Page 13 of Beyond the Bright Lights

“You have to stop drinking. Can you do that?”

I freeze at her words, my hand on the doorknob. “I can try.”

“I’m not going to be your babysitter.”

The heels of her boots click on the patio as she walks to me. I drop my arm and turn to face her. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’ll do it, okay? Not for you. For Tyler.”

My face lights up, and I can’t help myself. I scoop Lana up in my arms and kiss her. My lips are like a starved animal, sucking her bottom lip and garnering a breathy moan. A moan that begs for me to devour her. The moment she opens her mouth, I slip my tongue in. She tastes so sweet, better than I imagined. I hum and the arm I have wrapped around her tightens. I press into her, my cock hard against her stomach.

Wrong move.

She stills and pulls back.

And slaps me.

I cover the sting where her palm landed.

“The fuck?” she says through clenched teeth.

“I . . . Sorry, um . . . sorry . . .” I stumble over my words, wrecked with confusion.

“I did not give you permission to kiss me.”

She didn’t. I stole that kiss. But her body liked that kiss. I wasn’t about to say that out loud, though, because I still had no right.

It wasn’t right, but I don’t regret it.

“Do not. Kiss me. Again.” She points her finger at me, beyond pissed, and I smile because it’s so damn adorable. My smile only angers her more. “You know what? I changed my mind. This is a bad idea.”

Crap. I’m losing her again. I won’t even try to butter her up this time.

“Bad idea for who? You? Why is that Lana?”

She pauses, maybe not expecting that response from me.

I shrug. “Maybe you're just not used to doing bad things.”

She narrows her eyes. “I never said I was good.”

Fuck.

She takes a menacing step to me. “You better listen up, Kid.”

There she goes throwing out that word again.

“The moment you fuck up, I’m out. No drinking, no drugs, and don’t you go around sticking your dick where it doesn’t belong. This is a small town. We are not your playground.”

“No sex? Seriously?”

She stares blankly at me. “Is that not one of your vices? Is that not one of the reasons you listed on why you went to rehab?”

I can’t help running my eyes up and down her body again. I’ve done it three or four times now since we’ve met. She tenses, squeezing her legs together and I chuckle. “Oh, no. I don’t want to be rehabilitated for my sex addiction.”

“You’re a pig.” She rolls her eyes and pushes me out of the way to go back inside the bar.

“So, you’re saying you didn’t enjoy that kiss?”

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