The Party Girl

by Tamara Morgan

  “It’s not illegal,” Lincoln muttered, glaring at her. “It was just a bar fight. I got suspended. Again. I took it badly. Again. I had too much to drink and told an ugly motherfucker what I thought of his face. It happens.”

  “And the suspension?”

  Kendra obviously hadn’t been humming very effectively, because she stopped and lowered her hands, interested for this part.

  “Not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. Don’t worry so much. I have a plan to get it reversed.”

  “No. No plans.” Kendra entered the conversation with force. “Name one of your plans that has ever worked out the way you wanted it to.”

  “My plans require a long-term investment of time and a level of finesse you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Name one,” she persisted.

  “Okay, let’s see.” Lincoln grasped his hands together on the tabletop, his pause drawn out long enough for Noah to fabricate five or ten plans to take their place. “Got one. There was this dude I know, One-Eyed Louis, and he beat up this other guy over a prosti—”

  Kendra clapped her hands over her ears again. “Oh, for crying out loud, Lincoln. Never mind. Forget I asked. Plausible deniability, remember?”

  Lincoln looked over at Noah and shrugged. “What? I think that’s one of my nicer stories.”

  Noah bit back a chuckle. One thing was for sure—no number of suspensions would ever change Lincoln. Kick him down, set him back, make him bleed, yes. But change him? Not a chance. Lincoln was miles ahead of the rest of them in that regard.

  Kendra pushed back from the table. “If it’s all the same to you two, I think I’m going to head home and let you guys handle the police talk. I still have to go to work today, and the team is going to have a collective heart attack if I’m late. I don’t think they know where all the light switches are.”

  “I imagine they could figure it out,” Noah said. “Even if you aren’t there to direct the proceedings.”

  “Testing my ability to let go and lose control?” she asked archly.

  He was testing a lot more than that, to be honest. “Just trying to figure out if I need to plan for the end of the world this morning.”

  Lincoln cleared his throat. “You know, now that I think about it, I’m wondering if maybe there was an Escalade in the parking lot that night...”

  The anxious look that settled on Lincoln’s brow had a fifty-fifty chance of being an actual memory surfacing or an attempt at directing attention back toward himself. Either way, they weren’t odds Noah cared for.

  “That’s it. I’m taking Kendra back to town myself,” he announced.

  Just the thought of getting behind the wheel of a car set his heart pounding, but there was no way he was letting Kendra head into town alone. The impression of her shaking in his arms was one that would remain for a long time.

  Both Lincoln and Kendra turned to stare at him, jaws slack, mouths agape, incredulity clear.

  Kendra was the first to recover. “But I thought you couldn’t drive.”

  “I said I didn’t drive,” Noah countered, feeling much less confident than he sounded. “Not that I couldn’t.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I fucking hate driving manual.” Noah looked ridiculous inside Lincoln’s car, his robust limbs folded up on one another, his man hands engulfing the knob of the stick shift. To make matters worse, the whole car lurched as he backed up and struggled to transition into first. “I warn you now—I’m a little out of practice.”

  “You really rely on deliveries for everything? Refuse to keep a car for just-in-case scenarios?” It was hard for Kendra to imagine. Self-imposed isolation was one thing; completely cutting oneself off from the real world by all avenues was another. It was the difference between a cleansing facial and a chemical peel—the lengths to which a person was willing to go to make a change spoke volumes about their character. Noah seemed like the kind of man who would cut off his nose to spite his face. Literally. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

  “I can drive, but I choose not to. I had to purge quite a bit to get used to my lifestyle when I came out here, and my car was one of the first things to go.” He didn’t glance at her. “Otherwise I would have packed up and quit after the first few months.”

  “Some people would consider that a sign.”

  “I liked to think of it more as a challenge.”

  “A real challenge would have been having the car near and making the conscious choice not to use it.”

  He emitted a growl full of darkly seductive undertones. “I’m not good with temptation, Kendra. I thought that would be obvious by now.”

  Tell me about it.

  “So where would you have gone?” she asked, her voice strangled. “If you’d had a car and given in to temptation?”

  He seemed to get a handle for the stick and transitioned more smoothly into second gear. “Home.”

  “Which is located in...?”

  “Philly. Center City, to be specific.”

  “Shut up.” She squealed. “You? Really? Mr. Batman-Sleeping-Bag and Goats-for-Friends?”

  He cast her a sidelong look—one with a kind of boyish charm that hinted at roots far beyond this place. All the way to Philadelphia, apparently. “Everyone comes from somewhere. It’s not like I sprang from a cabbage.”

  She couldn’t resist. “Oh? Then you do know where babies come from?”

  “Yes, Kendra.” He licked his lips, and it was all she could do not to reach up and trace their path. “Despite my isolation, I do have a pretty good working knowledge of that particular subject matter.”

  She only wished she could find out for herself. That someone could be born and raised in an urban center only to feast alone on animals he murdered with his own two hands—it defied every piece of logic Kendra had. And in the same illogical vein, it made her want to possess more than just the man. She also wanted the little boy underneath. “Tell me more about your childhood,” she begged. “I’m having a hard time picturing it.”

