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Slide (Boosted Hearts Book 3)

Page 8

by Sherilee Gray


  God, had she been crying? “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You look…you look…”

  “Hungry?” She bounced off the bed and grabbed her own bag. “I’m gonna get cleaned up. I need food before my body starts chowing down on the fat stored on my ass in protest. I worked hard for this ass. Those pancakes were not eaten in vain.”

  Adam choked back a laugh. “Shit. You always did have a way with words.”

  She grinned, but it looked strained. “Won’t be long.” Then she shut herself in the bathroom.

  Had she really been crying? And who could blame her? He’d been acting like an asshole to cover his weakening resolve. They were stuck together for the next few days. He had to find a way to deal with this. Why the hell did she want him anyway? He had to be the polar opposite of her professor, right? Adam was a college dropout. The kind of man who had grease permanently under his fingernails. Shit, he’d never even taken a woman on a date before. Barely knew what to do or say beyond the usual bullshit people looking to hook up said to each other. Okay, now he was thinking of her and that fucker together. Not a good idea. Another reason, on top of the many others, that he was no good for her. She didn’t need some jealous, overbearing, possessive asshole in her life.

  But that’s how he felt around her.

  He also felt insecure.

  Fucking desperate.

  The bathroom door opened a short time later and Lucy walked out, a waft of honey and some other sweet but musky scent trailing after her. Her hair was a little damp and she’d changed into a sundress. It was white, her shoulders and arms bare, and short enough that he could see the tops of her thighs. The muscles flexed as she walked over to dump her bag on the table then grab a smaller one and lift it over her head. The strap crossed over her chest, drawing the eye to her tight little tits and the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra under that fucking dress. Seeing her like that was torture. All he could think about was bending her over that table, bunching that light fabric around her hips, and getting a look…fuck, tasting what she had hidden between her thighs.

  “Let’s go.” He opened the door and started walking.

  Their room door snapped shut behind him. “Wait up.”

  He could hear her jogging to catch up, and by the sounds of it, in a pair of flip-flops. Instead of taking the car, since the place was so busy and finding somewhere to park would be near impossible, he carried on toward town. Lucy finally caught up and they walked side by side in silence for a while.

  “It’s warm out tonight,” she finally said.

  He opened his mouth to give his standard answer of “yeah” but stopped himself. He needed to pull his head out of his ass or this trip would be more painful than it already promised to be. Lucy deserved better from him. “Some good smells, too.” You being the most delicious of all, sweetheart. “Looks like there’re some food carts.” A short distance ahead, where the street had been closed off, people crowded the stalls set up and live music played.

  Lucy clapped her hands, adding extra bounce to her walk. “Dude, that looks freaking amazing.”

  “Dude?”

  She snorted and shoulder checked him. “Sorry, I forgot you’re old. Does this work better for you?” She plastered a cheesy grin on her face. “Oh wow, look, Mr. Grady! Look at the delights before us.”

  His deep chuckle surprised him. It sounded rough, like it had been a long time since he felt genuine humor. Well, at least the uncynical kind. “You call me Mr. Grady again, we’ll have a problem.”

  “Oh? That sounds ominous.” She glanced at him, real happiness lighting up her features. “What do you plan to do? Put me in the naughty corner? Withhold my dessert? Spank me?”

  Adam actually stumbled. Jesus Christ. He’d held his shit together for all of ten minutes, and with only a few innocent words—and he knew that’s what they were because her eyes had gone wide when she realized how they sounded—he was hard for her. Why hadn’t he rubbed one out in the shower before they left? Dousing himself in ice water had done jack shit. But then the idea of jerking off with Lucy just outside the door was something he hadn’t wanted to risk. Not when it would have been her face swimming in his mind while he stroked his cock.

  And even as all these thoughts plowed through his head one after the other, he still said exactly what he shouldn’t. “Spanking is only effective as a punishment if the recipient doesn’t enjoy it.”

  Shut the fuck up. Now.

