Page 29 of Color of Love

Chapter 9

Blake was an idiot. What the hell was he playing at? Why was he taunting himself with her? Did she have any idea of the effect she had on him? The second she mentioned she had a date, his blood had boiled, anger lashing through him, jealousy bringing up the rear. But when she said she didn’t know what passion was? His blood had heated, ready to show her. He needed to be the one to show her, and he couldn’t stop himself from showing her the passion he felt for her.

He had gotten carried away. When she’d run her hands through his hair, he’d nearly taken her mouth right there whether she offered it or not. But was she offering it to him? No, of course she wasn’t, she was just humoring him. She was his psychologist, they couldn’t have that kind of relationship, which was why he was a fucking idiot for showing his hand. He always kept his cards close to his chest and now she knew he wanted her. Fuck.

He hit the steering wheel of his car in frustration. As soon as he’d seen her in that outfit, it was game over. The need to be close to her, to touch her, made him stupid. Thank God he’d come to his senses and got out of there before he did something he would regret.

He was sitting in his car, parked on his driveway, his anger coursing through him, along with white hot desire. Desire so strong he’d never felt it like this before. He only felt this way because he wanted her but couldn’t have her. If he had her it would go away. Maybe that’s what he needed, just have her once, get her out of his system. Or maybe he just needed someone else, to take the edge off. That had been his goal the other night at the bar, but he hadn’t been able to get his mind on anyone else but her. He needed to try again, to push himself to forget her.

He went inside his house, he stripped off his clothes and jumped straight in the shower, washing the day away, fighting his urge to reach down and give himself the relief he so desperately needed. He quickly dressed in clean jeans and a sweater, tugged on his black boots and leather jacket, and was soon back in his cruiser, heading for the Rusty Bucket Inn.

Anticipation flooded his veins. He tried to tell himself it was from looking for a woman to spend the night with, but he was lying to himself. He wanted to see Justine and see which man she was on a date with.

He pulled into the busy parking lot, forgetting it was Friday night which meant the place would be packed. He sat in the car for a moment taking deep breaths, his anxiety flaring up when he thought about how many people would be inside. The last few times he visited the bar, he’d managed to keep his cool but because he’d done well for so long it would be typical that he would have a relapse tonight in front of everyone. As long as he stayed calm and worked on the techniques Justine had shown him, then hopefully he would be fine. If he felt an attack coming, he would leave.

He took a deep breath and went inside. When he opened the door, the loud music hit him like a wall of sound. Rock music pounded out as couples danced up a storm and friends laughed and played pool.

He spotted Justine straight away, his eyes always drawn to her. She was sitting in a booth, chatting with her date. When she spotted him, she stopped talking mid-sentence and their eyes clashed together, sparks flying between them. His pulse pounded and he worked his jaw as she dismissed him, turning her attention back to her date. That’s your answer, she’s not interested in you, move on.

He flicked his eyes to the lucky man; it was the bald guy from the date night that he’d overheard asking her to be his sub. He frowned, what the hell was she doing with that guy? Considering she had so little experience with men, this guy was not the one she should be using to help her navigate her first sexual experiences. He shook his head and went over to the bar to get a drink, sitting at the opposite end, so he had a clear view of them.

“Hey B!” Taylor called skipping over to him. He wasn’t a fan of the nickname, but he let it go, seeing that she was one of the few people in town that he liked. He liked that she was honest and didn’t hide her emotions, what you see is what you get with Taylor, no bullshit.

“Evening Taylor, how you doing?”

“Better now I’ve seen you, sugar. Dean tells me you’re coming to the barbecue tomorrow night?” she asked, already pouring him a whiskey soda.

“He invited me. I haven’t made up my mind if I’m coming yet,” Blake replied, watching Justine over Taylor’s shoulder.

“That invitation has an expiry date, you know,” she tsked.

“Oh yeah?”

“Especially since Justine can’t make it, you’re not gonna bail on us too, are you?”

He turned his attention back to Taylor. Justine wasn’t coming now? He was equal parts annoyed and relieved. He wanted to spend time with her but also found it hard to be around her without needing to get his hands on her. He did want to spend time with the guys and what else was he gonna do on a Saturday night?

“You know what? Count me in,” he said, and Taylor fist-pumped the air and cheered. Justine looked their way, her eyes flicking between him and Taylor and she frowned, her expression turning stormy. Was she…no, could she be jealous? She turned her attention back to her date as another, much shorter, man came over to them. Blake watched them curiously. Justine’s date introduced them, they chatted for a moment, the shorter one giving Justine a once over before he went back to his table.

“Great, see you tomorrow at eight sharp,” Taylor said, putting his drink down on the bar in front of him, then she moved away to serve someone else. Blake turned his attention back to Justine. She kept glancing over at him and frowning. He was so busy watching her that he forgot he was here to look for a date himself.

He quickly surveyed the bar for potential single ladies before realizing he hadn’t done it when he came in. He hadn’t planned his escape route, hadn’t assessed any of the people inside the bar to see who could pose a threat. He was shocked; that wasn’t like him at all. He’d been so eager to see Justine, just to make sure she was okay on her date that he hadn’t done it. He quickly mapped it all out and then he realized there were no ladies in the bar that he was interested in, save for the one he couldn’t have.

Justine’s date got up and went to the bathroom. His short friend that came over to them earlier followed closely behind him. Something seemed a little off about it, Blake’s instincts cried out, so he decided to do a little detective work. He followed them both into the bathroom, lagging behind slightly to appear less suspicious. Both men were at the urinal when he walked in, so he went into one of the empty stalls and watched them through the crack in the door.

“I’m telling you man, she’d be totally up for it,” Baldy said.

“I don’t know, I’d rather she agreed to it upfront,” Shorty replied.

“You know chicks dig threesomes, and she looks like she’s seen some fun before,” Baldy laughed.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay when we leave, meet us in the parking lot and we’ll just feel her out, that mouth of hers tells me she’s down for whatever.”

Blake’s muscles tensed, anger pulsing through him and it took all his willpower not to rip the stall door from its hinges and beat them both with it. No way could he let Justine leave with these guys. They washed their hands and left. Blake followed them back out to the bar, and he watched as Baldy went back to Justine and Shorty hovered by the jukebox. Justine grabbed her purse and Baldy put his arm around her waist, leading her outside, winking back at his friend, who downed his beer and left the bar. Blake was right behind them.

He got outside and saw that Justine and Baldy were talking by her little Toyota and Shorty was making his way over to them. Blake needed a moment to think. He had to interfere, but he needed to not come across like the jealous asshole he was. An idea came to him, a devilish grin crossing his face and he eagerly headed over to them.

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