  Had she asked about his reasons for hiding away, pressed him for answers he wasn’t ready to give, there was no doubt in her mind that Noah would have shut her down. Had she turned the conversation to hints of seduction, there was a good chance he’d have run them off the road.

  But this? Talk of growing up and having parents? It felt safe. Even though it was probably the exact opposite.

  “To be honest, it wasn’t all that unusual,” Noah said. “I was a city boy through and through. I played in the streets. Breathed in car fumes like oxygen. Hated books and loved video games. Stole candy bars from the neighborhood bodega when no one was looking.”

  “How charmingly normal.” Noah’s childhood sounded eerily similar to her own, though her family was from Hartford and it had never occurred to any of them to shoplift. “No community garden where you first learned to hoe? Or goats corralled in the courtyard to milk?”

  “Just the lone crabapple tree.” He laughed. “And no one dared to eat those after the first time.”

  How adorable. How painfully, heart-achingly adorable. “So the outdoorsy stuff...that came entirely from the summers you spent in Pleasant Park?”

  “Not in Pleasant Park—on my land in particular. It used to be my grandfather’s, and he insisted I come out every year to learn how to be a man.”

  “I’d say he accomplished his goal.” Understatement, meet the patently obvious.

  “You’d be surprised. I hated every minute of it—at least, every minute I didn’t sneak into town to hang out with Lincoln. My grandpa lived in this falling-down old log cabin I’d swear was built in the eighteenth century. No electricit
y, no running water. Just him and his refusal to play nice with others. You can still see the remains of the house along the west end.”

  “Sounds charming.”

  “If you think I live rough...” He shook his head ruefully. “I only wish the two of you could have met. You would have blinded him with your sparkly jewelry and positive attitude. He’d have had no idea what to do with you.”

  “Maybe he would have asked me to milk his goat.”

  Noah’s burst of laughter came as if out of nowhere, clocking her and leaving her slightly dazed. “Actually, I take that back. He’d have loved you. He always admired a woman with grit.”

  Kendra preened. No one had accused her of having grit before. Even though it sounded like something she’d normally scrub away with a pumice stone, she had the feeling it was a compliment coming from Noah.

  She had more to say on the subject—more questions to ask, more curmudgeonly grandfathers to psychoanalyze—but they were approaching a stop sign at an alarmingly fast rate. “Aren’t you going to stop?” She clutched the door handle. The only other option was to cling to Noah’s arm, and that didn’t seem like the best idea right now.

  “Nope.” Noah set his teeth and, after making a quick look to the left and right, turned the car. “There. I didn’t have to stop and start again that way.”

  “I’m beginning to think I should have taken my chances with the rogue warrior in the SUV.”

  “Don’t.” He looked over at her, his gaze sharp. “If you see those guys again, pick up a phone and call the police. Don’t take any chances.”

  “Do you really think it’s going to happen again?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” The hard edge in his voice gave truth to his words. “All I can say for sure is that you don’t want to mess with anyone Lincoln has crossed. You know him. You know how infuriated he makes you. Imagine what you might be willing to do if you had a real grudge to pay.”

  She thought of the past few weeks, of that long, drawn-out dance of avoiding the sexual tension that seemed to erupt every time she and Noah were in the same room together. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before—and, as he’d made it abundantly clear, never would. “I do have a real grudge to pay.”

  He caught her meaning almost instantly. “You’re wrong. Giving in to desire is a privilege, not a right.”

  “You love this, don’t you?” She turned to face him, searching for any sign of weakness and finding none. “You enjoy every minute.”

  Noah’s hands only stayed firm at ten and two by sheer force of will. It had been a mistake to be alone in the car with her, to insist that Lincoln was still unwell enough to drive. Even their seemingly innocuous conversation about his childhood had taken on another meaning. This wasn’t about their physical connection anymore; she was making an emotional one. And he, God help him, was making it right back.

  “How do you mean?” he asked hoarsely. “Is it the sneaking around I love? The lying? Or the hurting my friend?”

  “I’m not talking about that stuff.” Kendra shook her head and faced forward, making it difficult to gauge her reactions. It didn’t take a genius to guess, though. She was mad. “I mean the stuff where you keep me close enough to tempt you, but not so close you might actually be tempted.”

  Was she fucking kidding? “You don’t think I’m tempted right now?”

  “I think this is all part of your self-imposed stoicism, of whatever it is you’re doing to prove your untouchability. You’re testing yourself—and you’re winning.” Her voice grew quiet. “But what you don’t realize is that in playing this game at all, one of us is going to have to lose.”

  He slammed on the brakes, remembering at the last second to put in the clutch and pull off the road a ways. Kendra gasped, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of his shitty driving or because she knew what was on his mind.

  At the moment, what was on his mind wasn’t a whole lot. All Noah knew was that Kendra was wrong. He was tempted and he was losing and then temptation was gone and he was lost.

