Текст книги "Dirty Lies"

Автор книги: Emma Hart

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

“Getting another tattoo is not the way to deal with this situation,” Chelsey grumbles, flicking through a magazine in the corner of the room.

The needle buzzes as Jay inks across my upper arm, coloring my latest addition in a shade of bright pink. He snorts quietly, more a cough than anything, and wipes my arm. I glance at him, bleached-blond short hair, tattoos covering every inch of his exposed skin, and a stretching plug in his ear. Behind him, the walls of his tattoo room are covered in designs from the cute to the elaborate yet terrifying you’ll-be-here-all-week tattoos. Some photos are immediately above his desk, and each of these features one of his favorites. I’m up there with my sleeve, the colors standing out from the mostly black-and-white creations.

“It doesn’t count if it’s just coloring in,” I argue. “The tattoo has already been done. It can’t all be done at once. Besides, flowers need color.”

“And you, my friend, need psychiatric help.” She shuts the magazine with a sigh as Jay chuckles. “Girl, sticking a needle into yourself over and over is not the way to deal with your issues.”

“It’s worked pretty well for her so far,” Jay offers, still inking me.

“Yes, Mr. Tattoo Man, thank you,” she sighs again. “Jessie, seriously. You can’t just run here whenever you have something you need to deal with. You can’t hide behind a needle forever.”

“Chels, you’re implying I have issues I need to work through. I don’t, not right now. This appointment was booked when I finished the outline, okay?” Or, you know, I called this morning on the off chance my favorite tattooist would have a cancelation.

“Of course.” Pages swish as she flicks through the magazine I’ve now determined to be Vogue. “Nothing to do with your date that wasn’t a date last night.”

“Date that wasn’t a date?” Jay questions. “Why didn’t you mention this? I’d have fit you in earlier.”

“Ha!” Chelsey slams the magazine against her legs. “I knew you were lying with that prebooked appointment shit!”

I glare at her. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell Jay. “It wasn’t a date.”

No matter how much it felt like one. Or that I can still feel Aidan’s lips pressing against mine, his tongue tracing my lower lip, his fingers burning into the skin at the back of my neck or twining themselves into my hair.

Seriously.

It wasn’t a date.

I don’t care what anyone—or I—say. It. Wasn’t. A. Date. It couldn’t have been further from one.

But if this was real and that was our first date, I’d probably be in love with him already.

It wasn’t, though, so I’m not.

“Jessie, you both bailed on dinner and gave the photographers the slip, then you hung out in his truck for like three hours.” Chels sighs. “That’s a date, girl. A real date.”

It’s a good thing I never mentioned the making out. “No. It’s the avoidance of a real date. That’s totally different.”

“No.”

“Leave it alone, Chels!” I snap. “Stop trying to convince me it was a real date. It wasn’t. I can’t stand him and you know it. It’s a real date when I actually want to be within ten feet of him. Hell, it’s a real date when I say it’s a real date.”

“I’m with her.”

I turn my head at the sound of Aidan’s voice cutting through the quiet buzz of the tattoo needle. “Um, hi?”

“Hey.” Aidan’s mouth curves into a grin. “Your dad said you were here. I tried to call . . .”

“Is this your date that wasn’t a date?” Jay asks, glancing up momentarily.

“Shut up,” I hiss before turning back to Aidan. “What’s up?”

“There are some things a guy just can’t say around his fake girlfriend’s friends.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it. More like you don’t want to look like a giant butthead when you need me all doe-eyed and hanging on your arm for some event.”

“Well, when you put it that way . . .”

“Oh my God,” Chelsey mutters, then looks at him. “It is, isn’t it? You’re going to ask her to be your bitch for an evening again.”

“Oh yeah. I even got her a collar and leash. Although it probably won’t be used in the traditional way.” He grins widely when her jaw drops.

