Page 44 of Ward Willing
“Are you okay to drive? We can always get a cab,” she says, buckling herself into her seatbelt.
“I had two sips of my beer,” I tell her, placing my arm on the back of her seat as I reverse out of the parking space.
“You didn’t like it?” she asks.
I’m so distracted trying to reverse out of the tiny parking space that I don’t think before I answer honestly. “I never drink when I know I’m going to have to drive you. I’d rather not chance it.”
Also, the last time I got drunk around you, I lost control.
As I pull out of the parking lot and onto the main road of downtown Crestwood, the silence is stifling. I keep my eyes forward as my hands grip the steering wheel tightly. The tension is palpable as we make our way to the seedy area of the valley where the venue is located.
Zoe breaks the silence as I park in the very back of the lot. Her voice trembles slightly as she looks forward.
“Thank you,” she says softly. “I know you gave up a lot when you became my legal guardian, and I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“It was never a problem to look out for you, Zoe. It’s second nature now,” I say nonchalantly.
“That’s almost worse,” she whispers. “You’re so used to taking care of me that you can’t enjoy a beer when you’re talking to someone.”
She stops herself and looks out of the passenger side window. I use the opportunity to drag my eyes over her face and outfit. Over her brown hair, loose and wavy around her face. How her bangs are parted in the middle. How her lips look like they’re always pouting. Then I let my eyes drag over myfuckingshirt hanging off her narrow shoulders. A dark red satin and lace strap is visible, and I so badly want to see what she has on under my shirt—the same shirt she tucked into the smallest skirt imaginable. I mean, I think I havesocksbigger than her skirt. And her legs and that tan skin in those fishnet stockings…
I have to look away as my hands curl around the steering wheel to keep from touching her leg. “I wasn’t interested in her.”
When Zoe glances at me, her eyes are wide and curious. “I just assumed.” She swallows, and I watch the way her delicate throat bobs. “Also, I’m sorry I forgot it was your birthday. What do you want?”
“Want?” I ask.
Iwantto trail my fingers between her legs, using her own wetness as lube.
Iwantto lick my way across her collarbone.
Iwantto watch her fall apart on my tongue again.
“What do you want for your birthday?” she clarifies.
I want you to show me how well you’d submit to me.
I almost say it.Almost.My mouth opens, ready to admit that I wanther.All of her.
That nothing will top my birthday last year, because I got to spend it inside of her.
My lips snap shut, and I close my eyes briefly. “Nothing in particular.”
My pulse quickens as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Something intoxicating simmers in the air around us. How thefuckdid I let this happen again? Whatever is going on between us feels like a delicate dance that neither of us knows the moves to. Like somehow, whatever raw and unspoken desire between us is all coming to a head right this very instant.
Again.
“We should head inside,” she says quickly, opening her door before I can reach over and do it for her.
She walks a couple of feet in front of me as we weave through the parking lot to the back door of the venue. I scowl as Zoe bumps her fist with the burly security guard, and he gives me a curious look as I follow her through the double doors. I shoot him a warning glare as we make our way backstage.
“I’ll go find us seats.”
She laughs as she turns to face me. “Seats? It’s standing room only.”
Lovely.I guess I should’ve known that, but I’m out of practice.
“Fine. I’ll go find us?—”
