You wanted me. I think you still want me.

His lips part to speak, but he says nothing. That lost look is back in his eyes, and that’s the only thing he gives me before he disappears through the crowd and walks out the door.

I fall back against the booth, clutching my Kindle to my chest.

Reed

THREE DAYS.

Three fucking days, and I still can’t shake that damn kiss.

It doesn’t help that it’s rained every day since Sunday, shutting down the job site and the distraction I desperately need. Work is a really good thing to keep your mind busy, but I don’t have it. I have my cock instead, which is reminding me every time I think I’m over that fucking mouth of hers how wrong I am. I’ve ignored it. I’m not jerking off to a goddamn kiss. Her sexy little body and the image of it tied to my bed while I pound into her, that I have jerked off to. But not that kiss.

I won’t break over something I didn’t even want.

My hand isn’t on my cock because she gave me a wild unlike I’ve ever had.

I’m not stroking myself because she took my mouth and fucking owned it like it never even belonged to me.

And I’m definitely not moaning her name because I liked that kiss.

No, that’s not what’s happening. Not even close.

I fucking loved that kiss. Loved. It.

Me, a guy who goes out of his way to avoid kissing the women he brings home because I don’t give a damn about anything but sex, is ruined from thirty seconds of one chick’s mouth. That perfect fucking mouth. Full, soft lips, the bottom slightly bigger than the top. That wicked little tongue and the way it sought after mine.

She was right. I could’ve pushed her off. I could’ve gotten the hell out of there before completely screwing myself. But I didn’t. I wanted her, and that mouth, and I fucking took it. Or she took mine. Or we both just took what we wanted and didn’t give a damn about the other person because that’s how it felt.

I was greedy and envious of every other man who tasted that mouth before me.

And she was . . . fuck, she was vulgar. Grinding against me, moaning around my lips. Biting and sucking and owning.

Motherfucker. That mouth.

My cock goes limp in my hand the second my thoughts shift to Molly. She had to walk into that fucking bar. It’s like the bitch knew I’d be in there, and she couldn’t wait to shove that fucking invitation in my face. I gave her everything. Every-fucking-thing. I showed her how fucking serious I was about us before she left. Maybe I was a little desperate. But I would’ve waited for her. I could’ve handled four years. I was fucking handling it.

So why . . . fuck, why wasn’t I enough?

The cell phone ringing down the hall pulls me out of bed. I toss the covers aside and stretch my back, flexing my right hand so it doesn’t hold the grip I’ve had all morning. I actually feel the loss of fluids as I toss the handful of tissues into the trash bin and attempt to sprint down the hallway in the direction of my ringtone. My body fatigues quickly, slowing my movements.

Shit. I need some electrolytes.

I grab the phone just before it goes to voicemail and hold it between my shoulder and ear.

“Hey, Mia,” I answer before taking a swig of the Gatorade I pull out of the fridge.

“Hey, you’re off today, right? ‘Cause of the rain?”

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Yeah, why? What’s up?”

“Is he comin’? Can I talk to him?”

I smile at Nolan’s voice.

“Can I pweaaase?”

“Nolan, shh, wait a minute.” Mia mumbles something else away from the phone, then blows out an exhaustive breath. “I’m going to ask you because it’s the polite thing to do, but you’re coming. I’m not telling him anything different.”

“What am I coming to?”

“Sal’s. Nolan wants pizza for lunch and he’ll only eat it from there now. He says the crust tastes better or something.”

I smile. Kid has taste. “He’s right. Can’t argue with that. Plus their slices are huge. So, you really get more for your money.”

“Mommy, tell Uncle Weed about my hat!”

“Nolan, go grab your brother’s binky. It’s in his crib,” Mia directs away from the phone. “Sorry,” she says in my ear.

“He sounds excited.”

“You have no idea. He’s been talking about you non-stop since Saturday. Now he wants to go out and buy his own tool belt so he doesn’t have to use yours when you come over.”

“Really? That’s awesome. I thought maybe he was getting bored holding my tools for me. He couldn’t really help out with the digging for the posts. I was worried he’d fall in a hole or something.” I take another drink. “I’m glad he had a good time.”

“Reed, it’s all he’s talked about. Seriously. You know Nolan. He obsesses over things.” She laughs quietly. “Just wait until you see him . . . when you come to lunch, ‘cause you’re coming. He’ll be so disappointed if you don’t.”

I stick the Gatorade back in the fridge. “What time do you want to meet? I need to take a shower first.”

A scalding hot shower. One to hopefully burn away the shame of the past three days.

“That’s fine. I gotta feed Chase before we leave anyway. Wanna meet in like forty-five minutes?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Great. Nolan, Uncle Reed is coming!” she yells away from the phone.