You've Got Fail(51)



She was referring to me by my nickname again, putting more distance between us. I’d cross the miles to get to her, to finally get to know her more than just as “Scarlet.” The burning need to know her true identity seared back to life inside me, but I ignored it. “I tried to call and text, but you wouldn’t respond. This is my friend Elias.”

“Hi.” He smiled, though his eyes travelled to Hannah, who stood at the counter and tore open the food bag.

“Nice to meet you, Elias.” She crooked a finger at me and headed down the short hallway toward the bedrooms. “Come on, Sparky. Let’s talk in my room.”

I rose and followed. A small bedroom to my left had a pile of Rubik’s cubes in one corner and walls covered with numbers and equations in red marker. Scarlet kept walking to the last door at the end of the hall. “This is me.” She swung it open and ushered me inside, then closed the door behind us.

A queen-sized bed with a turquoise comforter sat in the middle of the room, and a small desk with a laptop was pushed against the wall next to the window. Clothes were draped along the back of the desk chair, and little bits of personality showed in the varied art that lined her walls. Nudes and abstract pieces, bright colors mixed with simple black and white.

“You have an eye for art?”

“I dabble in counterfeits.” She smiled and sat on her bed. “Have a seat.”

I sank next to her, our thighs touching.

She turned, her deep brown eyes mesmerizing me. “You can’t just come to my house whenever you’re feeling antsy.”

“If you’d answered my texts or calls, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“This verges on stalker territory.” Her light tone belied her words.

“First, I’m worried about you. This whole Pauly thing has me losing sleep. Second, I think you like it when I check up on you.”

The corner of her lips twitched, and she turned away from me. “I don’t.”

“Look in my eyes and say it.” Just being this close to her, the scent of vanilla, the smoothness of her skin—all of it lit me up brighter than a Gloworm on an acid trip.

She returned her gaze to mine, amusement making her eye sparkle. “I don’t like you checking up on me.”

“Right.” I leaned closer. “If I didn’t know better, it seems like you missed me.”

“Dream on, Sparky.” She rose and leaned against the wall opposite me.

I strung a catalog of fucks together in my mind at her sudden distance. “Why didn’t you respond?”

“Jeez, you’re a wet blanket.”

“More like a very masculine sort of duvet.”

“A wet blanket who takes metaphors too far.” She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Don’t you write blog posts where you pretend to be the type of woman who can sleep with a guy and then move on from it the next day? You know, like a normal person?”

I brushed aside the sting of her words. “It meant more than that.”

“Maybe to you.” She shook her head. “We spent some time together, okay? It doesn’t mean we’re married now. It doesn’t make it okay for you to stop by my place whenever you want.”

“We didn’t just spend time.” I rose and took the short steps to her.

She tilted her chin up, holding my gaze as I peered down at her. “Okay, we had sex. Same principle applies. This isn’t forever.”

“Why are you in denial?”

She crinkled her nose. “It’s not denial. It’s the truth.”

“So you’re saying that when I do this”—I dragged my thumb across her bottom lip—“it doesn’t do anything for you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What about this?” I bent down and softly pressed my lips to hers. Her taste reminded me of everything I ever wanted but wasn’t able to get. She was fleeting, but I needed her to stay. I pressed my lips harder against hers, and she opened her mouth.

I massaged her tongue with mine, destroying her defenses with each caress. When she wrapped her hands around my neck, I hummed with satisfaction.

She broke the kiss. “I can’t do this.”

“What?”

“Get involved with you.”

“Why not?” I stroked my thumb down her cheek.

“I just can’t.” Her troubled eyes met mine. “Not with you.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m not the woman for you.”

“Let me make that decision.” I kissed her again, swallowing her protest as I grabbed her ass and lifted her, pinning her between me and a fake Picasso.

Her hands ran through my hair, pulling and scratching as she returned my kiss with a recklessness that seemed to be a taste of her essence. This was her—no caution, no care—just pure enjoyment.

I squeezed her ass, then turned around and lay her on the bed. We kissed like teenagers, making out while our hands explored each other. Over our clothes, then under, then my fingers dipped inside her. She gasped against my lips as I pulled my fingers to her clit and rubbed her in circling strokes.

“Willis.”

“That’s it.” I nibbled her ear and couldn’t stop myself from thrusting against her gently, dry fucking her thigh as I fingered her.

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