Unbelonging

by Sabrina Stark

  "So?" he said.

  I opened my eyes to study him in profile. "So you don't have to carry me."

  "Yes, I do." He kept right on moving. "You're not wearing shoes."

  "Hey, I got this far, didn't I?" I said.

  "Uh-huh."

  "Seriously, you can put me down."

  He gave a low laugh. "Uh. No."

  By now, we'd made it to his back patio, a brick and stone annex with an outdoor fireplace, covered hot tub, massive grill, and stylish patio furniture in some sort of striped pattern. From this vantage point, his place looked more like a world-class resort than anybody's house.

  With sure steps, he carried me across the brick surface, and nudged us through a back door. Soon, we were travelling down a short hallway and into a spacious great room. It had oak floors, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the patio, and a large, stone fireplace that took up most of the far wall.

  Looking around, I saw no sign of a party. No discarded drink glasses. No trays of hors d'oeuvres. No bowls of chips or pretzels. Definitely no Brittney. I blew out a sigh of relief.

  Crossing the room, he made his way to a white sofa and started to set me down.

  "Wait," I said, clinging to him.

  "What?"

  "I don’t want to get your couch dirty."

  He laughed. "Forget the couch."

  "I can't." Even to my untrained eye, it looked terribly expensive. "What if I ruin it?"

  With a wry laugh, he turned us around so his backside faced the sofa in question. "Hold on," he said.

  "For what?"

  "This." He fell backward onto the sofa, taking me in a tumbled mess with him.

  My dirt-covered legs and feet landed on the white upholstery, leaving dark smudges and scattered bits of fine mulch. If the sofa wasn't ruined, it would definitely need a professional cleaning.

  I frowned.

  "Stop thinking about it," he said. "You didn't get it dirty. I did."

  "Only by a technicality."

  "Forget it," he said. "Now c'mon, tell me what happened."

  Where to start? Inside the brightly lit room, I suddenly felt incredibly awkward. There were no shadows to hide in, and no added clothes to cover my grubby legs and smudged skin. I lowered my face, peeking up at him through my lashes. "I just got locked out. Okay?"

  He gave me a dubious look. "There's more to the story than that."

  "Yeah, there is," I said. "And it's called stupidity. Can't we just leave it at that?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "Stupidity?"

  "Well, that and Chucky."

  At this, a slow grin spread across his face. "Now, that makes sense. What? Did he outsmart you?"

  "Hey," I said. "I'm smarter than a dog." Against all logic, I wanted to smile too. "Just not as devious."

  He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You sure you're okay?"

  I couldn't help it. I gave in and smiled back. "Other than my wounded pride, I'm fine."

  It was true. I was more than fine, actually. For that moment, nestled on his lap, I didn't care that I'd been locked out of the house. I didn't care that I was minus one job. And I didn't care that my legs were dirty or that my hair was wet and tangled.

  The way he was looking at me, I felt not just beautiful, but warm and gooey all over. I was exactly where I wanted to be, and in a surreal way, it just felt right somehow.

  Glancing down, I spotted new smudges marring the tattoos on Lawton's arms and chest. My smile faded. "I'm getting you all dirty."

  "Chloe," he said, "you don’t know the half of it."

  From the look in his eyes, it was pretty obvious he wasn't talking about his skin.

  The cold had long since evaporated, and I felt a searing heat burn my face and other places, places covered by my clothes, as skimpy as they were. Slowly, I realized I was trembling again. And again, it had nothing to do with the temperature.

  "Still cold?" he asked, making a move to pull away. "Need a blanket?"

  I didn't release him. "No. I'm fine. Really."

  His glanced down. "I'm being an ass, aren't I?"

  "Huh?"

  "Here, you are. You're sitting there shivering, locked out of the house, and for all I know, banged up." He pulled slightly away from me. His gaze travelled slowly over my body as if looking for bumps or bruises. When his gaze reached my breasts, he swallowed.

  I could guess why. With every shift of my body, I could feel the hardness of my nipples brushing against the thin white fabric. It probably wasn't leaving much to the imagination.

