Page 11 of Crusher

“Are we back to that? What does it matter?”

“Because I want to know if you liked my gift.” He lifts my chin, forcing me to stare into his eyes. “I want to know if you thought about me while you enjoyed it. Did you buy something sweet? Was it warm when you took it into your mouth? Did you savor every last drop like a good little girl?”

I shudder, remembering the slick glide of his frenum piercing as he rubbed the head of his cock across my lips. I’m captivated by his intense gaze as lust stirs in his amber eyes. Still, I’m not ready to give up the game. “No, I didn’t. I took one sip before throwing it away. It was horrible. But I did enjoy spending your money.”

I’m lying and he knows it. The glimmer in his eyes tells me so. That venti white mocha with an extra shot of espresso was fabulous and just what I needed to pick me up. And there was more than enough left over on the card for me to have another one this morning. In fact, I could probably buy three more. But that’s neither here nor there.

“There’s plenty more where that came from. As long as that perfect head of yours is thinking about me when you spend my cash, I don’t care.” He kisses the tip of my nose, then pushes off the loveseat before returning to his spot on the couch. He removes the takeout containers from the paper bag and spreads them out on the coffee table. “Come on, Trouble. Time to eat.”

This man is infuriating and these back-and-forth emotions are killing me. I try to regulate my breathing and slow my racing heart while glaring at the side of Crusher’s face. He looks completely unfazed and that pisses me off even more.

I walk to the kitchen, grabbing plates and forks, and two bottles of water, before returning to the living room and plopping down beside him. Then, suddenly, his head lifts, and he glances around the room with furrowed brows.

"What are you looking for?”

“Signs of a man.” He quirks an eyebrow at me.

Confused, I rear back. “What man?”

“The one I saw in your truck the other day.” His tone is almost accusing.

Then it dawns on me who he’s talking about and I laugh. “That was Kyle. My kid brother. He’s eleven. And he’s staying over at a friend's house tonight.”

He slowly nods as if filing away that information for later.

I look at the heaps of mouth-watering food laid out in front of us: pork vindaloo and chicken tikka masala, from my favorite Indian restaurant. An ache hits my chest and I feel my cold, black heart melt just a little. Even though we’ve only had a few hours together, he still remembers my favorite food.

Jerk.

“You okay?” He angles his head to see my expression as I sit next to him. I turn away, not wanting him to realize I actually do have feelings and emotions.

Then I clear my throat and grab a plate. “Shut up and eat your food.”

I stealthily glance at Crusher, whose eyes are fixated on the TV screen. We’re near the end of the movie I was watching when he barged his way in here. I thought it would annoy him to sit through a rom-com, but he hasn’t complained once. He even laughed at the funny parts and made comments about the actors. He’s definitely not like any other man I’ve ever met.

But any more of this closeness and I don’t know what I’m going to do. At some point, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, securely pulling me into his side. His thumb soothingly rubs along my skin, sending tingles throughout my body. He smells amazing, like a mix of cedarwood, spice, and citrus, and I’ve caught myself inhaling his scent more than once.

My body is tense and desperate for a release, so I squeeze my thighs together, praying he can’t smell my arousal. Because if he knows the effect he has on me, then I’m positive he’ll use it to his advantage. And I won’t be able to do a damn thing to stop him. I’m just a mere horny woman, sitting next to a sexy-as-fuck man. You’d do the same thing if you were in my shoes, and not a damn one of us could blame you.

Crusher interrupts my thoughts when he retrieves a small orange bottle from his pocket, twisting the cap and shaking out two pills into his palm.

“What’s that for?” I ask as he downs them with water.

“For my headache. Supposed to help with the concussion.”

Memories of yesterday’s events suddenly flood my mind. Pretty sure he should still be in the hospital after taking a spill like that. “Are you okay?”

He pauses, looking down at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m good.”

“Good.” I nod. “But you should probably take it easy until one of your friends comes to pick you up.”

His mouth twitches with mirth, yet he makes no move to call anyone for a ride home. He simply turns his attention back to the movie. I want to argue, tell him to get the hell out, but the words won’t come. Seeing him injured on the road brought a wave of buried emotions out of me, ones I sealed away long ago.

I look at the empty containers and dirty plates on the table, signs of a thoroughly enjoyed meal. Then I cast my gaze to Crusher, who appears more than comfortable on my couch and in my home. Almost as if he belongs here. With me.

I know it’s stupid pushing him away, and that I have to let someone in sooner or later. It’s harder to do than you would think, but I suppose I should take a chance at some point. Might as well be with the man I haven’t stopped thinking about for months. So I give up contemplating throwing him out on his ass and settle into the warm coziness of his hard, masculine body.

Minutes tick by and the movie ends. Then my stomach drops when I feel his fingers tease my bare leg beneath the hem of my shorts. His attention is still on the screen as the closing credits scroll, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning when his hand inches higher, stroking the lace trim of my panties. I swallow as my thighs clench, seeking more than just his light caresses.

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