Page 4 of Bangin': Knuckles Sexy Bites
One thing with Sanders, he may have never made a move on me before or shown the least bit of interest, but he does like to joke and kid around with me. I am, after all, like his sister. Gotta stay on my good side,right?
I want to laugh at my idiotic thoughts, but refrain and shake them away. They aren’t wanted orneeded.
I pull in a deep breath.This is it. I’m doingit.
Iam.
“Can you come in the back and help me withsomething?”
When his brow quirks, I wish I were a mind reader. Or maybe not, because he’s probably thinking:What in the hell is shethinking?
I’ve never asked him for help at the bar before, never even asked him to help me lift a glass, yet now I’m asking him to come to the back withme.
His eyes warm, and a glint forms in them that I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing before. I don’t focus on it, because it will totally throw me off track on what I want to dohere.
“Sure thing,” he finally says. This is it. Now or never, I fight to keep my nerveup.
I move toward the back of the club, and he follows me, not saying goodbye to the three women who were trying to get his attention tonight. A smile creeps in at that smallvictory.
I move through the people, leading Sanders back to my office. I can feel his eyes staring and burning me. When I open the office door and allow him to step through, I close it and lock it. No doubt he heard the latchengage.
“What’s going on, Jess?” he asks, resting his ass on my desk, arms crossed over his chest, and ankles crossed. He looks utterlydelectable.
While I would love to spend hours exploring him, this will have to do. It’s my only shot. My only chance, and I want to remember every second ofit.
Mentally, I pull up my big girl panties and walk up to Sanders, pulling out the sultry look I give guys when they have something I want. It’s a look I’ve never used on him, so I really don’t know how he will react, but we shallsee.
“I’ve been thinking.” I pause in front of him as he raises to his full six-foot-plus some height, uncrossing his arms and now looking down at me, eyes still holding that warmth and somethingnew.
“And what have you beenthinking?”
This is it. Do it… or bail. Fuck it. We only live once, and if I die tomorrow, I won’t regret this… unless he turns me down, that will be a bitch tohandle.
I grab his T-shirt with both hands, feeling the fabric tighten and stretch more tautly against his chest. Stepping closer to him, I raise myself up on my tiptoes until my mouth is only an inch from his, and whisper, “This.” Then I kiss him, putting all my pent-up sexual frustration into thekiss.
After a few moments of him not responding, I start to getflustered.
He’s not rejecting me… is he? Hecan’t.
I keep our lips pressed together, letting go of his shirt to thread my fingers through his hair, pressing my body flush to his. But no response fromhim.
Why is he not kissing me? What the hell iswrong?
Finally, I open my eyes, embarrassment consuming me as I pull away, seeing Sanders’ jaw is slack, his eyes focused onme.
He doesn’t want me. How does he not want me? This is Sanders. He’s bagged most of the town, something that should disgust me, but right now, it makes me feel like absolute shit. Worse than shit, whatever that is, because he doesn’t wantme.
I immediately pull my hands out of his hair feeling the rejection hard and step back, wiping his taste off my lips and onto my jeans. Tears threaten to spill, but are held back,barely.
Shit, shit, shit.In all the scenarios that ran through my head, this wasn’t one. Him rejecting me wasn’t on the list at all. It didn’t even enter my thought process when I came up with thisscenario.
“I…” I start, but then the hurt sets in deeper, gutting my heart and stealing the breath from mylungs.
After all the women he’s had,I’mthe one he rejects. I’m the one he doesn’t respond to. Fucking hell. What in the hell was I thinking going after him? Who in the fuck did I think I was? Temporary insanity, I’llclaim.
Turning away from him, I move quickly toward the door, placing my hand on the cool knob. It does nothing to cool the raging inferno of utter humiliation I feel. This is worse than any break up I’ve ever experienced, and we weren’t even dating. It was an obsession with him, one that needs to be laid to restnow.
“I’m sorry, Sanders.” My voice is so soft and unfortunatelycracking.