“All right, all right, you two,” I interrupt, ignoring the flaming of my cheeks. “You,” I point at Aidan with my free arm. “Outside. Use that leash and tie yourself to a fire hydrant or something. I’m almost done. And you,” I turn to my best friend, “I love you, but I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you think you do. What you’re doing is making a giant fool of yourself.” She sniffs and gets up. “I’ll call you later when there isn’t a big man with abs and tattoos standing in front of you making your brain go gaga.”

She flounces out of the room, swinging the door shut behind her so harshly it almost hits Aidan in the face.

“Wow. And I thought you had a temper,” he remarks with a chuckle.

Jay laughs behind me, killing the tattoo gun and wiping across my arm. “They both have tempers. Jessie just sticks a needle in her skin instead of slamming doors the way Chelsey does.”

“She’s thrown a pot of ink at you before,” I remind him as he wraps my arm in plastic wrap.

“Oh yeah. You should reconsider bringing her in when you get work done.”

“I’m starting to agree with you,” I muse, stretching my arm and getting the blood flowing back through it. My skin tingles and I glance up at Aidan. “What?”

“Can I see?” He nods toward my arm.

“Didn’t I tell you to go to leash yourself to a fire hydrant?”

“The day I do something a woman tells me to will be the day I fall in love, sunshine.” He smirks. “Especially when tying is involved. Although, I will concede that if you and bed were used in the place of me and fire hydrant, I’d be tempted to do as I’m told.”

“The day I tell you to do that, you have my full permission to call the local hospital and commit me for psychiatric evaluation.” I hold my arm out for him, ignoring the sizzle that trails across my skin when he gently takes my arm in his hand and studies the coloring.

“This is amazing,” he says softly after a long moment. His thumb trails across the leaf coming down from my snapdragon, slowly, much more intimately than it should. “Have you done it all?” he directs the question to Jay.

“Yep. Did her first on her eighteenth birthday and I’m allowed to shoot her if she goes anywhere else.”

“With a Nerf gun, Jay.” I smile.

He looks at me, blond eyebrows rising, lips curving. “That’s what you think, darlin’.”

“Sure it is.” My smile widens as I follow him out of the room and into the reception area with Aidan on my heels. “Here.” I hand Jay my card over the counter and scribble on the receipt when he hands it to me. “I’ll call you when I’m ready for another.”

“See you in two weeks.”

“Cocky bastard.” I laugh, opening the door to the tattoo parlor and scooting through it.

Aidan grabs the door behind me and throws a wave over his shoulder to Jay as he follows me out onto the sidewalk. “I think he has a crush on you.”

I cough through my snort and glance at him. “Why the hell would you think that?”

He shrugs. “I’m a guy. I can just tell.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Why would you suggest such a dumb thing if you aren’t?”

Aidan

“I’m not suggesting. I’m stating. There’s a huge difference.” I quirk an eyebrow down at her.

Her pearly pink lips twitch to one side. “Okay. If you say so.”

“I do.”

“I gotta admit, I’m slightly freaked out by the prospect of my cousin crushing on me, but whatever.”

I stop. “He’s your what?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention that before? Jay’s my cousin.” Jessie stops and twirls, a sweetly evil smile spreading across her face and making her eyes dance with laughter. “Why else do you think my dad doesn’t grumble at all my tattoos? I’m supporting a family business. Plus I get a discount.”

I stare at her, still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She looks so fucking amused, but I feel like a total dick. “I’m not jealous.”

“Mhmm,” she replies, shoulders trembling with giggles. “You really look not jealous right now.”

“Why would I be jealous?” I walk again, and she walks beside me when I draw level with her.

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

“I can make a suggestion when I think something is right.”

“I thought you were stating it?”

“Shhh.” I nudge her with my elbow, pushing her to the side when I see the gate to the park at the end of the street.

She laughs, throwing her head back, and shoves me straight back. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Apparently I should learn it,” I reply, cutting my eyes to her.

She sighs happily and tucks some hair behind her ear. We dart across the road when there’s a lull in the traffic, and she bumps the gate open. “You should. It would make this a whole lot easier if we were on the same page.”

