Page 34 of Hyde

After he grabs a beer, he pauses to mix some of the vodka with a ginger ale and bring that to where I’m already seated on the couch.

“Contributing to the delinquency of a minor?” I raise an eyebrow at him, taking a sip.

“Eighteen’s old enough. Besides, I’vecontributedto it a dozen times over the past few days,” he responds with a growl which quickly turns into a laugh as I straddle his lap the moment he sits down.

“Joe,” I say his name hesitantly, feeling a little insecure. Especially after he grunts. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Looking me square in the eyes, he leans in to lightly kiss my lips. “No. You’re kind of a troll.”

“Asshole!” I growl, and shove at his chest.

“Yeah, I mean, I think you’re dynamite in the sack, but your legs are too long.” His left arm has me trapped, while he takes a long sip of beer with his free hand. “And your hair, I mean the way the sun hits it, suddenly the light red bits make you look like a ginger instead of a blonde. Just makes it hard to look at you.”

“Oh, really?” I try to sound annoyed even though I’m starting to get into hisinsults. “At least I’m funny, I guess.”

“No, you really aren’t.”

“All of my friends laugh at my jokes,” I insist, taking a sip of my drink.

“Nah, you laugh like a hyena, so they’re all just laughing at you.”

There may be a little bit of truth to this comment, but only when something super funny happens.

“And this ass?” he continues, squeezing the asset in question. “Well, never mind, it would be rude of me to comment.”

“Oh, I think we’re past that,” I drawl out, shifting my butt back into the palm that’s now kneading it. “But I do have perfect vision.”

“Yeah? Do you think I’m good-looking,” he asks me, his voice suddenly all deep and sultry.

“Absolutely,” I whisper, leaning toward his mouth again.

“Then you’re probably half-blind on top of everything else.”

I bite his lower lip. “Are my teeth too sharp?”

“As a matter of fact, they are,” he replies, holding his beer bottle against the spot I bit.

“You best keep that in mind, Old Man,” I warn him in my sweetest voice as I reach over to take another sip of my drink.

“I know damn well, you’ve been told you’re beautiful—either in words, or the looks men give you—every day of your life. You’re also way too smart to think that looks truly matter to any man worth a damn,” Joe tells me, putting his bottle down to free his hand, wrapping it through my hair in a grip as firm as his words. “Now put your glass down and kiss me properly, Ol’ Lady.”

With that, I get a feel for how my life with Joe will be.

From how he expects me to know that he finds me attractive, to teasing me, to fucking me hard and rough up against the kitchen counter, to now.

When he’s got me flat on my back, kissing his way down my body, slowly exploring my birthmarks, freckles, and scars. I groan in frustration, when instead of proceeding down past my hips, he flips me over and meticulously starts back up at my hairline.

“I don’t know why it always made me smile when this strawberry mark would darken,” he whispers against the mark on the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to break out all down my arms.

“Probably because that happens when I get mad,” I answer him.

“Or when you’re laughing so hard you start to snort.”

I grunt, wanting to pretend that I don’t snort when I’m laughing my ass off, but he’s not wrong.

“Will you get bored with me? Since you know all my secrets already?” I ask him, keeping my voice soft to hide my emotions.

“I may know your stories, Le-Lee,” he replies, pulling me tighter into his embrace and tucking his chin into my neck. “But your thoughts and what guides your heart? Those’ll take a lifetime to ferret out.”

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