After Hours (InterMix)(90)



“That’s not so bad. Plenty of people’s doors have fallen right off their hinges. They don’t even know they got a choice about letting that shit in. And I don’t mean the mentally ill. Regular old everyday hotheads and crybabies.”

“How come your house is so weatherproof? How’d you do that?”

“Growing up in my stepdad’s orbit . . . He lived in a f*cking lean-to, if we’re sticking with this dumb-ass metaphor. Everything got in, and the place was always so soaked in alcohol, every lightning strike started a f*cking fire.”

“And it sounds like it had a corrugated metal roof.”

Kelly laughed. “Yeah, I suppose it did. Anyhow. You grow up with other people’s rainstorms pissing all over you, you get eager to put up some nice thick walls.” We were quiet for a long time, then Kelly broke the silence as we entered downtown Darren.

“You think I’m cold?”

“I think you’re . . . controlled. And if you sometimes seem cold, I actually kind of envy it. It’s not a bad temperament to have, on the ward.”

“How about when it’s just you and me?” Another glance, and his eyes in the dying light cut straight to my bones.

“No, you’re not cold then. Sometimes you’re mean. You know, during the sex. But not cold.” Scalding hot.

“Good.” He shifted his gaze to the road. “I’ve been admiring your cold shoulder the past week,” he added with a smile.

Be a stubborn jerk about it or own up? I’d own up, at least partway. “I’m just trying to keep things how they were. I can’t let all that stuff that happened between us mess up how I do my job.”

“Some filthy little glance in the break room wouldn’t have hurt my ego.”

A warm tremor of pleasure rippled through me. “Sorry. I’m a girl, whether I like admitting it makes a difference or not. I have to work hard to keep all that stuff separated in my head . . . Do I seem like a wreck, to you?”

He laughed. “Hell no. You seen where I work? You’re just fine.”

Good to know . . . though it still felt like a windstorm was blowing around inside my little emotional cottage every time I let Kelly get close. The Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, rattling my shutters. But at times I actually liked the chaos. It was exciting.

“Even if you are a wreck,” Kelly added, turning onto his street, “you crazy chicks are always f*cking rabid in the sack. So I’ll take my chances.”

I shook my head, miming all the annoyance and disapproval I’d have felt if he’d said that back when we first met. But I didn’t feel that anymore. I felt too much other stuff for Kelly to muster irritation, or indeed to take his provocations too seriously.

Instead I just sighed and scolded, “You shouldn’t say ‘crazy.’”

“If the diagnosis fits . . .”

“You know your chances with me always get worse, the more you talk.”

And Kelly finally shut up. For a block, anyway.





Chapter Fourteen


We pulled up to Kelly’s house just as the last of the dusk light drained from the sky. I slammed my door and waved to my Tempo, parked along the curb. “Hi, car.”

Leading me up to the front steps, Kelly said, “I changed your oil and rotated your tires.”

I tried my best to sound exasperated. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Course I didn’t.” He grabbed his mail and unlocked the door, flipping on the lights as he stepped inside. “That’s what makes me so dreamy.”

“Well, thank you. I may just add a bottle of Scotch to that twelve-pack.”

Kelly shut the door behind us, then came close. Real close. I stared up into his eyes and swallowed. I’d hoped I might see that look, but I hadn’t expected it until the burger-grilling portion of the evening was done.

“Yes?”

“Just looking at you.”

There was a tiny glimmer of helpless, post-sex Kelly in his expression, tender and rare. It melted me far faster than any dirty threats he might have on tap.

“C’mere.” He grabbed my wrist and led me to the couch, then gently pulled me onto his lap. We were kissing before I even got settled—deep, sexy kisses that made his tongue feel as base as his cock. He let me hear him, every ragged, needy breath, every grunt and groan as his hips shifted between my thighs. By the time he pulled away, I was already wet.

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