“You know, it’s kind of tempting to smack your ass when you’re being a bitch to me.”

“Oh dear.” Jessie turns, walking backward. “If I wanted to be a bitch, I’d let you seduce me, then right at the last minute, be all, ‘Fuck no!’ and run away. Or I’d just see it through and leave you in the middle of the night without so much as a word or reassurance that the bill for the room had been taken care of.”

Her words carry the weight of a brick shithouse. As they always do. Jessie Law doesn’t sugarcoat anything she can say straight to your face. No word-mincing, no sweetness—just blunt rawness.

And shit, I respect the hell out of her for that.

I take a deep breath and look at her—at the vulnerability raging behind the anger in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

“No,” she says quickly. “You don’t need to be sorry. You shouldn’t apologize for what you’re used to doing. And least of all to me.”

“You’re right, but I can apologize for how that made you feel.” I step toward her, and she tilts her head back, her eyes focusing on mine. She narrows her eyes, anger sparking in them, and I brush my thumb along the gentle curve of her jaw. “I am sorry,” I whisper. “There’s no excuse for making you feel like you’re worthless.”

Her lips part as she takes a deep breath, and she tilts her face toward mine. Slowly, her hand comes between us, her fingertips brushing my chest first before she flattens her whole palm against me. “It doesn’t matter,” she replies, just as quietly. “I’m not asking you to care about me or how you make me feel, Aidan, just letting you know that maybe, in the future, you should not be such a giant asshole.”

She pushes at me, but I hook my arm around her waist and bring her body flush with mine. “I never said I was caring, sunshine,” I murmur into her ear, sliding my hand around the back of her neck from her jaw. “I was recognizing what I did. Two totally different things. Don’t confuse it.”

“Your words completely contradict your apology,” she grinds out, fingers curving and grasping my shirt. “Recognizing would be, ‘Hey, I made you feel like shit. That was wrong.’ Not a gentle grasp of the chin and a softly murmured apology said with conviction.”

“Then I take back the apology.”

“You can try, but it’ll still always have been your default response to learning that you made me feel like shit. So you care, just a little. Even if I don’t want you to or don’t think you do.”

“I’m really tempted to kiss you and shut you the hell up right now.”

“Of course you are. You’re wrong. Men hate being wrong.”

I drop my mouth onto hers, and it’s still slightly parted from speaking. I flick my tongue out against her lower lip, sweeping it teasingly along the soft curve, and she grasps my shirt tighter. Leaning into me, her breath hitches when I pause, just hovering my lips above hers.

Fuck.

I want to kiss her until there isn’t a single breath left in her body.

The realization is a freshly pitched softball, sudden and powerful. I want to kiss her—and not just because she’s an awesome kisser. Not because I want to turn her on and get her on her back beneath me.

I want to kiss her just because I want to. Because I want my hands in her hair and my shirt twisted in her fingers, and, damn it all, I want my heart to fucking pound right alongside hers. I want to feel my body tremble with adrenaline and anticipation as she grazes her teeth along my lip. I want to feel the tingle of desperation as she moves closer and I hold her tighter and we lose ourselves in the kiss.

I want to kiss her because I want to remember the distinctly sweet yet savage feeling of being lost in Jessie Law.

So I kiss her.

God, I fucking kiss her.

Screw the pretense and the falseness—for this second, this one, long, stomach-twisting and mind-numbing moment, I kiss the shit out her. I kiss her like I’ve wanted to ever since I walked into that damn tattoo parlor earlier and saw her sitting, unflinching, as color was inked onto her perfect skin.

And it’s just that goddamn simple.

Jessie pulls away. Her breath is long and deep, and her fingers are shaking where they’re resting on my waist. “What . . .” she pauses, clearing her throat, and takes another deep breath. “What did you need me for?”

