“Blake, I can’t afford a rental.”
“You won’t be payin’.” His clipped tone of frustration reignites my anger.
I may not have the answers to why the thought of him sleeping with the beautiful mechanic has me pissed, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissed.
“I know that, Blake. Trust me. I know exactly how she’ll take payment.”
Two steps and he’s in my face. The heat from his car presses into my back.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“My problem? You’re the one who uses your dick like a credit card.”
He stares me down, his emerald eyes digging deep. “What did he do to you?”
I suck in a ragged breath.
“Can’t be much older than thirty, got a sixteen-year-old daughter. Alone in a new town. No man around to fix your car.” His words are spoken in soft whispers, like he’s talking to himself. “You’re always on guard, like the next guy might destroy you with a look.”
My chest heaves as I scramble for air. His eyes search mine, and I’m unable to speak while locked in his gaze.
“Shadows. I can see ’em dancing in there.” His expression is pinched with what looks like concern. “Shit, Mouse. What’d he do?”
He lays his palm on his Jeep beside my head and leans in, his tall body curving over mine. I don’t answer, afraid my voice might break, or I’ll show a weakness I can’t afford to expose.
I told myself I’d stay away from guys like Blake. It’s because of my fascination with the wrong type of guy that I ended up a teenage mother. Not that I’d change what happened that night. Everything that happened after, yes. But not that night.
That night brought me Axelle. And her, I’ll never regret.
Blake
I’m so close to her perfect pink lips. A slight shift of my body weight and my mouth would be on hers. A small gust of wind carries the vanilla scent of her skin, and calls to my senses. My dick is achingly hard, pressing to get closer to her. And with most girls, I do just that. But not this one.
She has responsibilities. The life of another human being depends on her. And then there’s her past. A failed marriage doesn’t leave a woman without scars. I’m not a guy who listens to women’s problems and cuddles them until they feel better. I don’t promise to right another dude’s wrongs. And this is no exception.
There’s no denying this chick does something to me. Her strength and attitude call to me on a physical level. And there are moments when she forgets to reinforce her tough-girl exterior and leaves herself exposed. Fuck if those glimpses don’t make me want to possess her and become the man she needs.
Her pupils dilate against the near-black color of her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the energy that’s whipping up between us. At this distance, and without the barrier of her glasses, I can make out a girlish sprinkling of freckles across her nose that defies the stubborn set of her shoulders. Her mouth parts, either to say something or accommodate her breathing. My heart races. If I could lean in, have one taste.
I lick my lips. Her eyes flare. Fucking hot.
“Mouse.” My voice sounds gravelly with hunger.
The reasons I don’t hook up with women who have kids fade to the background, giving control to my desire. The rise and fall of her chest, flushed cheeks, and wide eyes transform the mountain of my issues into an anthill.
She lifts her hand tentatively, holding her palm inches from my chest. Her eyes ask the question. Please, fuck yes, touch me. She places her hand against my pec. The warmth from her feminine touch sears my skin, and I fight the urge to plunder her mouth—to hell with the fallout.
“Blake…” My name slides from her lips. “You don’t want to do this.”
The fuck I don’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but in this moment, I’ve never wanted a girl more. My blood feels jagged as it rips through my veins. Muscles tense beneath my skin, itching with restlessness to touch her. I lock down the urge to flex my hips into her and show her exactly what she does to me.
“Last night, what you said? You were right, I’m broken.” Her fingers dig in and grab hold of my shirt. “You’d only hurt me.”
I take a deep breath, and close my eyes. As much as I want this girl naked, I can’t allow myself the selfish gratification. She’s a mother, and as far as I can tell all that her daughter has. Fucking her up will have lasting consequences even an asshole like me can’t live with.
I step back to clear my head. Her hand falls to her side, and I immediately miss her touch. The distance is little help, but it’s enough that her scent weakens, allowing me to think logically again.