  His lips parted, and with a visible effort, his gaze kept on going. "Do you need a shower or bath or something?" he asked, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

  I could only imagine how I looked. I reached up to smooth my tangled hair. My hand came away with bits of dried leaves.

  For some reason, it made me laugh. I'd been fantasizing about the guy for days now. But nowhere in any of my fantasies did I have crumbled leaves in my hair.

  He leaned over and pressed his forehead to mine. "What's so funny?"

  I pulled back, meeting his gaze with a smile of my own. "I am so incredibly – "

  "Irresistible?"

  "Um, no…"

  "Adorable? Breathtaking? Impossible to forget?"

  He couldn't be serious. Laughing, I shook my head. "Actually, I was going to say 'gross'." I looked down. "Yeah, I guess I probably do need a shower."

  He grinned. "Probably. But I've gotta be honest. You look fine to me, just the way you are."

  The way he said it, my insides did a funny little flip. "Yeah?"

  He nodded. "And you should probably run as fast as you can for the shower now, before I get tempted to prove it."

  Chapter 24

  I felt myself swallow. My breaths were coming too shallow and too fast. I licked my lips and glanced down. Whatever he meant, I did want him to prove it. My voice was breathy as I said, "A little proof wouldn't be so awful."

  He leaned his face close to mine, our lips almost touching, but not quite. The moment seemed to go on forever, and then, at last, our lips met.

  The kiss started slow and soft, like the kiss of a butterfly, and built steadily to a crushing crescendo of hunger and need. I felt one hand on my upper back, and another wrapped in the tangles of my damp hair.

  Following his head, I reached up and ran my trembling fingers through his tousled hair, feeling the strands thread through my fingers as our lips and tongues met, danced, and slide against each other, making my head swim and my insides smolder.

  I leaned forward, pressing into him until he tumbled to his back on the sofa, with me on top of him. Our bodies pressed tightly against each other, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, lips to lips. My bare feet rubbed against the denim fabric of his jeans. I was probably getting his jeans dirty, too, but I was beyond caring.

  Pulling away, he moved his mouth to my earlobe and then that tender spot behind it, running a string of light kisses as he went. Soon, I heard his voice in my ear. "You're addicting. You know that?"

  My stomach fluttered, but my mind rebelled. The guy had been linked with too many women to count. Starlets, pop stars, and even some swimsuit model. I was just the neighbor girl. Correction – I wasn't even the neighbor girl. I was someone pretending to be the neighbor girl.

  I didn't even belong here.

  But right now, none of that mattered. I was breaking all the rules tonight. I barely knew him, but couldn't bring myself to stop wherever this was going. Everything about him was impossible to resist – his face, his body, and a certain something I couldn’t exactly place.

  He was good at this sort of thing. His words, the look in his eyes, the way he touched me – I'd never experienced anything like it. If he wanted to share pretty nothings and hint that I was somehow special, I'd be an idiot to complain.

  I pushed any reservations from my brain and let myself get carried away by the feel of his incredible lips on my sensitive skin. If I got lost in th
e fantasy, was that so bad?

  His hands moved to my waist, and then lower still. Slowly, they drifted down to my backside, brushing lightly over the thin fabric of my panties. My heart beat wildly in my chest, and I had an uncontrollable urge to press our bodies closer, to feel his heartbeat against mine, to feel his skin on my skin, separated by nothing, not even the thinnest of cotton.

  Soon, his lips were on mine again, and I savored the taste and feel of him. When I deepened the kiss, exploring his mouth with my tongue, he shuddered and pulled me closer, gripping my backside as I ground into him, relishing the feel of his arousal pressing against my pelvis.

  When his hands slipped underneath my panties, and I felt his rough hands on the smooth skin of my ass, I pressed harder against him, wanting to savor every masculine line of him, every muscle, every ridge.

  I pushed back, and ran my hands along his bare chest, doing what I'd wanted to do almost since the very first moment I saw him. I let my hands explore his spectacular physique, marveling that he felt as good as he looked.

  I ran my hands over his shoulders, traced the outlines of his pecs, and let my hands slide lower, down to his abs, watching his muscles rise and fall in time with his uneven breathing.

