else loves it.” She takes in a long, hefty breath, and then opens her mouth to say more.
I hold up a hand. “Really? Do you havemoreto add to this heartfelt spiel?”
More daggers come from her pretty blue eyes. “Seriously, Dom, evenyouhave to admit that everyone’s lot in life is propped up on the quality of their education. That was your whole fucking shtick, wasn’t it? Before youescaped.” She punctuates the end of her tirade with air quotes, throwing in myface the memory of how I used to rant to our parents about our shitty high school and its shitty facilities.
Hmm.It seems as though nothing ever really changes.