  He expected her to be shocked. Instead, she gave him a sidelong glance that had his chest tightening. “And what gives you the impression that’s something I might enjoy?”

  Do not engage. Keep your mouth fucking shut.

  “I just do.” He needed to change the subject. Now.

  “From all your vast experience?” One of her brows lifted.

  “You could say that.” Stop.

  “Tell me, do they ask for it? Or do you simply have a knack for this kind of thing? Like a master chef knows when the seasoning is just right? Or a truly talented musician can play something by ear just by listening to a piece of music?”

  The front she was showing him came across as unaffected, but he heard the undercurrent of anger in her voice, the judgment. She was right, of course. He’d been with a lot of women. He couldn’t change that. But he hated that she knew that about him, that she was judging him for it. His own anger reared its ugly head. “It comes naturally. And, baby girl, I know that pert little backside of yours is begging for it.”

  The fake humor dropped from her expression. “I’m going to check out that jewelry stall. I’ll find you later.” She walked away, slipping through the crowd, and disappeared.

  Adam cursed. What the hell was wrong with him?

  His hunger had vanished completely and instead acid swirled in his gut. Knowing Lucy felt the same way about him as everyone else did hadn’t just pissed him off, it stung like a motherfucker.

  But instead of walking away, of heading back to the hotel and giving her the space she obviously wanted, he trailed after her. Staying out of sight, but never allowing her to leave his.

  Lucy suddenly wanted him at a distance. Apparently, he wasn’t willing to do the same.

  Chapter Eight

  What the hell was that? Lucy felt like a goddamn yo-yo. Did he still think that kind of shit would scare her away? Or was he just playing with her?

  Teasing her then throwing other women in her face was not cool. Okay, yes, technically she’d brought up the other women, but she’d gotten so damn angry. She’d decided to throw away her ridiculous plan, that her and Adam weren’t going to happen and then…

  Baby girl, I know that pert little backside of yours is begging for it.

  A shiver moved through her. Gah!

  She walked through the markets for a long time, trying to clear her head, and wound up at some kind of party. There were tables in the middle of the street. A space to dance. Flowers everywhere. The place was decked out in a luau theme, and best of all, there was a bar. She grabbed a beer, then a burger from the nearest food stall, and found a seat. She wasn’t in any hurry to go back to the room. Adam could be a miserable bastard on his own. She had no desire to look at those sexy frowning lips, those intense eyes—and definitely not that carved-from-stone six-pack that, if she’d been standing when he walked out of the bathroom, would have knocked her on her ass.

  Nope. She wasn’t in a hurry to return to that torture. What she should do, though, was take the next bus back to LA, stop messing around, find a damn job, and chalk this lapse of judgment up to a case of temporary insanity. She finished her burger and bought another beer. The light buzz she had going was just what she needed.

  Music started and everyone cheered, stood, and moved to surround the dance floor. Lucy got up to join them in time to see three gorgeous women walk into the middle. They had the whole hula skirt and coconut bra thing going on. They started to dance, hips swinging, rolling to the beat of the drums. They were f
antastic and she found herself clapping and cheering with the rest of the crowd.

  The women started pulling people in to join them and when one of them took her hand, she thought what the hell, and moved into the middle with a few others. A lei was draped around her neck, she was grabbed by the hips, and one of the dancers showed her how to move. Lucy got the hang of it pretty quick, laughing and dancing. God, enjoying herself. When was the last time she laughed, really laughed? When had she last felt light and not weighed down by so much that sometimes she didn’t know how she got out of bed in the morning?

  Refusing to think of any of that, she threw herself into it. Living in the moment.

  That’s when she looked into the crowd and her eyes collided with a familiar pair of intense blue ones. Her heart did a little kick, knocking the breath from her lungs. Adam stood there like a statue while people partied up a storm around him, those eyes never leaving her. Not even when she caught him watching.