  His breath hitched, and he said in a low voice, "Chloe?"

  Pausing, I let myself get lost in the moment and captured by the intensity of his gaze.

  He looked at me a long moment, his tousled hair falling in his dark eyes. "I want you to know something," he said.

  I ran a hand up to his neck and caressed the back of it. "Hmmm?"

  "This means something to me. Whatever we do – or don't do – I want you to know that. You're not like any other girl I've ever –" His voice trailed off. "It's just, you're different. The way I feel for you, it's different. It's been different from the first time I saw you."

  His words were intoxicating, but I wasn't naïve enough to believe them. If this truly meant so much to him – if I truly meant so much to him – he'd have treated me as more than some walking buddy. And he'd have definitely invited me to his party. The undeniable logic was a cold splash on my steamy thoughts. My hands froze in mid-caress.

  He sat up, concern darkening his gaze. "What is it? You okay?"

  I took a deep breath. Whatever this was, I refused to ruin it by overthinking. I nodded and shook off the logic to embrace the fantasy with renewed fervor.

  I had this beautiful guy right here, right now. We were in a beautiful house, and he was saying beautiful things that any girl would love to hear. Only an idiot would ruin it by letting logic get in the way.

  I lowered my head to nuzzle his neck. "Actually, I'm better than okay," I murmured against his skin. And it was true. He was doing all the right things, saying all the right things, making me feel all the right things.

  I couldn’t help but smile. "So I'm different, huh?" I teased. "Different bad?" I ran a hand over his chest, and then trailed my fingers lower to his flat, muscular stomach. "Or different good?"

  When my hand brushed lower still, he made a muffled sound of pleasure. "Different good," he ground out. "Really good." He closed his eyes. "You showing up, me finding you tonight, I swear, it's like a gift." A soft moan escaped his lips. "I wished for it. I'm not kidding. They had this stupid cake, and when I blew out the candles, swear to God, I saw your face."

  Wow. That was really, really good. No wonder women fought over him.

  Lots of women. I bit my lip. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad I could taste it. I could feel it, too. I could feel it in my racing heart. I could feel it in my hungry core. I could feel it in my ever-dampening panties, where my body cried out to know him better.

  "Cake?" My voice sounded breathy as I asked, "Is today your birthday?"

  "Technically, a couple days ago," he said.

  My own birthday was just a couple weeks away. It probably meant we were the same sun sign or something, not that I paid attention to any of that stuff. "But I didn't get you anything," I said, feeling all the more awkward at the realization that I'd not just ruined his party. I'd ruined his birthday party.

  "Wrong." His voice was soft. "You fell right into my lap. Seems to me I got exactly what I wanted."

  Still, fantasy or not, I couldn't help but speak at least a little bit of the truth. My tone was light, but the words still tumbled out before I could stop them. "Now that, I'm finding that a little hard to believe."

  He ran a hand along my back. "Yeah?"

  I nodded.

  "Well," he said, pulling me close, "now that you're actually here, maybe it's my job to convince you."

  "Funny," said a voice from the doorway, "I always thought your job was to beat the shit out of people."

  Chapter 25

  Gasping, I bolted upright and practically jumped out of my skin. Pulling away from Lawton, I scooted toward the end of the couch and looked wildly toward the sound of the voice.

  There, in the doorway, stood his friend. The dick.

  Lawton jumped to his feet and gave the guy a murderous look. "I sort of feel like beating the shit out of someone now."

  The guy leaned against the door jamb. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah," Lawton said. "You interested?"

  The guy grinned. "Bring it on."

  "I wasn't joking," Lawton said.

  "Neither was I."

  I was still catching my breath, and I was all too aware that we'd been caught nearly in the act. A few minutes later, and the stranger would've seen more than just a sweaty make-out session. I squared my shoulders and glared at the guy, refusing to be cowed by embarrassment.

  "You need to stop doing that," I told him.

  He looked unimpressed. "Doing what?"

  "Sneaking up like that. Make a sound or something next time, will ya? Seriously. It's freaking me out. And besides, it's rude."

