Playing It Safe(41)

“Oh.”

“So tell me,” he demands quietly. “How drunk are you right now?”

“I’m not drunk, Alex.”

Technically I’m not, but I’m definitely not sober. In addition to that, I’m turned on and there is nothing worse than being in this state and knowing that there is no relief in sight from him tonight. My fistful of his tie unfurls from my grip and falls back into place against his lean frame. I try to escape from being pinned against the wall, but his grip on my hips tightens and keeps me right where I am.

He leans in and cups the back of my neck with one hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. Alone,” I snort.

“You’re really upset with me, aren’t you?” he asks with a lighthearted chuckle.

“I’m not upset.”

I’m really not. It’s more that I’m frustrated that he chose this exact moment to be honorable. I do respect that, but at the same time I wish he would forget about honorable intentions and just take me home and have his way with me.

He scans my face and lets out a reluctant sigh. “Let me take you home.”

“Lisette’s my DD for the night. So you don’t have to worry about me.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “You are upset with me. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“No, we’re not ‘getting somewhere.’ If we were, you’d be taking me home, and we’d be really getting somewhere.”

All traces of humor vanish from his eyes when he drops his hands from my hips and then brackets them on both sides of my head instead. “Trust me, Julia, if you weren’t drunk right now …”

“I’m not drunk,” I quickly correct him.

“Fine. If you weren’t a little drunk, I’d take you home and do all sorts of things to you.”

“What kinds of things?” I ask breathlessly, and he grins a shit-eating grin since he knows he has me, hook, line, and sinker.

“First, I’d make you take off all of your clothes for me … slowly.” His eyes stay locked on mine, gauging my reaction when his hand slips under the hem of my blouse and brushes against my skin. I suck in a breath at the contact, wanting so much more and wishing we weren’t in a crowded bar at the moment. He continues torturing me by running his fingers lightly across my stomach and then stops when he reaches the button of my jeans.

I run my fingers through his hair before grabbing a handful and playfully pulling his head down. Lining my mouth up to his ear, I lick my lips and then quietly say to him, “Then what would you do to me? And be very specific.”

Alex exhales against my cheek and says, “Then …”

“Um, excuse me.” Lisette’s voice interrupts the very vivid play-by-play Alex was starting to get into.

Letting go of my light grip of his hair, I peer over his shoulder because he hasn’t moved an inch. Lisette has Sarah on her arm, who has the goofiest smile on her face and is definitely in sloppy drunk territory.

“We’re leaving. Do you still need a ride home?” she asks with a tilt of her head to acknowledge Alex still crowding me.

“I’m coming,” I tell her, and bring my attention back to him.

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying to me—several times,” he rasps, enticing me further. Immediately he drops his hands and moves to the side to let me go with them.

The smug motherf*cker—and I say that in the most endearing way possible—has me drooling with lust and practically losing my balance as I take my first steps toward Lisette and Sarah.

“Good night, ladies,” he calls out to us. I spin my head around to get one last look at him. He’s still smiling, and worse, the dimples are out, only adding to his gorgeousness.

I think I mumble an unintelligible good night back to him, but I can’t be sure because my thoughts are still between picturing taking my clothes off for him and imagining all the ways he could make me come. It’s not until I get outside and the salty ocean air floods my senses that I’m snapped back to reality.

And it’s a suck-ass reality. One that involves me going home alone again with my lady parts screaming at me for taking that last shot of tequila.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


I’m dropped off first, thank God. Because if I had to listen to Sarah beg to be taken to IHOP one more time for French toast I was going to punch her in the face.

Why, you ask? I’m sexually frustrated beyond the point of reason, and not in the mood for company with the exception of one person, and that isn’t happening tonight.

“God, I’m such an idiot.”

There I go talking to myself again as I unlock the door to my house. This only serves to piss me off more since I was just starting to get a handle on that shit.

I toss my keys on the coffee table and walk to the kitchen, where I proceed to pour myself a glass of wine. Hopefully this will help to calm me down a bit before I head to bed alone. But it doesn’t help in the slightest. I’m still wound up so tight that if I shoved a piece of coal up my ass it would come out looking like a diamond.

Maybe some music will help me get my mind off things. I take my iPhone out of my purse and head for my bedroom. Once it’s docked in its speaker stand, I scroll through the stored music until I find something that I think will work. The beginning chords of John Legend’s “Save Room” begin, and I know I’ve made the right choice. I have to mention that one of the perks of living alone is being able to put on music at whatever time of day or night without being fearful that you’ll wake someone up in the next room. With that in mind, I start to sing along as I get undressed and ready for bed.