Out of Love(28)
Sticky, gross hot.
There were easily just as many men as women. My chances of having sex seemed good. Sadly … the pool of viable options dwindled as the party dipped into the early morning hours. Everyone seemed to be coupling, except me. Missy suggested I have a drink. She thought guys were intimidated by my costume and my sobriety.
I didn’t drink. Not for special occasions and not to get laid. When I discovered my room and bed were taken, I escaped the house for some fresh two-in-the-morning air. Plunking my ass into the hammock Aubrey put in the front yard for her spiderweb display, I closed my eyes, and it swayed gently side to side. At some point, I fell asleep.
A cold, wet nose woke me up. It was dark, and I felt certain from the hum of the music, my bedroom was still being used for a bone fest.
“Jerry …” I sat up, nearly falling out of the hammock onto my ass as I rubbed my eyes. “What are you doing?” Then it happened, I fell onto my ass. “Oof!” I laughed a little as he licked me. “I’ve missed you. Where is he? Is he injured again? Is that why you’re here?”
Climbing to my feet, I straightened my hat and messy ponytail. “Let’s take you home and see what’s up.”
I followed him to the back door of the firehouse, not expecting to have those eyes render me motionless and speechless the second I stepped into the kitchen. Slade glanced up from the table and his laptop.
“Hi,” I whispered, suddenly overwhelmed with nervousness and vulnerability. My costume might have had something to do with the vulnerability part.
His tongue swept across his bottom lip as his weary gaze managed to find enough strength to check out my entire getup. “Hey,” he responded softly when our eyes met again. “Nice costume.”
I gave him a shy smile, adjusting the top of my onesie, but it wouldn’t cover another inch of my breasts. That seemed to be the point when I picked out the costume. However, with fully dressed Slade’s intense gaze all over me, I wished it gave me a little more coverage. “Thanks.”
I folded my hands near my chest, using my arms to cover some bare skin. The AC and lack of bodies made his kitchen feel twenty degrees cooler. The lack of pumpkin spice and sweat delivered a nice breath to my senses.
“I uh … just wanted to make sure you were okay since Jericho showed up at my house.”
He studied me a bit more. “He was making sure nothing happened to you while you were sleeping alone in your front yard wearing…” he gave a slight nod toward me “…that.”
“I see. So … you’re protecting me again? A month and no word from you, but tonight Jericho comes to watch over me?”
“What makes you think he ever stopped looking out for you?”
What the hell?
After I let that hit my heart and bounce off it—but not without making a little dent—I untied my tongue and said the only thing that made any sense. “I don’t need you to watch after me. I’ve been learning self-defense. I’m not the weak girl you saved behind the dumpster.”
His eyes narrowed a hint. “That’s always been an interesting assumption on your part.”
“Because it’s not true or because admitting it would be admitting that you killed a man?”
He retuned nothing for close to a minute before nodding to the door. “Go home. Sleep in your bed, not the front yard.”
“Someone else is in my bed. Sleeping or … something.”
For a girl who truly hated very few things or people, I hated how much I missed him. It wasn’t until that moment that the true impact of his absence in my life settled into my conscience with the grace of a bulldozer.
He shut his computer and sighed, staring down at it with a contemplative expression. “You can sleep on my sofa.”
I scuffed my boots along his floor until I was standing beside him. After a few moments of silence, he scooted his chair away from the table, allowing me to stand between his spread legs. I rested my ass on the edge of the table.
His gaze raked along my legs to my breasts, finally finding my face. “You’re not seducing me, Livy.”
Gah! I loved my name sliding from his full lips with that manly badass timbre to his voice. The kitchen fell silent again with the exception of the refrigerator humming. He smelled like a fresh shower and the most tempting prey.
I lifted one boot to his jean-clad leg, putting more weight on the table as I lifted my other boot to his other leg, the table beneath me creaking a bit. “You’re right. I’m not going to seduce you.” I slowly unlaced my boots and slipped them off, dropping them to the floor with one thud and then another. Unhooking my garters, I eased off my fishnet stockings one at a time.
He swallowed hard, jaw muscles tensing, eyes flared.
Sliding off the table, nestled between his legs, I bent down, brushing my lips along his ear, my hands folded behind my back so I wouldn’t touch him with anything but my mouth when I whispered, “Sweet dreams, Wylder.”
As I moved to stand straight again, his hand snaked up my back, fisting my ponytail, slowing my ascent as he lifted his back from the chair and followed my body—followed my exposed cleavage.
For the longest pause, he didn’t move a muscle, not one twitch—his breath hot on my chest, his hand still clenching my hair. “There’s a pillow and blanket in the trunk behind the sofa,” he murmured, releasing my hair.