Oh yeah, that. “Next week. There’s a new waterpark opening in Florida, down by Fort Lauderdale. Whoever was opening it before got sick and had to drop out, so we were called since we’re technically on vacation.”

“And you need a date.”

I tilt my head to the side. “It’s not required. But we get to use the park exclusively the day before the opening for the inconvenience.” My lips tug into a small smile. “So I figured I’d see if you want to come.”

“Like swimming as compensation for the inconvenience of being your fake girlfriend?”

“I guess. Although you weren’t complaining just then.”

“Hush.” She presses a finger against my mouth. “I was coerced into that. You’re good at that.”

“Coercing you? Well, damn. If that’s all it takes . . .” I slide my hand down her back and cup her ass cheek. “Can I try a little harder?”

She throws her head back and laughs, and it’s so infectious that I can’t keep my own peals of laughter from erupting. I drop my head, pressing my face into her exposed neck. Both of us are shaking with laughter, but her pulse is thrumming beneath my lips. My laughter dies, and I thin my lips.

Her giggles peter out as the gentle beat speeds up.

“Ads,” she whispers, hooking her fingers in my belt loop. “You can stop trying now.”

I tilt my head up so my mouth is by her ear. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then we should definitely not be in a public park.”

I smile. “Are you admitting I affect you?”

“Are you admitting you care a little?”

“Do you have to answer a question with a question?”

“Do you?”

“Depends on the question.” I straighten and slowly drop my hand down her body to her hip. “And it doesn’t seem like either of us are gonna get the answers we want right now.”

“I’ll answer when you do.” Jessie’s voice is hesitant. “But, to the first question, about the waterpark . . . If I’m not working, I’ll come.”

“You won’t be working. I’m sure I can figure something out with Miss Penelope.”

Her mouth twists to the side. “I can’t just blow off shifts. We don’t all make money being photographed making out with a girl in the park.”

Instantly, my head jerks around, searching for the photographer.

“Pretty sure they’re long gone.” She steps back, finally putting some distance between us. “But I saw them. They followed us from the tattoo studio. Didn’t you notice?”

I shake my head. “No,” I say honestly. “I can’t say I was paying attention.”

And I wasn’t. I don’t know when the hell I stopped being aware of my surroundings—but I’d bet anything it’s when she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk with that sassy grin on her face. That’s when her damn red hair and bright eyes and enticing smile drew me so far into her that everything else became a blur.

She blinks harshly and looks away. “Well. You can call your manager and let him know your work for the day is done.”

“Wait.” I reach out and grab her hand, stopping her from walking away. “I wasn’t done.”

“What if I was?”

“Mom wants you to come for dinner.” Staring at this red-haired vixen worming her way into my life, the partial lie falls easily from my lips. Mom does, I’m sure—thankfully, she’s always game for another mouth to feed. “Tonight. She’s making beef stew. With dumplings. Everyone will be there.”

Slowly, Jessie looks at me from the corner of her eyes. “For dinner? Isn’t that a little too real for you, Aidan Burke?”

I hold my free hand out to the side. “I don’t make the rules, baby.”

“You don’t follow them either.”

“So come break them with me.”

She turns, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her eyes are still narrowed, even if their dark blue hue has softened. “That sounds like a real dangerous proposition.”

I slide my fingers between hers and step forward, looking down at her—her long, curved eyelashes, her lips with slightly smudged lipstick, her bright red bangs falling across her forehead. “I don’t ever remember saying spending time with me would be anything but.”

“Touché,” she breathes, glancing down at our hands then back up at me. “You’re not the only one dangerous to be around, you know.”

“A sweet, innocent thing like you? Nah. You’re about as dangerous as a gummy bear.”

Her lips curve, oh so slowly, and she brings a thumb up and runs it along her bottom lip, a devious glint in her eye. “Every innocent shell contains a wild soul just screaming to get out.”

“Yeah? I think yours is trying to escape, sunshine.”