  I looked to Lawton, waiting for him to either dispute it or back me up.

  Turning toward me, his lips curved into a small, but incredibly sexy smile. "You're awesome, you know that?"

  "Huh?" I squinted at him. "What?"

  "I've been wanting to tell him that for years," Lawton said.

  The guy gave Lawton a look. "You have been telling me that for years. Now, c'mon, I've gotta show you something."

  "Not a chance," Lawton said with a vague shooing motion. "Now get the hell out. And this time, don't come back."

  But the guy didn't get the hell out. Instead, he turned his gaze on me. "Still need to get back in your house?" he asked.

  "No. She's staying here," Lawton said. "Too late for a locksmith."

  The guy lifted his eyebrows a fraction of an inch. "A locksmith? You stickin' with that story?"

  "Oh fuck off," Lawton said without any real heat behind the words. He glanced at me. "Sorry."

  He didn't need to be sorry. At this point, I was kind of wishing the guy would fuck off, too.

  "Sure." The guy flicked his head toward the back patio. "But first you've got to check this out. Sorry, but it can't wait."

  "You don't sound very sorry," I said.

  "True," he said. "But it seemed the thing to say."

  "Son-of-a-bitch," Lawton muttered. He gave his friend a hard look. "Fine. Gimme five minutes." Lawton turned back to give me an apologetic smile. "Sorry about this."

  "That's alright," I said, giving his friend a long, annoyed look. "It's not your fault."

  "Hey, still want that shower?" Lawton asked.

  I nodded.

  "How about this? I'll set you up, and maybe we can meet back here in, I dunno, a half hour?"

  I glanced at the doorway. The guy was already gone, melted away like he'd never been there in the first place.

  I felt my eyebrows furrow. "You related to that guy or something?" I asked.

  Lawton hesitated. "What makes you say that?"

  "Oh please," I said, "I have eyes. You could be brothers. Are you?"

  "Well, since you're so curious about him," Lawton said in a teasing tone, "his name is Bishop."
<
br />   "First or last?" I said.

  "Last. But that's the one he goes by."

  "Oh." The implication was obvious. Their last names were different. That ruled out brothers. "Cousins, then?"

  Lawton gave a laugh. "No. We're definitely not cousins." He grinned. "Don't tell me you have a thing for him?" From the tone of his voice, it was pretty obvious Lawton knew exactly how I felt about that guy.

  "God no," I said.

  "Good. Now, forget him." He reached over to trace the side of my face with his warm fingers. "Let's talk about you. If I let you out of my sight, you're not gonna sneak off on me, are you?"

  I grinned. "Not a chance."

  "Good. Because I'm not kidding. You look amazing just the way you are."

  I rolled my eyes.

  After a quick glance at the door, he pulled me close and nuzzled my neck. "Seriously," he said. "I don’t want to leave you for one minute. But if I don't, he'll just come back, and then –" He shrugged.

  "Then what?" I asked.

  "Then, well, I'd have to kill him."

  Chapter 26

  In the shower, located off the main hallway upstairs, I couldn’t help but smile up into the cascade of hot water. The walk upstairs had been interesting, and that was putting it mildly.

  To reach the main stairway, Lawton and I waded through an obstacle course of half-empty wine glasses, plates of half-eaten appetizers, discarded napkins, highball glasses, and bottles of beer in varied stages of emptiness.

  When I'd asked why the previous room had been untouched, he told me it was off-limits to party guests.

  "Really?" I'd said. "Then why'd we go in there? Is it because the rest of the place was trashed?"

  "This?" He kicked aside an empty beer bottle as he led me by the hand. "You haven't seen trashed. Should've seen my place last New Year's Eve." He glanced around. "Different house. Same mess though. Times a hundred."

  "So why was that first room off-limits?" I said.

  "I guess, it's because," he said as if thinking it over, "no matter how many people are here, I like to keep some space private. Just in case."

  "Oh." My stomach sank. "So, it's uh, for interludes?"

  "Interludes?" He laughed. "Was that what I said?"