Come to Me Recklessly

by A. L. Jackson

  He was all sweaty and dirty and the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  Fingers were suddenly under my chin, nudging my mouth closed.

  Ruffled, I smacked at Megan’s hand. “Stop it,” I hissed, glaring at her in the backseat, and she laughed, her eyes twinkling.

  “What? I’m just trying to help a girl out.”

  “I don’t need any help.”

  Lured, my gaze drifted back to Christopher, who’d noticed Aly’s arrival. The brightest smile lifted his face. Those places he’d singed with his kiss smoldered.

  Which was pretty much every inch of me.

  God. What was happening to me?

  Megan chuckled. “Nope, doesn’t look like you need any help at all.”

  When Jared released Aly, Christopher pulled her in for a big hug, then the three of them headed over to Ella’s side of the car. On instinct, I rolled down my window, catching Christopher’s eye. For a flash, surprise flitted across his face, before a slow satisfaction took it over.

  “Hey there, Sam,” Jared said as he passed, yanking open the door behind me.

  I twisted and grinned back at him. “Hi, Jared. You look… hot,” I teased.

  Jared winked. “You think so, huh?”

  Aly rolled her eyes at me. “Not you, too.”

  “Oh come on, baby,” he said, a ribbing grin slanted in her direction. “I’m sweating like a fucking dog. Sam’s just worried I might die out here.”

  I liked Jared. He’d been a decent guy back in high school, even though he’d been pretty cocky, but he’d always had a good heart. Now he had a depth to him that hadn’t been there before. But he was still playful. Fun. And he loved my friend perfectly.

  Christopher tipped his head in a cordial tease. “Samantha.” It sounded like silk.

  I wanted to kick myself when a small giggle rolled out, but there was nothing I could do to stop it, because it seemed almost like he was trying to one-up Jared by using my full name.

  He’d always insisted on it, and damn it, how I liked hearing it roll from his tongue.

  Jared unbuckled Ella, his voice soft as he murmured to his daughter, while Christopher and I were locked in some kind of wistful stare.

  Christopher shook himself off, tore his gaze away, and said, “My turn.” Gently he took Ella from Jared’s arms. He lifted her face up to his. Her tiny body curled up, and the sweetest smile pulled at her precious mouth. Christopher nuzzled her, whispering words and adorning her with tender kisses.

  Again, my heart did that crazy, erratic thing. Except this time it somehow felt soothed. There was no tearing my eyes from the man who for so many years I’d believed to be callous and cold, because there was nothing but love and warmth flowing from him as he adored his niece.

  “That bad, huh?” Megan said, her voice completely void of the tease from a moment ago, quiet enough that no one else could hear.

  I choked on her assessment. “Yeah,” I admitted. I guess it really was that bad.

  Four hours later, we had safely delivered Ella to her grandma, who was ecstatic to have her for the night, and spent way more money than we should have shopping, and now we were back at Aly’s house getting ready. We’d opened up a bottle of wine, and music was blasting as we danced around Aly’s bedroom, trying on all the different clothes we’d bought.

  Megan insisted on doing my hair and makeup, telling me two girls weren’t truly friends until they’d done each other’s hair.

  Okay.

  I just laughed and played along, downing my second glass of wine.

  Energy swirled through the room, the promise of a good time. How much had I needed this? Needed them?

  I glanced at Aly, who stood in front of the mirror, trying on her tenth pair of heels, searching for the perfect ones to go with her new jeans. She and Megan were belting out a song, singing back and forth to each other like they’d done it a million times, Aly shaking her butt while Megan danced around behind me.

  “Karaoke queens!” Megan yelled when the song ended with a fist pump in the air.

  “Hell yeah!” Aly shouted back, grinning wide.

  Megan caught my eye in the bathroom mirror, smiling and giving me a gentle squeeze on my shoulder. “There,” she said, “all finished.”

  She’d curled my hair into soft waves, and it looked so different from my normally superstraight style. It was sexy and a little wild, and the makeup she’d put on my eyes made them smoky and dark.

  She went to dab some lipstick on my lips, but I stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “I have a little addiction to this.” I pulled out my clear lip gloss and waved it around. Okay, maybe not an addiction. A sick little obsession.

  She laughed. “Rub it in that you have the most gorgeous mouth I’ve ever seen. How is it even possible your lips are so red?” She gasped. “Oh my God… that’s it! You look just like Khaleesi from Game of Thrones but with blue eyes and, you know… without all the dragons and fire. She is my favorite,” she exuded with a starstruck inflection.

  “Pssh.” I waved her off and hobbled on the four-inch red heels Megan had insisted I buy. “Not even close.”

  She looked me over. “Um, you are completely blind, my friend, if you don’t think you look stunning.”

  I looked at myself in the floor-length mirror. Okay, so I had to admit, the way I looked made me feel good.

  Beautiful and sexy and confident.

  A loud knock sounded at Aly’s bedroom door. “Are you all decent?” Jared called.

  “Yep!” Aly shouted back, smoothing herself out just as Jared walked in.

  He stalked over to her. “Goddamn, baby, you are a vision.”