  Her first reaction was to stop, but then she changed her mind. He was doing it again, giving off mixed signals. So instead of letting him get to her, or at least letting him see he was getting to her, she spun away and carried on dancing. If he wanted to watch, he could knock himself out. There was no mistaking the heat in his gaze—which she knew he’d just pretend hadn’t been there when the dance ended. Screw it. Maybe she should turn the tables on him? Be the one to do the teasing. To throw out mixed signals.

  Lifting her arms, she put some extra swing in her hips, shaking her ass, letting her body move to the music and the pounding drums. The dancing carried on, and though she hadn’t turned back, she could feel his eyes on her. Finally, she allowed herself to glance back at him over her shoulder.

  He was closer now, had moved right up to the edge of the dance area, body held rigid, fingers curled into fists, chest rising and falling with each breath.

  Hers stuck in her throat.

  Oh God.

  The look in his eyes could only be described as wild, and when she turned toward him more fully, he took another step forward. Heart in her throat, she moved closer, dancing as she went, rolling her hips, and though it was hard, kept her gaze locked with his. He didn’t look away.

  She kept coming until she was a foot in front of him. “Have you been following me? Watching me?”

  “You know I have.”

  Now she was breathing as hard as him. God, panting. She stopped dancing. “Why?”

  Something flickered through his gaze and the muscle in his cheek jumped. “Because no matter how hard I try,” he rasped, “I can’t keep away from you.”

  “Why?” she said again, feeling dizzy from the blood pumping hard and fast through her veins.

  He bared his teeth like some kind of wild animal. “You know why.”

  “Do I?”

  “You just danced for me, baby girl, swung that sexy ass in my face because you know I want to get my hands on it.” He took a step closer, getting in her face. “You know.”

  Yeah, she knew. What she didn’t know was if he’d allow himself to give into it. “What are you going to do about it?”

  A rough breath blew past his lips. “You really want a manwhore like me putting my filthy hands on you, sweetheart? An hour ago you walked away, disgusted at the idea.”

  She blinked up at him. He was so damn wrong. “That’s why you think I walked away?” Yes, she’d thrown that word at him over the years, more times than she’d like to remember, but it was out of hurt and jealousy. Self-preservation. She shook her head. “I didn’t walk away because I was disgusted or scandalized by what you said.” She straightened her spine. “I walked away because I’m sick of your goddamn teasing. You pull me in then you push me away, Adam. You make it clear you won’t ever touch me then you act like you did at Abella’s or throw the women you’ve been with in my face. That’s why I walked away.” She poked a finger into his chest. “Not because I’m judging you, but because I…I want you.”

  He stilled, unnaturally so, then his eyes drifted shut and when they opened again, they were blue flames. So hot she squirmed where she stood.

  “What do you want from me, Lucy?” he rasped.

  She closed the gap between them so her chest brushed his. “I want you to give me the next three days. That’s it. Three days, then I’ll walk away and you can go back to the life you chose for yourself. I won’t ever mention it again, won’t say a word to anyone.” She gripped the sides of his shirt at his waist, fisting it, afraid he’d push her away again while reveling in the way his heart thudded against hers and the hard ridge of his cock pressing into the softness of her belly. “That’s what I want.”

  His nostrils flared. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “Yes…I do.” She squeezed her legs together, close to falling to her knees and begging him to give in. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, and I think you have, too. For the next three days…I want…everything.”

  His shuddering breath brushed her forehead, then his eyes were locked on hers, searching, so damn intense. He growled, more of that beast coming through. “You have, haven’t you?” His breathing turned ragged. “You want my hands on you. Want to feel me moving inside this hot little body, don’t you, Luce?” One of his hands went to her hip and she felt a shudder move through him.

  Would he push her away, or would he…

  “I can feel those sweet, tight little nipples against my chest. Can feel you rubbing those sexy as fuck thighs together. Are you wet, baby girl? Do you ache for me?”

