More Than Lies (More Than #1)(64)

Hell no.

I twist, turning around to face him. He steps back, but I grab the front of his jeans. Without allowing him time to process what I’m doing, I quickly pull his belt buckle open. His brain must catch up, because he stops my hands from unbuttoning his pants.

“Tara, no. I . . . shit I’m sorry. I shouldn’t . . . I gotta go.” He pushes my hands away from him, but I just bring them up to his chest, pressing against him to stop.

“Let me.” I want to give back all the pleasure he gave me. I want to show him this is good. We could be good if he would just give it a chance. “I want to.”

“No, you don’t. I shouldn’t have taken that as far as I did. Shit.” He breathes hard. His eyes skate down to the mark he made. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m not, and you’re not either. Don’t lie to me. I know you liked doing that to me just as much as I liked you doing it. I saw it, Shawn. I know you did, so do not lie to me and say it should not have happened.”

“Liking something has nothing to do with if it should or shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again. I really am sorry. Move.” His body is tense. He won’t look at me anymore.

“Why are you so against this?” I gesture between us, but he’s not looking so I clarify. “Something more between us.”

“I’m not right for you. You know this.”

“No, actually, I don’t know this.” I mock his words. They’re ticking me off. “Let’s stop skirting around this. You know I want you. Why won’t you give in?”

“I just did, and I shouldn’t have. This isn’t happening again. Drop it, Tara.”

“No.” Okay, that came out a little childish. I might as well have started stomping my feet.

“Don’t you get I’m protecting you from me?” He sounds exasperated.

“What?” That’s absurd. “Why?”

“Tara, protecting you from me is my goddamn mission in life.” With those last words, he pushes me to the side and walks out. I’m left standing alone in a bathroom where he gave me the best orgasm of my life only a few minutes ago. Damn . . . if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.

In a bathroom.

Eff my freakin’ life.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





SHAWN





“Darlin’, a fuck is just a fuck. Doesn’t matter if it’s in a warm bed or up against a cold concrete wall inside a bathroom.”

“But we haven’t—” I press two of my fingers against her lips to silence her. The same plump lips that I only remembered thirty minutes ago were wrapped around my dick last month. I’m pretty certain I fucked her, too. What a wasted night.

“Honey, I’m not in the mood tonight. You asked to share a cab ride, which I graciously allowed. That’s all this was, and I have no desire for a bedmate. Ya feel me, babe?”

“Yeah, Shawn,” she bites those words out with a stunned look marring her overly made up face as she grabs the twenty-dollar bill still slid between my index and middle finger before sinking back down into the back seat of the taxi cab.

I’m sure she thinks I’m a complete dick, but hey, I paid her cab fare home. I can’t be that much of a dick.

I push the door closed, turn on my heel and make my drunk-ass way up the driveway to my house. I can hear the music playing from outside. It’s not loud enough that the neighbors will call the cops. Hell, I bet half of those motherfuckers are inside right at this moment. Probably a few passed out and scattered throughout my place, too. Parties are starting to get back into full swing around here since that night Tara was drugged a few months ago.

I haven’t laid eyes on that shit-fuck, but when I do, he’ll wish he’d never crossed me. That’s a day I’m looking forward to.

As my feet land on the last step leading to the porch, a figure catches my eye demanding I look that way. The first thing I see is a tangled mess of blonde waves. It’s shielding her heart shaped face from my view because her head is bowed, but I know it’s Tara.

It’s been six days since our heated bathroom moment on Christmas night. I’ve done a good job of avoiding her like the plague. Not only at work, but at home too. It’s easy when I stay out so late so that by the time I do get home, she’s already in bed. When I finally get up in the morning, she’s usually already left for her classes. I even missed family dinner night earlier this week. I regretted that. I should have manned up and faced her, but I didn’t.

Mason and Matt both prefer to get hammered in walking distance of their beds. With parties starting to gather at my house on the weekends again, I can understand why she’s still awake. A moment of concern flashes in me, remembering what happened those months ago with the guy that drugged her.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” I stop to ask, but she doesn’t move or look up. It’s then that I take in the rest of her. She is wearing a tight pale purple tank top and matching shorts. The light color of the material against her tanned, flawless skin is striking, not to mention too sexy for my liking. Tara wouldn’t dress like that around others. That’s the type of clothes she sleeps in.

The sight of her in next to nothing has my heart racing.