  She blushed, pushed up on her toes to reach his mouth for a quick kiss. He’d already showered and shaved in the other bathroom. “Are you all about ready?” he asked. “I’m starving.”

  “Me, too,” Aly said. “You two ready?” she asked.

  “All set.”

  Megan and I followed them out just as the front door flew open.

  Christopher was there, sucking all the air from the room.

  He’d showered but hadn’t shaved, his hair a completely perfect mess. He’d changed into black fitted jeans and a light blue button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up his forearms, tattoos exposed, and the first two buttons of the collar were undone, giving a peek at the tattoo on his chest.

  Just looking at him shattered me.

  He took a faltering step back when he saw me, his gaze raking me up and down, before he tore his eyes away and spoke to the rest in the room. “Everyone ready?”

  No. Not even close.

  EIGHTEEN

  Christopher

  Music pulsed heavily through the club. Lights strobed down on the dance floor, which was packed with bodies, the beat seductive and dark. Just off to the side, I stood watching. Girls paraded around, wearing next to nothing, begging for the attention that two months ago I would have been all too happy to give them.

  But not tonight. Not anymore.

  Samantha was the only thing I could see.

  Honest to God, this girl must get off on tormenting me.

  I lifted the bottle to my mouth, taking a deep pull from my beer, unable to tear my eyes away.

  Samantha, Megan, and Aly were close to the edge of the dance floor, maybe ten feet away. They were facing one another in a small circle, dancing together the way girls do, all sexy and flirty and like they were having the time of their lives.

  All night, they’d been slamming vibrant-colored shooters, the kind that taste like Kool-Aid and fuck you up faster than you can say “cheers.” With each one, they got a little more uninhibited, and with every passing second, Samantha wrung me a little tighter.

  Not one part of me was interested in any of the girls who made their way over, doing their best to win my attention. Hell, not one had managed it since the second Samantha had barreled back into my life. She was the only thing I could see.

  She lifted the hair from the nape of her neck and into
a messy pile at the top of her head, like she was trying to cool herself off, but I was pretty sure the act elevated the temperature in the club by a hundred degrees. Her hands were at her head, and she rolled her hips, dancing close to Megan.

  That mouth twisted up in a sensual pout and I just about came undone. Hunger roared through my body, my palms sweaty and my pulse igniting in an all-out inferno.

  Shit.

  I scrubbed a hand over my face.

  I’d been hard since the second I swung by Aly’s with the intention of following everyone over to the restaurant. The sight of Samantha had nearly knocked me to my knees, and I’d come damn close to dropping to them and begging her to take mercy and put me out of my misery.

  To douse the fire that had been raging since the second I felt her succumb to my kiss before she’d pushed me away.

  Tonight, instead of dousing the flame, she’d poured gasoline on it.

  She was in a pair of dark blue jeans that had to have been designed just for her, because they were hugging those delicious hips and that round ass perfectly. Her shirt was black and satiny, all modest in the front and scooped superlow in the back to reveal a creamy expanse of bare skin. My fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to trace the length of her spine. And just because I was cursed, she went and paired all of that temptation with these sexy-as-all-hell red heels, so high they brought the top of her head up close to my chin.

  I knew firsthand, too, because I hadn’t been able to resist pulling her in for a hug after dinner, when she’d come up beside me and whispered a quiet thank you after I footed the bill. It was my pleasure, I’d murmured, yanking her to me, because it really was and there was no chance I could keep my hands off her for a second longer. She’d startled, then given in, and I’d just held her like I could forever. She’d shivered when I pressed my hands against that bare skin of her back that was threatening to drive me wild. For the briefest second, I’d buried my nose in her hair, filling up my senses with all that sweetness, so potent I was damned sure she’d made me drunk on it.

  Because here I was, still nursing at my first beer, since I had to drive, and yet there was this fuzziness that eddied through my veins, and my limbs felt heavy and weighed down with want.

  Clutching her hair, Samantha looked toward the ceiling. Red, blue, and green lights flashed against the smooth, soft skin of her face, her neck exposed, and she danced as if she’d just discovered what it was like to be free.

  I jumped when Jared appeared at my side. He lifted a brow. “Figured you might want a fresh one.” He offered me a new beer. “That one’s gotta taste warm as piss by now.”

  I accepted the drink and set the other on the tall table next to me. “Thanks, man,” I said, appreciating the cool liquid slipping down my throat.

  We both turned our attention back to the dance floor. Jared sipped at his own beer, resting an elbow back on the table, his eyes sharp as he watched the vultures flock around the girls. Every douche bag in this place was dying to swoop their claws in, every calculated move they made bringing them one step closer.

  “Hate these kinds of holes,” Jared muttered on a grudging sigh. “Only reason any guy ever steps foot in a place like this is because he’s looking to get laid.”

  If it’d been up to us? This would have been about the last place on earth Jared or I would have picked to bring the girls. But they made it clear real fast that this was their night, and their night meant they wanted to go dancing, and dancing meant getting cozy with these assholes who were circling around them.

  I’d been that asshole plenty of times, and I knew exactly what scenario was playing out in their minds.

  “You and me both.”

