“Sharing all the hang-ups before going to bed with someone.”
Holy shit. She couldn’t believe she’d said it. Here he’d been talking about not being forward, and she’d bluntly addressed the elephant in the room. But if it made him uneasy, that was only further proof this wouldn’t go anywhere. She liked sex. She had a lot of it. She would like to have it with him someday, even if she’d vowed not to. Or maybe because she’d vowed not to. First she would have to clear her head a bit and ascertain for herself that he wouldn’t turn into an asshole once he’d been inside her.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and she thought, Yep, that’s it, I’ve scared him off. “What, did I shock you?”
“No.” He shook his head and smoothed a hand down his mouth and chin. Ooh. She’d like to do that herself. Feel that beard rasp her fingers. Her lips. “No, you didn’t shock me.”
He must be made of hardier stuff than she thought. He’d been with Macy, after all, and any girl who could hang with Ghost was probably a bit of a freak in the sheets.
Eww. Why had she thought of that? It seemed practically incestuous. Talk about only a few degrees of separation.
What would Macy think of it? Crap. That hadn’t occurred to her. Just because Macy didn’t want Jared anymore didn’t mean she wanted someone she came into contact with on a regular basis banging him.
Ah, dammit, she was getting way ahead of herself here. But it was a little fun. Exciting. This was how she got into trouble all the time. She craved excitement, thrived on it. Seducing this sweetheart of a guy would be a shot of adrenaline in her veins, but what would happen when the rush faded?
Crash and burn.
“I should go,” she told him. They’d covered enough ground tonight.
Jared looked as if that wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. He gave a slow nod, gaze flickering to the front door.
God, he was gorgeous. Okay. He surpassed cute, or hot…he was fucking beautiful. Beautiful enough that she questioned the sanity of anyone who’d left him or didn’t want him. Those incredible blue eyes almost did him a disservice by distracting from the handsomeness of his features. Her fingers itched to sink into the soft thickness of his hair. Her fingers and her lips weren’t the only places she could imagine feeling the tickle of that beard. Oh Jesus, those other places ached. If not for the events of the other night unnerving the hell out of her, and the two little girls dreaming down the hall, she might have straddled him right here on his couch, consequences be damned.
“Are you okay to drive?”
So concerned. Too fucking nice. She might have to tell him to be rough. Pull her hair. Bite her, suck her skin until it hurt, until it bruised. Would he? She might scare a down-home good ol’ boy like him.
“I’m fine,” she told him, amazed at how calm her voice sounded when she was burning up inside.
“I’ll walk you out, then, if you want.”
Starla practically scrambled to her feet. Anything to get moving before she did something she regretted. If she reached that door before she got fucked, then she could consider it a victory: she’d made herself a promise and she’d stuck to it. For once in her damn life.
It simply wasn’t worth it anymore, she thought as Jared walked with her outside and to her car. All the heartache, all the drama, the fighting, the pain, the worry. It wasn’t worth it. Relationships, even meaningless hookups, had caused her nothing but turmoil one way or another. And for what? To get off every once in a while? She could accomplish that much on her own, and usually with way more prowess than anyone else could show her. Why fucking bother, then?
A fat moon had just cleared the tops of the pine trees as Jared opened her car door, thanking her for dinner and once again praising her skills. That much, at least, felt good. Nice to be appreciated. After tossing her purse inside her car and straightening to say a final good-night, she frowned as a blast of distant heavy metal reached them, no doubt coming from Swat’s place next door. Groaning, Jared glanced over his shoulder, and even though the only light was from the moon overhead and the porch light, she could see the tension that suddenly stiffened his body.
“Jesus,” she muttered, surprised at the volume and clarity. “I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah.” His voice was gruff, short. “Especially when the wind is just right—it’s almost like the trees channel it right through.”
“Well…it’s Bring Me the Horizon,” she said lightly, recognizing the riff of “Happy Song.” “Could be worse.”
“I’d like to bring them an ass whooping.”
She could imagine Jared out back with his girls, feeding animals to the sounds of mayhem, probably hoping Ashley and Mia wouldn’t catch an f-bomb or twenty. And to think he knew that she sometimes hung out over there. “I’m sorry,” she said, sighing. “Have you ever asked them to keep it down?”