“Oh, she is. And wildness loves danger.” She steps closer to me, looking up and into my eyes. Amusement and confidence and resolution dance in her gaze, a warning and a promise to whoever happens to catch it. To me. “So, Aidan Burke, if you think you can handle my wildness, I can sure as hell handle your danger.”

“It isn’t handling it you should be worried about. It’s fearing it.”

“Confident words from a confident man. Did you know that confidence is overrated in many circles?”

“What does that mean?”

Her smile turns teasing as quickly as I blink, and there’s nothing but laughter in her eyes now. “It means you should man up and take me for dinner before the photographer in the bush thirty feet away thinks we’re setting up for a public porno movie.”

“Are we?”

She pinches my forearm, and I hiss a “Fuck!”

“In around ten hours, I’m gonna do that again. It won’t hurt and the answer will be different. I’ll let you figure out on your own what my answer is right now.”

“Are you giving me permission to dream about fucking you, Jessie? Because I’ve been doing that for years.” I raise an eyebrow and tug her through the gate and toward the woods that lead to my house.

“Clearly, it makes no difference. You’re going to do it anyway.”

“Excellent. So if you wake up tomorrow and you have scratches on your back, it’s because I dream-fucked you against a tree, okay?”

“How the hell would I get scratches from a dream-fuck?”

“Hey.” I hold my hands up and walk backward. “I come in my sleep. Anything is possible.”

Her lips twitch. “You’re gross.”

“Honest, baby. I’m a twenty-four-year-old guy. I can’t help it if my default honest happens to be gross.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be your sixteen-year-old default?”

I drop my head forward and sigh, then meet her eyes. “I can’t help it if my cock never grew up.”

She raises her eyebrows. “I think we should probably get to dinner before you make a total ass of yourself.”

“I think you’re probably right.”

Unfortunately, making an ass out of myself happened long before we got back to my house. It happened right about the time I decided to invite her to dinner tonight—because I forgot that my grandfather was coming for dinner.

And if there’s one dinner you don’t want your fake girlfriend at, it’s one with your pops. A man who is currently sitting in the corner regaling Mila with tales of his time in the navy.

That’s right. A two-year-old.

“Pops, I don’t think she’s listening,” Conner mutters, looking at his daughter’s confused face.

“Of course she’s listenin’, boy! She just doesn’t understand,” Pops rasps in response.

“So why are you wastin’ your time?” Tate asks, smirking.

“Because the girl’s listenin’, and that’s a damn sight more than you little swines do!” he cackles, bouncing Mila on his knee.

“He’s crazy,” Kye and I mutter in unison.

“Whoa.” Jessie looks from Pops to us. “That speaking at once thing is creepy. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Can’t help it,” Kye replies. “One of those things.”

“No, periods are ‘one of those things.’ That is terrifying.”

“That ain’t terrifying!” Pops pipes up, finally setting Mila on the floor. She runs over to the dolls in the corner and busies herself fixing their dresses as Pops sits up straighter, using his cane to help him. “When they were eight, I sent ’em out to pick my tomatoes from the greenhouse. Now, I knew how many there were back there.” His half-moon glasses slip down his nose and he pauses to push them back into place. “Counted ’em myself. These two swines came out with half a bucketful and told me they were dead. Denied eatin’ ’em, and every word they said was in sync. It was like having a conversation with a drunk Siri.”

Jessie laughs into her hand, and even Sofie and Ella are snorting into their drinks.

“I remember that!” Tate nods, looking at us. “Yeah, that was fuckin’ scary.”

“Dollar!” Mila demands immediately, walking over with her hand out. She takes the bill from Tate and shoves it in the pocket of her shorts. “Tankoo.”

“How do you even know who Siri is?” I ask Pops.

“I got one of those eyeball phones.” He pulls it out of his shirt pocket. “See?”

“You mean an iPhone, Pops,” Kye says.

“That’s what I said. An eyeball phone.” Pops’s eyes spark with humor. The kind that says he’s screwing with us and he knows it.