  Oh God. She’d already come this far; there was no point lying. They were on the precipice of something amazing. Of finally getting what they both wanted—not all, but then she’d resigned herself to never having his heart a long time ago.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “You have no idea how much.” And then she did what she swore she never would, she begged. “Please don’t say no. Please, Adam. Don’t leave me hurting.”

  ~ * ~

  Adam stared down into Lucy’s pale green eyes and knew he was screwed. There was no coming back from this, no walking away. If those sleek thighs rubbing restlessly together hadn’t tipped him over the edge, then her plea would have.

  Still, he tried to fight it, one last push. He let all the reasons he should say no to her fly and slam through his mind. She was his best friends’ little sister. She was too damn young for him. Touching her would be a fucking sacrilege, a demon defiling an angel from heaven. But Lucy wasn’t some untouchable innocent. She was a woman, had been making decisions for herself for a long time, and right now she was standing in front of him telling him she wanted him.

  Was he rationalizing this to make himself feel better about taking what she offered? No doubt. But she’d set the ground rules. Rules he could live with…couldn’t he?

  “Adam?”

  Uncertainty had crept into her eyes. She expected him to make some asshole comment, to put distance between them or walk away, his usual MO when he felt himself getting too close to her.

  This time, though, he didn’t push her away. He reached down, took one of her hands gripping his shirt, and wrapped it in his. Her fingers were cold. “Let’s go back to the room.” Was that his voice? That fucked up mess torn from his throat?

  Her fingers spasmed in his. “You want to go back to the room?”

  “Yeah, I fucking do.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, fire slamming him in the gut at the feel of her smooth cheek. God, he wanted to kiss her, but if he did that, they’d never make it back to the hotel and she deserved more than to be fucked up against some building in a shadowy alleyway. He wanted to see her face, all of her when he finally got to touch and taste her. “Let’s go.”

  Lucy didn’t say a word as he led her through the crowd and they emerged out the other side to stride along the mostly quiet streets. Her fingers were still wrapped around his so damn tight, like she was afraid to let him go, like she still didn’t believe this was going to happen. Walking away, sleeping in the damn car, sending he
r on a bus home would be the right thing to do, but he couldn’t do it, not now. He’d go to hell for this, burn for eternity, but it would be worth it for three days with Lucy.

  Worth that and a whole lot more.

  They reached the room and his goddamn hand shook when he pushed the key in and opened the door. He flicked on the light and shut the door behind her when she followed him in. Lucy moved to the center of the room, those fucking thighs jammed together again, hands clasped in front of her body. That innocent yet sexy white dress tormented him, making him feel like some kind of ravenous fucking monster. He wanted to tear the delicate fabric off her body and play out every one of his dirty fantasies.

  But a stronger need called to him, stronger than the throb of his iron-hard cock. His mouth actually tingled with the need to kiss her—to feel the texture of her lips, to learn her taste, breathe in the scent of her skin while he discovered the way her tongue felt sliding against his.

  How many times had he imagined her like this? Walking up to her, taking that lush mouth, and owning it. How many times had he stroked his cock and come just from the idea of it? He didn’t know what it was, why it was the simple act of kissing her that fucked him up when he thought of being with Lucy but, God, he wanted it, wanted desperately to swallow her moans, taste her sighs and whimpers.

  He threw the keys on the small table by the window and crooked a finger at her. “Come here, Lucy.” He wasn’t trying to dominate or control her, but right then he didn’t think he could walk in a dammed straight line, not when his biggest fantasy was about to become reality.

  Her breath hitched and he knew she liked it anyway, that perhaps sweet little Lucy wanted him to take the reins and lead her into sin. Her lashes fluttered as she moved closer, but her eyes didn’t leave his.

  Fuck, the closer she got, the louder his mind screamed at him to stop this, that it was wrong, that he had no damn right to lay a finger on her delicate skin. He knew he should listen, that he should ignore the disturbing yet exhilarating ache behind his ribs, the hellish throb behind the zipper of his jeans, but he knew he couldn’t not touch her.

 

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