“Why? Don’t you like it? I thought you wanted this sort of thing. Not in your car though.” She kisses my neck, her lips damp and so fucking soft. Everything about her is soft and curvy.
But I don’t get why she keeps mentioning my car. “Someone could see us.” Not that it matters if anyone sees us or not. I’m not trying to hide her. But I am trying to get her under control.
“So?” Her lips move across my neck and I grunt when I feel a little sting.
Did she just bite me? I think she did.
I rest my hands on her hips to push her away, but I don’t. It’s like I can’t do anything but enjoy this. “Your friends are right there. We should go.”
“I don’t want to go.” She withdraws the slightest bit so our gazes meet. Her pupils are huge and her cheeks are flushed. She looks beautiful and…wasted. “Kiss me, Shep. I’ve been dying for you to kiss me all night.”
Well, drunk Jade is definitely honest Jade and I love that. “Jade…” I touch her cheek, mesmerized by the way she tilts her head back, her bee stung lips slightly parted, her lids lowering as if she’s expecting me to kiss her at this very moment…
Instead I cup her shoulders and set her away from me, needing the distance. Hating that I did that because I’d much rather kiss her. Devour her.
Drown in her.
Her eyes flash open, full of fire. Now there’s the Jade I know. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home.” I grab her by the arm and steer her off the porch. “You’re tired.”
“No I’m not,” she protests, trying to jerk out of my hold but I tighten my fingers.
“You’re drunk,” I say instead as I escort her down the stairs.
“What, Shepard Prescott can’t close the deal?” one of the girls calls after us. “Jade honey, you need to find someone new if you can’t get him to give it up for you. You know nothing’s going to happen in that car!”
Jade presses her lips together, her head averted as she blinks furiously. Everyone on the porch is laughing, both of the girls and Stan, so I hurry my steps, practically dragging her with me.
She’s embarrassed. And I feel like a shit because I’m the one who embarrassed her.
I hit the unlock button on my keyless remote and she hurries to the passenger side, throwing open the door before I can get it for her and climbing inside. She slams the door as I approach, glaring at me through the tinted window, her arms crossed in front of her chest, plumping up her breasts.
Staring at her, I blow out a harsh breath, push the hair away from my face and then round the car, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine so I can get us the hell out of there.
“This is all your fault, you know. You left me there,” she says the moment I pull away from the house. “I got bored, I started hanging out with Em and Em and next thing I knew we were passing flasks around.”
Flasks? Not just one but multiple flasks? “Em and Em? Like the candy?”
“Like Emily and Emma. They’re sweet. They’re like surround sound. You know what I mean? It’s like they talk at once, coming at you from all sides.” She drops her arms and turns sideways in her seat to look at me.
I chance a glance at her, see the hurt still lingering on her face. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in front of them, but I didn’t want things to get out of control.”
She smiles, the sight of it sending surges of pain to my heart. Like there’s a miniscule baby in a diaper sitting on her shoulder zinging a constant stream of arrows right at me. “I thought you liked it when things got out of control.”
I return my attention to the road, clutching the steering wheel hard. “You’re drunk, Jade.” I don’t know if I’m reminding her or myself. Probably both.
“So?”
“So I don’t take advantage of drunk girls.”
She starts laughing. “I find that hard to believe.”
Jesus. This whole having a reputation thing is a real pain in the ass. “Maybe I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
The laughter stops. “Why? Am I that disgusting? A few hours with me and you realize your mistake?”
“I never said that.”
“You may as well have. I should be happy about this turn of events, right? I hate you. I don’t want you.” She dips her head, I see all of that gorgeous red hair fall forward out of the corner of my eye, obscuring her face. “I guess you don’t want me either.”
Without thought I hit the brakes hard and pull the car over to the curb, my tires squealing. She lifts her head, her wide gaze meeting mine, her lips parting to come up with some quick protest or quip, I’m sure, but I cut her off.
“You really think I don’t want you?”
She gapes at me, appearing at a complete loss for words. A miracle moment I should note.
“Really?” I goad, wanting to hear her answer so I can prove her wrong.
So fucking wrong.
I stare at Shep, shocked by the incredulous anger in his thunderous features. God, he looks good right now. Like, extra good, all angry and sexy and intense. His hair is a mess from running his fingers through it—and it’s super soft, I know this because I touched his hair, sunk my fingers in all that incredible softness. Rubbed myself all over him like a cat in heat, kissed his delicious neck.
Who knew a neck could be so delicious? And smell so good? Who knew that delicious neck could belong to someone like Shep? A guy I supposedly despise.
“I—I don’t know w-what to th-think,” I stutter, pressing my lips together and feeling stupid. He’s making me so freaking nervous. The air in the car is charged, filled with electricity that seems to bounce between us and I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin when he touches me, his fingers drifting across my knee and making me shiver.
“Then you’re drunker than I thought because I want you so fucking much it’s killing me,” he murmurs, his voice low and so incredibly deep I feel it between my legs where I’m throbbing.
For him.
“But I’m not going to do anything to you tonight,” he continues, crashing all my hopes and dreams with a few choice words. “You won’t remember it and that would be a fucking shame. Or worse, tomorrow you’ll regret it, tell me you were drunk and you would’ve never let me touch you or kiss you or fuck you. So screw all that. I want you just as into this as I am. Nothing less.”
His little speech lights up everything inside me, making me ache. I ache so bad for him, I don’t remember ever feeling like this for anyone else. No other guy. No one.
He wants me just as into this as he is. What does that mean? That he’s into me? That he likes and wants…me? After everything I’ve said and done? I told him I hated him only minutes ago. He should be beyond frustrated with my immature antics.
I may as well keep it up though, right? Stay consistent?
“So you won’t even kiss me?” I ask, my voice small, my humiliation knowing no bounds. It’s like the words fall from my lips without thought. No way would I ever say something like this to him sober. I totally blame the vodka.
He sends me a heated look, one that completely steals my breath. “You want me to kiss you?”