Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(3)

My mouth dropped open with a snippy retort, but I made the mistake of looking back at him again. The words froze on my tongue. My stupid, unfaithful gaze wandered up, then down, slower as it dragged back up again. He wore the tightest pair of black skinny jeans you’d ever seen, and an even tighter white V-neck tee.

Every exposed inch of skin was inked, a vast canvas of beautiful art etched on a darkly beautiful man.

I knew if he tore off that thin piece of material, his back was covered, too.

Beneath that extravagant, intricate ink was packed, solid muscle.

That attraction I’d been running from for months slicked warm and slow through my veins, this fluttery feeling I hated thrumming through my senses.

God, this guy was doing his all to make me break the promises I’d made myself.

I didn’t want this. Didn’t want to stand up against the allure and seduction. Didn’t want to admit he made me feel things I didn’t want to feel.

Things I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Dangerous things.

Those dark eyes tracked the way my throat tremored and rolled as I glared up at him and tried to pretend I wasn’t affected.

Brazen, he reached out. Callused fingertips glided down the hollow of my neck to my collarbone, as if he couldn’t resist but call me out.

I should have been repulsed. But I knew those calluses were bred from years of playing across the strings of his guitar, forged in the music he made.

Tingles spread like wildfire.

That energy buzzed.

I shook.

“What do you think, Red? You wanna be friends?” he murmured, his voice a lure as he dipped his head closer.

I tore myself away and forced an incredulous snort. “Don’t flatter yourself, rock star.” I said it like a dirty word. “Not every girl is going to fall at your feet.”

He tossed the apple once more, caught it in his hand, before he lifted it and took a big, crunching bite. He chewed, that damned smirk making a reappearance, red, red lips twisting like a decadent bow. “You sure you don’t want a taste?”

It was pure innuendo.

“I’d rather starve.”

He barked out a laugh. “Want to know what I think?”

“Nope.”

I most definitely did not. That was my cue to make an escape.

I took a rigid step back.

He just inched forward, crowding my space, his head inclining toward mine the nearer he came. He ducked down until his nose nearly brushed mine and his voice went rough. “I think you are absolutely dying for a taste. I think that sassy little mouth of yours is watering and your belly is growling for a fill. And I think in order for you to finally get that stick out of your ass, all you really need is to get a sample of what it’s like to really be satisfied.”

My chin lifted defiantly in the same second my shoulders rolled back, my hard, rigid armor snapping into place. “And just what makes you think you could satisfy me?”

His grin was smug as he straightened and took another bite. “You brave enough to find out?”

My mouth dropped open, and I clamored around in my foggy brain for a response, for a way to shut him up and shut him down.

He called it brave.

I called it stupid.

He was smiling a self-satisfied smile when he dug in his pocket and pulled out a five. “Don’t look so freaked out, Red. All you have to say is no.”

Tongue tied, I could say nothing.

His attention turned to the man selling the apples, and he tossed the bill on the display table.

“Delicious.”

He shot me a wink.

He actually freaking winked.

He turned and strode in the same direction he’d come, his horrible, horrible promise floating on the breeze as he gave me a casual wave over his shoulder.

“See ya around, Red.”

I was sure I felt the ground shake.





LOYALTY.

It was an idea that meant different things to different people. Funny, because it should be a no-brainer. Require zero thought. But that concept covered so many bases it often became convoluted and confused.

Take the contrast of a man being loyal to his wife versus another man’s best friend helping him cover up an affair. I was convinced that was nothing less than a contradiction, although some would argue it’s the exact damned thing. Sticking up and standing by the person who means the most to you.

To me?

Loyalty was absolute.

There weren’t questions or exemptions or exclusions.

Loyalty was the one unfailing moral I had. The one f*cking thing I could count as good.

I pressed my cell a little harder to my ear, gritting my damned teeth, and wished I was back two minutes in time so I could mess a little more with Red. Dig that knife in a little deeper. Watch her splutter and fumble. Swim in those barely contained waves of lust before those blue eyes became irate.

Damn, I loved a girl who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind while her body told an entirely different story.

That was the type of contradiction I craved. The push and pull. Hate bristling with want.

Sex with Red would blow my mind. I was sure of it. Which I was pretty sure was why I couldn’t purge the idea of it from my thoughts. That girl was a bundle of fireworks, and I was certain we’d go boom.

But no.

Instead, I was talking to this *.