Apparently, he had some sort of sixth sense because his eyes moved to my chest where they lingered on my tight buds pressing against the light blue halter top that had no barrier between them and the silky material. It was the audible growling rumble that sounded from deep within his throat that had me shaking myself from the lustful haze I was trapped in.
I opened my mouth to speak but he beat me to it. “A brunette and a redhead. Fuck, it’s my lucky night.” He smirked before glancing at the beautiful, flawless brunette sitting behind him.
Her unblemished looks had me suddenly feeling insecure about the few freckles that spread across my nose and checks, my breasts that barely fit a C cup, and let’s not forget about the extra ten pounds I’d put on in the past two months because of those damn fucking donuts.
Seriously! Who invented those evil globs of fried dough?
Just as I was making a vow to never eat another donut, he spoke again and when he did, no matter how absolutely fucking hot he was, it spoiled everything.
“Or,” he looked to me and went on, “if you’re not into that kinda thing, you can wait your turn.”
My body jerked back as if his words punched me in the gut. Blinking a few times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming this atrocious shit, I whispered, “Excuse me?”
His gaze fell to my high-heeled-powder-blue-sandaled feet, lingering for a second on the silver, interlocking heart ankle bracelet. His eyes then ran up my bare legs to where my A-line flowy white skirt—patterned with large baby blue colored diamonds—hit right above my knees, before they continued. As he progressed his complete inspection, his eyes landed on my breasts and he did that fucking lip biting thing again, and again, my traitorous body reacted to it, then his eyes finally met mine.
“Classy.” He winked and tipped his perfect pink lips up into a seductive grin.
Jesus! Focus, Madison!
Yes, I knew my attire wasn’t appropriate for this type of establishment which was the very reason I’d wanted to flee from the parking lot only seconds after entering it because I’d not been dressed fittingly. I made a mental note to chew out Gwenn for recommending this place.
What was she thinking?
Clearly, I understood her good intentions when she’d told me that while I had this time I should go out and enjoy myself. But what exactly did her definition of a “good time” really mean.
I mentally picked up all the melting pieces of my horny body, put them back into place, sat up straight and got to the real reason I’d come in here and asked, “You own the LC Construction truck?”
“I do.”
“Well…” I paused and felt the heat creep up my neck and into my cheeks.
He watched this process which was very visible against my light skin color. “Well, what?” he bit out, crossing his bulky arms across his equally massive chest.
As intimidating as his stance was, I sallied forth and started, “See…”
“I thought we were going to leave?” the brunette whined from behind him causing me to halt my words.
“You can leave,” he stated firmly, not giving her his attention.
“But,” she drawled out, “I thought we were leaving together?”
He slightly rotated his hips to look back at her. “Fucking leave if ya wan—”
“I hit your truck,” I blurted while he was speaking to her because if I didn’t say it in that second, I was going to chicken out and run.
He whipped around so fast that I was graced with an amazing spicy, woodsy scent that drifted up my nose and settled deep in my core. Hazy from the intoxicating scent the breeze formed, I watched as he shouted with heated eyes on me, “You fucking what!” then proceeded to take quick solid steps as he headed toward the door.
I shook off the fog and jumped down from the stool walking hastily as I tried keeping up with him, giving notice that his faded jeans encased his amazing ass just perfectly, all the while saying, “It’s not what you think.”
“For your safety, you better fucking hope not,” he said decisively as he effortlessly swung the door open so hard it hit the brick wall of the bar’s front. I swiftly slipped through it before it had a chance to close.
A cold shiver ran up my spine after For your safety reached my ears and sank into my brain on exactly as to what he was saying. Once we hit the gravel parking lot, my legs grew shaky and I had a hard time keeping up with his long strides in my heels.
“I’ll pay…”
“Yeah,” he came to a standstill, turned, ran his eyes down my body and when his hard eyes met my fearful blue ones, he stated suggestively, “you will.”
With his abrupt stopping, I stumbled when I came to a halt. He reached out and gripped my upper arm with his large hand, and I instantly felt the roughness of it against my smooth skin which caused a tingling sensation to run through my body and land in my belly. Thinking I’d try the nice approach, I hoped it might possibly calm him down.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
He glanced to where his hand was attached to my arm, and when his eyes came to mine the anger in them turned to a hardness that I couldn’t read and he let go. With no words, he started toward his truck and again I tried to keep up but this time with much more ease.
“See? Not too bad, right?” I asked when I caught up to our connecting cars while he inspected the damage.
“Move your car,” his deep, hard voice demanded.
I didn’t question him or say anything as I rushed to the driver’s side of my car, jumped in and quickly pulled forward then just as fast, got out of my car and walked back to him.
“Jesus!” he grated out as his eyes focused on his bumper.
Looking at it, I didn’t think it was all that bad as there was only a slight dent in it.
“Oh, it’s not too bad,” I whispered as I bent slightly at the waist to get a closer look.
“Not too bad?” he barked but didn’t let me answer. “You fucking dented my new truck, woman!”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized weakly as I stood up straight. “It was an accident.”
“You one of those rich bitches that only drives to the fucking salon and mall. Oh, and to have lunch with your equally rich, bitchy girlfriends?”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I snapped, appalled by how he assumed I lived my life.
“Brand new Buick Enclave, dressed all fucking classy and shit, says your husband is working his ass off to keep that shit going for you.”
“Fuck you!” I shouted then turned and stomped to my car where I retrieved my insurance information.
When I returned to the bed of his truck he had the tailgate down and was reaching for his back pocket. I flinched when he swiftly pulled his cell out and saw he’d detected my actions as he looked at me for a brief second. His eyes went to the phone in his hand, and, thankfully, he didn’t say anything about what he’d observed. I went to lay my documents on the bed of his truck, but my shaky hands dropped the papers to the ground causing them to scatter everywhere.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“For fuck’s sake just give me your number and I’ll text you my shit ‘cause I don’t have time for this,” he huffed with irritation.
At this point, I didn’t care about attaining his information. I just wanted to go home, crawl under my covers and cry myself to sleep like I normally did.
“Okay,” I said in a calm voice because I’d already checked out. My head was no longer in the present but swirled up in all the tragedy I’d endured in the past six months.
I gave him my number and after he typed it into his phone and slammed the tailgate closed, he pointed to the ground. “You might wanna grab your shit, Princess.”
“Oh!” I jumped.
Crouching down, I began to grab the papers up one by one feeling his heated glare burning into my back which was unnerving. To see if my instincts were right, I raised my eyes slowly, following his frame, and when they landed on his intense stare, a shiver ran down my spine. At that, he cocked
his head to the side cracking his neck, rolled his shoulders, let out an audible huff and turned and walked away.
Once I’d collected all my papers, I stood and looked his way to see him opening his driver’s side door. Glancing back, he gave me the same hard, unreadable look he had minutes earlier then got into his truck. The loud rumble of the engine starting caused me to take a few hasty steps back, and I stood there and watching him tear out of the parking lot causing bits of loose gravel to fly up into the air.
Asshole!
I got into my own vehicle, reached into my purse, found what I was looking for, and uncapped the bottle of water that was sitting in the cup holder. It was at that moment I realized my hands were still shaking, so I carefully removed a small, white pill from the prescription bottle, placed it on my tongue, waited until the bitterness reached my taste buds, then took a swig of the water to wash down the remaining remnants of the Xanax.
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Thursdays (The Wait Book 1) Page 15
