Page 17 of Broken Pact

Her chest rises, drawing my gaze to the glimpses of her tits through the slits in her tee. She drags the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. “I think you should worry less about cats and more about your pesky little stalking habit.”

My fingertips feather along the exposed patch of skin along her sides. I keep my voice low, just loud enough that she can hear me over the music. “There’s only one cat I’m worried about, baby.”

She rears back, stepping out from between my legs. Her trademark scowl has replaced that sort of lost and distracted look she was wearing so beautifully. She rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. “Are you making some kind of pussy joke?”

Two guys next to me turn to look at her, and I can’t even blame them. That doesn’t stop me from giving both of them a glare worthy of my Prez. He’s the grumpiest motherfucker I’ve ever met, and I learned how to imitate his infamous look years ago.

“Nah, I’d never joke about your pussy, baby. I don’t want her to get mad at me.”

Her hands fall to her thighs with a loud slap. She steps into me again, sparks of fire shooting from her eyes as she gets into my face. “Are you fucking kidding me? What are you even doing? We’re not together anymore.”

“And?”

“And—and?” she sputters. “And that means you can’t talk about my pussy!”

I drag my palm over my mouth and chin, pretending to think about it. “Can I talk to her?” I wait a beat and then waggle my eyebrows at her.

“Are you seriously asking me if you can go down on me at a public concert right now?” She’s looking at me like I’m insane. She’s not entirely wrong. I feel fucking wild when it comes to her. The insane need I have to rile her up, just to see what outlandish thing she does next.

“Raincheck?” I grin, enjoying the way her cheeks darken with blush.

She heaves a breath and this mask of calm flows over her face like some kind of puppetry. “You want to have your cake and eat it too, hm? Well too fucking bad.”

I lean back slightly, my smile turning into a smirk as I arch an eyebrow at her. “I always want to eat my cake, baby.” Especially when it tastes as perfect as she does.

Chocolate dipped cherries and cream.

Fucking delicious.

She takes another step backward, a mix of frustration and something else streaking across her face. “You’re infuriating!” she shouts over her shoulder, spinning around and jogging down the stairs.

Infuriating, huh? I rake my teeth over my bottom lip, a sad attempt at stopping my smile. I can work with infuriating. Love and hate are just two sides of the same coin, after all.

“Damn, dude. She shut you down hard, yeah? Don’t worry, we’ll make sure she’s taken care of tonight,” one of the dumbass guys next to me chimes in.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” I push to my feet and face the assholes. They’re snickering like they pulled a fast one or some shit. Instead of sending my fists flying, I grab the bartender’s attention and jerk my head toward the two guys. He nods his understanding, and before the next song starts, security is escorting them off the premises.

10

CORALINE

I’m so mad, I feel like I’m going to explode. I don’t even know what I’m that angry about.

Logically, I understand that I’m in a very public place in a neighboring town. It’s a coincidence, nothing more.

But emotionally, it feels like the universe is just fucking with me. Not only have I not gone on a single date since I ended things with Grant, but now I keep running into the man who broke my heart years ago. Which in the dating world is practically an eternity.

And I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that I forget all the reasons not to climb Jagger like a tree every time he gives me those bedroom eyes of his or the fact that I’m letting his presence get to me.

I hate that after all this time he still has such an easy way of affecting me. Embarrassment wraps around my neck like one of Nana Jo’s old mink stoles, squeezing tighter and tighter with every second that I remember how I leaned into him like some kind of heartsick fool.

Well, fuck that and fuck him. I’m no one’s fool. And I’ll be damned if I let a couple of dirty innuendos from Jagger ruin my night.

In fact, I’ve just decided that I’m going to climb someone else like a tree tonight, just to prove to myself that I can. Maybe that will get the Reaper out of my head. For good.

And if he happens to see me dancing with other guys tonight, then all the better.

Because underneath all that charm and good-natured humor is the same man who stepped out after I opened up about one small, little fantasy. Yeah, we were in a casual situationship, but we had the potential to be so much more. At least, I thought so.

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