  Some dickhead finally got brave enough and made his move. Edging up behind Samantha, he swept a hand down her side like he had a right to touch her, then pulled her back against his front.

  My jaw clenched just as tightly as the hold on my beer, my teeth grinding in my ears.

  Apparently dancing meant rubbing his dick all over her ass.

  I sent up a silent hallelujah when Samantha eased away and put some space between them, because this I could not handle. It was bad enough knowing she chose Ben, that somehow she’d ended up in his arms. But at least I didn’t have to see that shit.

  Which was just a blessing and a curse. The whole fact that Samantha was sneaking around, keeping it from Ben that she’d become friends with Aly. Quietly, almost as if she was humiliated about it, she’d mentioned she didn’t want Ben to know she’d reconnected with Aly, and it became clear she was making up excuses to hang out with her and in turn to hang out with me. Really quick I’d surmised that he’d been a dickhead, like I knew him to be. He either gave her a hard time about it or she knew from experience that he would if he found out.

  Plus side?

  I didn’t have to see the asshole with her.

  But the last few weeks had left me with all kinds of questions. Was she really happy with him? Did she really love him? Was he good to her? Good for her?

  Because if it was me, I couldn’t stand the idea of my girl not being able to be honest with me.

  Honestly, I couldn’t stand the idea of her not being my girl, but I’d come to the place where I knew I cared about her enough that I’d accept them being together if it was truly what she wanted.

  But then why was she doing this? A twenty-three-year-old woman having to lie about where she wanted to be? To a guy she wasn’t even married to?

  That was just uncool, wrong on a whole lot of different levels, and I hated the idea of her slipping back into the same kind of lies she’d had to spew in order to be with me back when we were in high school.

  But we’d been left without options.

  Was that her situation now? Was she being oppressed, shackled by others’ beliefs, pushed into what others thought was right for her life?

  Tonight, she most definitely didn’t look oppressed.

  She looked vindicated.

  Liberated.

  That same kind of beautiful that had knocked me from my feet when I was sixteen.

  My spirit thrashed. That’s what I really wanted. For this girl to be happy. For that light to shine. Bright and unrestrained.

  Since the day I’d met her, she’d been held down. I’d put bets down that the same kind of bullshit was happening in her life now.

  Ass bag behind her couldn’t seem to take a clue, and he edged in like he was determined to get some of that for himself.

  I shifted, trying to force myself to stand there and watch this when all I wanted was to rip his filthy hands from her.

  Jared chuckled low, tipping the neck of his bottle in my direction. “Now you know what that shit feels like.”

  I scowled in his direction. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He laughed a little louder. “Look at you, getting all pissed and fiery ’cause some punk-ass kid wants a piece of your girl.”

  “Not my girl,” I growled.

  “Yeah?” Jared challenged, the cut of his eyes angled in speculation. “And when’d that change? Because last thing I knew before I got my sorry ass dragged off to juvie, you couldn’t imagine living your life without that girl. Seems to me I missed some important details along the way. Considering how you want to climb out of your skin every time she’s around, I think it’s about time you filled me in.”

  Regret and frustration blistered below my skin, charged by this guy groping Samantha. Dude was about five seconds from getting his arms ripped clean from his body.

  “I happened,” I spat out. I drained my beer, swallowed hard, my words bitter. “And I guess I haven’t been doing a whole hell of a lot of that living since then, have I?”

  “So you gonna change that or do you plan to keep fucking your way through the city?”

  Incredulous, I glared over at him. My tone sharpened. “Pretty clear she’s moved on, isn’t it?”

  He glared right back. “Is it? Because the only thing that’s clear to me is th
ere’s some major unfinished business between the two of you.”

  I almost laughed. Yeah, Samantha and I had a whole ton of unfinished business.

  Samantha chose that moment to flick her eyes over to me, letting them slither down my body and back up in a slow wave. She rolled her hips. Dickhead behind her took that as an invitation, and he dug his fingers into her hips. She tried to maneuver out of his hold without making a big deal of it, but he made the mistake of tightening his grip.

  That was it. I snapped. My feet moved of their own accord, my destination clear.

  Not my girl? But she used to be, and I’d say in a situation as dire as this, that shit counted.

  So maybe Jared would be giving me hell for the rest of my life.

  She was worth it.

  I pushed through the throbbing crowd, going straight for her. Her eyes registered shock as I shoved my arm around her waist. My hand hit the smooth, bare skin, and every inch of mine lit.

  Goddamn.

  I tugged her forward. Over her head, I shot the douche a look that warned him to back the fuck off.

  Samantha floundered forward into my arms.

  She smelled good, just about as good as she felt.

  Then she giggled, reminding me of just how tanked she had to be with how much she’d had to drink. Wide, blurry eyes smiled up at me, a suggestion of a slur on her lips. “I think he liked me.”

  A quiet chuckle rolled from my tongue, my hold protective as I tucked her close, one hand secured to the small of her back, the other at the back of her head. She buried her face in my chest.

  “Sweetheart, pretty sure everyone in this club likes you,” I murmured at her ear, scrutinizing the crowd, gauging who I’d have to protect her from next.

  She clutched my shirt, the words strained. “You, too?”