  There was no room in that tiny car for him to do more than kiss her over the storage compartment that separated their seats. The awkwardness of the angle should have stalled him, given him pause at least, twisted some goddamn sense into him. But if anything, the obstruction only served to fuel his desire to finally feel her mouth under his.

  He took possession immediately, forcing her lips open and sweeping his tongue against hers, consequences be damned. History had proven one thing to be true—when Noah fell, he fell hard.

  And this was hard. His lips were hard as they demanded she give back as good as he gave. His grip on her shoulders was hard, pulling her against the seatbelt as he strove to reduce the distance between them. And his body—that was the hardest of all. He’d spent most of the past two weeks fighting against himself, willing his dick not to react to her nearness, her scent, the laugh that filled the corners of his house in ways it had never been filled before. Now that her tongue rode urgently against his, he grew powerless against his body’s baser urges. His balls tightened and his cock swelled, both thrumming with a pleasure he knew he’d come to regret later.

  He reached down to unclip her seatbelt, but was checked by her hand. With a soft moan, she pulled back just enough to give her room to speak, but not nearly enough to clear his mind of anything but the desire to feel her willing mouth surrender to his again.

  “Don’t. If you release me from this seat, I can guarantee you I’m going to climb onto your lap.”

  The thought of Kendra wriggling on top of him, of all that skin writhing within his touch, did little to move his hand away.

  “What happens after that?”

  He could feel her smile against his mouth and flicked her lips lightly with his tongue. She moaned and opened to let him in, a long, slow, lazy draw of her tongue against his.

  “Then I unbutton my shirt and press my tits in your face. I’ve got this incredible strapless pink bra on right now. It’s lace and has a tiny bow right in the middle. Sweet. But not nearly as sweet as it would be to have your beard scratching against my nipples. I’ve been dying to feel that beard all over me.”

  Oh, fuck. He drew his hand away from her seatbelt, aware they were playing with fire here. “And after that?” he asked hoarsely.

  “I don’t know, Noah.” She let out a long sigh and sat back in her seat. He became aware, on the fringes of his vision, that her hands were shaking as she adjusted her seatbelt. “I’m not used to having to do all the work. What would you do after that?”

  Groan. Cry. Clamp down on one of those nipples and suck so long and so deep she’d come on the spot.

  “I’d realize how incredible it is to feel you moving against me,” he said truthfully, “and never be able to stop.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. Which is why you’re going to start this car and pull back onto the road. You don’t get to hate yourself at my expense.”

  He reached a hand up and traced her lips, still moist from his mouth, slightly parted to let him in. “I’m sorry.”

  She turned into his hand for just a moment before pulling away. “Don’t be. It was one kiss. I think we can safely state that your loyalty remains intact.”

  Except they both knew that was a lie. As he ground the gears to get the car back onto the road, it was impossible to ignore the tension between them—a tension that needed a lot more than one kiss to dispel.

  Since that was out of the question, Noah opted for the next best thing. “I figure I can keep Lincoln over the weekend, but he’ll want to go home on Monday.”

  “Seems reasonable.”

  “That means it’s going to be one hell of a long weekend.”

  “For you, or for Lincoln?”

  There was no use pretending. “I was hoping for all three of us.”

&nbs
p; “I’m not a good liar, Noah. And I suck even more at denying myself pleasures that are within arm’s reach.”

  “You stopped us today.” You proved the stronger of us. The better of us.

  “And it zapped the absolute last of my martyr reserve, I promise. If you had any idea what I’m thinking of right now, you’d probably run away in horror.”

  “Horror? Are you sure that’s the right word?”

  She released a short laugh. “Well, it’s not for the faint of heart, I can tell you that. There’s lots of screaming involved.”

  Once again, his hand found its way across the gap, winding in her hair, gripping her neck. He held firm, loving the way the gentle muscles twitched to life under his fingers. “Will you at least think about it? I know it’s a mistake, but I can’t help myself. I promise not to kiss you. Or touch you. Or shoot sex lasers.”

  “I know you do.” She pushed back, forcing him to withdraw his hand. “The problem is I can’t promise that back.”

  “Two days. Then you never have to see me or think of me again.”

  She couldn’t imagine anything worse than prolonging their goodbyes under the careful guard of Lincoln’s jealousy. They had no past, no present, no future. They were just a giant ball of desire, rolling along and growing larger with each passing day, no final destination in mind.

  Unfortunately, she’d reached her limit when it came to staying out of the path of destruction that ball left behind. There was only so much push and pull a woman could take before she ripped in half. There was only so much pain she was willing to undergo for the sake of this man.

  Maybe that made her weak. Or spoiled. Or both.

  But it also made her human.

  So many people—Lincoln included—seemed to think that because she was confident, because she embraced her sexuality, because she found joy in making herself attractive to the opposite sex, she was some sort of molded plastic piece, impervious to ordinary pain. Okay, so maybe she had a few bionic parts, but that didn’t make her less susceptible to feelings than other women. There was still longing under her surface. There was still fallibility running through her veins. Even her cold, calculating heart could break.