Jessie looks down, her smile covered by her hand. Or so she thinks—I can see the edges of her lips just curved above her fingers. And there’s the hint of a dimple. It’s the smallest indent on her cheek, one I’ve never noticed before. She glances at me and moves her hand as soon as she notices me looking at it, and I drag my gaze up to hers. Her eye twitches in the corner, and my lips curl as I watch the fight in her eyes—should she show me annoyance or amusement?

Amusement wins out, and her eyes glitter with her silent laughter.

“Aidan! Have eye-sex with your girlfriend on your own time!” Pops yells, rapping his cane on the floor. “I don’t wanna see it!”

“Oh, Dad.” Mom comes into the room, wiping her hands on a dish cloth. “Phil’s ready to drive you home.”

“And I promised Jessie I’d show her my drums,” I say, standing. “So, I’ll see you soon, Pops.”

“I bet you did,” Kye sniggers.

I punch him. “At least someone wants to see mine.”

“Okay,” Jessie stands. “As much as I would love to see your drums, Aidan, I’m gonna pass. I have work early tomorrow, so I’m going to call it a night.” She turns to Mom. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Burke. It was wonderful.”

Mom embraces her. “You’re very welcome, dear. Come back anytime.” The last sentence is said with a hard look thrown to me.

Jesus.

“I’ll drive you home,” I offer.

“No, it’s okay. It’s a nice night. I’ll walk.” She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We’ll take you,” Sofie says, standing. “It’s Mila’s bedtime and your place is on the way.”

Jessie hesitates. “Sure.”

I bite my tongue so I don’t make some asshole comment. No doubt Mom would chew my ass out for it, so what I say is, “I’ll see you out.”

Mila kisses everyone, lingering for an extra-long hug with Pops, and grabs Bunna before holding her arms up for Conner to pick her up. He swoops her up easily, grabbing the Doc McStuffins bag by the door full of her things. Sofie follows them out the door, and I hold it open for Jessie as she waves good-bye to everyone.

I grab her hand on the porch while Conner and Sofie strap Mila into her seat. “I would have taken you home.”

“I know. But like Sofie said, it’s on the way to her place.” She looks away. “And I think we’ve spent more than enough time together today, don’t you?”

“Is that the real reason you refuse to let me take you home? Because you think we’ve spent too much time together?”

She snatches her hand away. “I don’t think we have. I know we have. Now I’m going to go home, get into bed, and go to work tomorrow, and I’m not going to talk to you for a whole twenty-four hours. Good-bye, Aidan.” She turns, flouncing down the steps and toward Conner’s truck.

The door opens behind me. “You know,” Pops says, shuffling out and stopping beside me. “Every lie begins with truth. Every legend was borne of reality. Think about that before you let her get in the car with your brother.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” He turns to me, his dark blue eyes shining with a wisdom I can only hope to have one day. I look at Jessie getting into Conner’s truck but don’t reply, and he continues, “It means you weren’t raised to sit on your backside while the truth behind your lie gets into a truck that isn’t yours and drives away.”

“You’re crazy, old man. I’m calling the assisted-living center for you.” I turn away, but he whips his cane up in front of me, stopping me.

“Call me crazy, but if you let that girl leave right now then you’re the crazy one, son.” His eyes bore into mine. “Take the advice of an old man. Your relationship ain’t as fake as you think it is. Go after her. Give the cameras something to snap, at the very least.”

“Fuck the cameras,” I mutter, looking back around as Conner opens his truck door. He glances back at me, eyebrows raised, and I say another “fuck” under my breath. Pops laughs as I turn and run across the front yard to the drive, slamming my hand on the back door. I yank it open and unbuckle Jessie’s seat belt.

“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieks, grabbing the belt back again.

“Takin’ you home.” I slide her legs around and, grabbing her waist, pull her out of the truck and set her on the ground in front of me. “Now, you comin’ quietly or do I have to drag you there?”

“You can kiss my sweet ass if you think I’m going anywhere quietly!”

