Page 148 of American Hellhound
“I guess it’s okay, then. I don’t mind being scary sometimes.”
His smile softened, bashful. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweet boy. Sleep tight.”
“G’night.”
She walked to the master with a full heart, warm and smiling to herself…and even more sure about what she had to do now. When she first left home, it was personal; it was what she had to do for her. But now, her concerns weren’t just immediate, but big picture, and she had more than herself to worry about.
Ghost was fresh from the shower, skin flushed from the hot water, hair damp and slicked back from his face. He was in black boxers, towel around his shoulders, farmer’s tan and ink on display.
Maggie leaned back against the door after she shut it, admiring. Just the sight of him elevated her heartrate, and she let herself enjoy it. Right now, in this moment, without a restaurant full of onlookers, without the club, or her classmates, or her mother, or Aidan, alone with him, she looked her fill. The flex of muscle as he scrubbed his hair with the towel, tattoos leaping, shadows painting deep grooves between his abs.
Most days, she was too busy worrying about all the bumps in the road ahead to be a properly smitten teenage girl mooning over a cute boy. So right now, she was taking the chance to feel like one. Drool a little.
Because…
Damn.
He balled up the towel and threw it in the hamper; it unfurled at the last minute, landing half-in and half-out. Ghost said, “Ah, fuck it,” and left it there, turning to face her, expression going from curious to smug. He rolled his shoulders, shifted his hips, and went from sleepy to posed, in full CK model mode. “See something you like?”
She tried and failed not to laugh. “Oh my God, that isa line.”
He gave her a wicked grin and prowled up to her, crowding her against the door. He braced his forearms on the door, leaned in until they were pressed together. She could feel the heat of him through her clothes.
“Is it working?” he asked, voice a low, throaty whisper.
She shivered. “A little bit.”
He curled his hips, tucking into her belly. “Just a little bit?” Right in her ear, gust of hot breath, nip of his teeth against her diamond stud.
She shivered again and pressed into him, t-shirt gluing itself to his damp stomach. “Okay, working a lot. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Hmm,” he hummed against her neck. “That sounds a lot less fun than what I had in mind.”
“Trust me, I know.” He was getting hard, and his boxers were doing nothing to hide it. Her hips twitched, an involuntary seeking of friction. But she put a hand on his hot, slick chest and pushed him back. Tried to – he resisted. “Ghost, come on.”
He heaved an exaggerated sigh and eased back a fraction, giving her an unimpressed look. “Fine.”
“When you pout you look like Aidan.”
“I always look like Aidan.”
“Yeah, but when you pout you lookeight.”
He stuck out his lower lip.
“Okay stop, stop. I’m trying to be serious.”
“You gonna go shank some Girl Scouts if they don’t get off your turf?”
“Ghost.”
He chuckled. “Alright, fine. Okay. I’m listening.”
She felt her smile slip. He wasn’t going to like this plan of hers, not at all, and dropping it on him was going to ruin this playful mood.
“What?” he asked, expression going concerned.
