Make Me Bad(73)

“Do you know him?” Pete asks, turning to look between Ben and me.

I forget to answer him as Ben winds his way through the party and steps outside.

I forget to blink. I don’t think I’ve taken a breath since he walked in the front door.

He walks straight to me, confidently, boldly, and bends low, kissing my cheek, whispering next to my ear. “Sorry I’m late.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and nod.

When he steps back, it’s only far enough for him to loop his arm around my waist and tug me close.

“I’m mad,” I say quietly.

He glances at me. “Yeah?”

I have a frog in my throat that prevents me from continuing, so I nod. Yes, mad. Why again…? Ben’s shirt is so black and his arm is so strong.

“Because I lied to you?” he offers.

YES.

I jerk my gaze to his amber eyes and he can’t hide his smile. He’s not even pretending to look worried about my supposed anger.

“I’ll tell you all about it.”

Then his gaze flicks to my mouth and I think he wants to kiss me, but Pete’s still standing there, staring at us. “So, I take it you’re not single?” he asks, laughing good-naturedly.

Ben arcs an eyebrow at me as if to ask, Well?

“No,” I say, keeping my attention on him. “I’m not.”

Pete shrugs. “Figures.”

When he walks away, Ben turns and steps in front of me, pushing me back. The garage is behind us. The door is closed, but Ben clearly isn’t going to let that stop him. People are definitely watching us. If I looked up, I’d find faces pressed to the windowpanes in curiosity, noses flattened like pigs.

“Where are we going?” I ask nervously.

He reaches behind me to open the door and then he pushes me backward. “Step up. There’s a stair.”

He mostly lifts me up and into the cold, dark space.

A light flickers on and the door closes behind him. There’s a car parked inside and a bike leaning against the wall beside some tools.

Our footsteps echo against the concrete floor as he pushes me deeper inside.

“I’d like to apologize for my absence,” he says, his finger looping through my jeans so he can pull me close.

“Where’d you go?” I ask, arms crossing over my chest.

The skin around his eyes crinkles, but he doesn’t smile. “I’ll tell you after you say you forgive me.”

I shake my head and lift my chin. “No.”

He hums and reaches for my silky tank top, twisting the material in his hand. “It appears we’re at a stalemate.”

“Guess so. Maybe I should go back out there and chat with Arianna’s brother.”

I don’t mean the threat. There’s not enough heat behind it. He glances down to the floor, smiles, and then his eyes meet mine again. He’s not jealous. He’s amused. He thinks I’m cute. He wants to bop me on the tip of my nose.

“That’s it, huh? Now that I’ve turned you into the real Madison—the bad Madison—you’re just going to up and leave me?”

I have to bite down on my smile. I shrug and look away. I even manage to look at my nails as if I’m bored. It’s only half convincing at best.

I arch a brow. “Maybe so. I’m a hot commodity now, Ben. That guy wanted to take me to the beach. I think he was picturing me in a bikini.”

He steps forward and grips my waist, brushing his hands up under my tank top. His thumb drags across my bare navel. My stomach dips in anticipation and there’s no fooling him now. He just revved my engine and he knows it.

“Are you going to tell him about all the bad things you like to do?” he asks, dipping low and whispering the next words against the shell of my ear. “Taking your panties off at parties? Leaving them behind for anyone to find…”

If I were standing in front of glass, my breath would fog it twice over.

He pops me up onto the workbench behind me. I’m blinking over and over, trying to keep up. How does he do it? Seduce me? Slay me? There’s no point in even trying to fight it.

“Speaking of bad things,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck as he slowly pushes his hands higher. Big, rough palms glide across my skin. When he grazes the edge of my bra, I shudder and lose my train of thought.

“Madison,” he says, urging me to continue.

Huh? What day is it?

He kisses the edge of my mouth and then pulls back, waiting for me to continue.

“Right, yes. I was just going to say that I haven’t done anything bad in weeks, really, not since the skinny dipping…”

“So you want to make up for it?”

He gets me. We’re soul mates.

I reach down for his jeans as I ask, “How long do you think we have before Andy realizes we’re gone?”

“Did you see him when we walked in? He’s in heaven. Everyone wants to talk to him. He’ll be busy all night.”

So this is happening then—dirty garage sex. I imagine what I’ll look like after: oil-smudged face, hair covered in sawdust. Maybe we’ll get crafty and use the bicycle seat. I’m imagining that exact scenario just as Ben finds the zipper on my jeans. We can’t strip down all the way. There’s no time. We’re rushing. His hand brushes past the hem of my panties and my stomach dips. I unbutton his jeans and stroke his length inside his briefs. He’s silky smooth and rock hard.