“Have it your way, sunshine.” I hoist her up over my shoulder. She screams and kicks her legs as I carry her across the drive.

“Ads, what are you doing?” Sofie asks, following us.

“You. Truck.” Conner turns her and pushes her back around the truck. “Please.”

I yank open the truck door and deposit Jessie inside. Her hair is messy, and her cheeks are almost as red as her hair. I can practically feel the anger emanating from her as I slam the door and walk around to the driver’s side.

“You’re a raging fucking asshole, Aidan Burke.”

“So they tell me, baby.” I get in and jam my key into the ignition, twisting harshly, and the engine roars to life.

“Seriously!” She slams her hand against the dashboard. “Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing me and manhandling me into your truck for whatever the fuck reason you have? That is not an okay way to treat me, no matter who you are!”

“Could I drive in peace? Your bitchin’ is kind of distracting.”

“My bitching? Oh my God!” She drops back in the seat with a huge huff. “That’s it. We—this charade—it’s done. Over. You can even tell the media I’m dying a thousand deaths over our breakup. I don’t care. I’m not dealin’ with your pseudo-hero asshole complex for another damn day!”

I swerve the truck into a dimly lit turnout and kill the engine. What is it with this chick pissing me off when I’m driving? “One day you’re gonna piss me off so much I’m gonna accidentally swerve off a fuckin’ cliff,” I grind out. “Now that I’ve safely stopped, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

“What? So you can just kiss me to shut me up again? I don’t want to waste my breath.”

“Excellent choice. Let’s just skip straight to the kissing.”

“I’d rather cut off my tongue with a bread knife than kiss you for one more second.”

I unbuckle her seat belt for the second time tonight and clutch her hair, turning her face—including her red-hot, blazing gaze—toward mine. “Tough shit.” I lean over and bring my mouth down onto hers harshly.

She grasps my collar with one hand, and with the other, she shoves me away from her.

I’ve barely opened my mouth before she’s climbed over the center console and is straddling me. She’s closed the distance between our mouths before I’ve had a chance to think. Her fingers slide up my body and into my hair and her kiss tastes like anger and hatred and everything so wrong it’s verging on right.

Her body is against mine and I reach down the side of my seat, pulling the lever to lay my seat back as blood pumps through my body and ends up in my cock. Jessie pushes her hips into mine, making me harder, and nips at my bottom lip.

I slap my palm against her ass, squeezing it right after. She gasps into my mouth, the sound as sweet as the tiny moan that escapes her throat when I tug lightly on her hair. If only her fucking shorts were a skirt—I’d have my fingers beneath them and inside her before she could touch her tongue to mine. If only she was in a dress, never mind my fingers, I’d have my cock buried inside her and I’d be fucking the fight right out of her.

I’d be fucking her until the only shout coming from her would be my name.

But now, the kiss is long, deep, angry. It’s hard and forceful and unrelenting, her hips almost grinding against mine as I can’t help but palm her tight ass. Can’t help but pull her farther into me as our tongues battle and my heart pounds ferociously against my ribs.

“Aidan Burke, if I take three steps forward and there’s a young lady on top of you in that truck, I’m arrestin’ you.”

“Shit!” I sit up, taking Jessie with me and lifting her into the other seat. “Belt up!” I pull my seat back up into an upright position and roll my window down as a familiar figure comes into view. “Sheriff. How are you this fine evenin’, sir?”

“Hmm.” He flits his eyes between me and Jessie. “I’m well. What are you young folks doing out here, parked by the side of the road?”

“Well, sir, Miss Jessie has a habit of taking her frustrations out on me while I drive, so I thought I’d pull over so I don’t accidentally spin the passenger side of the truck into a tree.”

“Real thoughtful of you, Aidan,” he replies, nodding. “I’d advise against it. Criminal charges and all that.”

“I’ll do my best to remember that, sir.”

“I’m sure you will. Remember to wipe the lipstick off your mouth before you lie to me next time, boy.”