Southern Seduction (18 page)

He refuses to let Daniella reduce herself to stripping her clothes off in front of a crowd of men. She’s better than that. She’s beautiful and intelligent and
perfect
. It’s hard enough letting her walk around in the revealing cocktailer club attire. Indecently short booty shorts, fishnets, and a tank that puts the curve of her perfect breasts on display in the most infuriating way. He hates it, loathes it to his very core. And after tonight, there’s no way in hell he can allow her to walk out onto the club floor again.

“Darlin’, I think it’s time we get you to bed,” he whispers into her ear. Her body doesn’t budge an inch, her face plastered to the top of the arm of the couch.

Attractive? Not in the least.

But adorable? Yes. Always adorable. She could be wearing a paper bag and he’d still see her as nothing less than perfection.

“I was looking for you,” she mumbles

“On the couch?” he asks with hilarity in his eyes.

She nods sloppily, her hand brushing across her face carelessly. “Yep. You weren’t here.”

He chuckles lightly. “Come on, Daniella.” He takes her arm and wraps it around his shoulder, effortlessly lifting her off the couch and into his strong arms. Her tight body presses against his muscular chest.

“Penn?” she asks. Her voice is slurred and thick with sleep.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He continues his stride in the direction of his bedroom. His legs make quick work of the distance and head down the hallway of the small studio apartment that’s nestled discreetly in the back of Wild Nights. Penn has spent many nights here. Sometimes it’s just easier to crash here after a long night manning the club.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I’m putting you to bed.”

“Huh?” she asks in confusion.

“Hush, darlin’. Just close your eyes and rest,” he soothes as he makes his way into the bedroom.

The entire apartment is scarcely furnished. There really isn’t a need since Penn spends most of his time at his actual apartment in downtown Houston. A large king-sized bed and small nightstand are the only pieces of furniture in the nicely sized bedroom.

He tenderly lays her down on the black cotton sheets. Her beautiful body is on display in the most sensual way. His blue eyes can’t avoid it. Her years of dancing have kept her fit and toned. Her long legs are lean and even appear mouthwatering underneath his boxer shorts.
God, she’s beautiful.
She’s completely shitfaced, but she still manages to be the most exquisite woman he’s ever laid eyes on. His fingers itch to touch her. He has the urge to run his hands all over creamy skin. His dick twitches and aches from the sight of her. She’s the ultimate cock tease right now and she’s not even meaning to be.

“Penn,” she whispers breathlessly as she turns on her side.

He kneels down beside her and brushes a piece of her brunette hair out of her face. She nestles her cheek into the palm of his hand and a content sigh passes her supple lips.

Is she dreaming?

“Penn,” she whispers again.

“I’m right here.”

Her eyelashes flutter as she opens her eyes. Her brown gaze stares back at him. “What’s going on?”

“You passed out on my couch. I carried you to bed so you could sleep it off.”

“Oh.” Her lips form a tiny ‘O.’

He chuckles slightly at her surprised expression. “Just rest.”

“I’m pissed at you.”

His jaw drops in utter astonishment. “Excuse me?”

“I. Am. Pissed. At. You.” She pronounces each word with precision, leaving out the drunken slur.

“Easy, darlin’. You’re drunk and you’re walking a fine line of saying things you won’t be able to take back,” he admonishes with a stern tone.

“Fuck. You.”

Even drunk, she’s still got more attitude than is good for her. He can feel the anger rising slightly, irritation inching into his bloodstream. “I think we need to sober your ass up before you start spouting off more bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit if it’s one hundred percent the truth. You’re an asshole.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be?”

She nods with two careless movements as she attempts to sit up on her elbows.

“Fine. Let me help you out,” he adds before reaching down and throwing her over his shoulder, her curvy little ass resting just underneath his chin.

“You asshole!” she shouts in anger. Hatred and irritation and absolute rage boil to scalding temperatures underneath her skin.

“
Fuck you? Asshole?
You’re really on a roll tonight, Daniella.” He smacks her ass just for good measure. The audacity of her, drunk or not, for spouting off insults at him. He’s done nothing but protect her, but try to help her out without her having to strip naked in front of strangers.

“Fuck! You!” she screams louder, her voice bellowing throughout the apartment.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” he replies with mild irritation as he walks into the bathroom, promptly turning the shower on and setting her inside. Ice-cold water blasts over her petite frame, soaking her clothes and drenching her hair.

“AHHH!” The shocking temperature has her instantly shivering and sobering up at a surprisingly quick pace.

“Stay in there until you sober up. Then we’ll talk,” he instructs as he sits on the toilet seat, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands. Ten fingers run through his hair in frustration.

“God, I hate you. I fucking hate you,” she spits with a hateful tone.

That’s his breaking point.

He’s on his feet and inside the shower before he can even process his actions. His strong arms grab her by the shoulders and lift her to her feet. His large body crowds her in the small space. Her back is pressed against the wall as water continues to stream over them. They’re both still dressed, but it seems to be the last of their concerns. He leans in and presses his forehead against hers, their lips nearly touching.

Her chest moves up and down violently with erratic breaths. “W-what are you doing?” She stumbles over her words. His close proximity overwhelms her and throws her equilibrium out of whack.

“I’m just seeing how much you hate me. Isn’t that what you just said? ‘
I fucking hate you’
?” He throws those vile words back at her. “So show me. Prove to me how much you fucking hate me.”

She smacks him right across the face, her foggy brain getting clearer by the minute.

“Is that all you’ve got? I’m not convinced. This isn’t hate, Daniella. This is something completely different.” He slides his hand up to her neck; his thumb rubs over her hammering pulse point. “Your heart is racing.” His hand slips down to her chest, nestling itself between her breasts. “Your chest is heaving frantically.” A whimper escapes her lungs. Her nipples harden instantly from his touch. Her eyes grow hooded and heavy. “So what is it, Daniella? Is it hate or is it something else entirely?”

She tries to push him away with both hands, but he grabs her wrists and holds them above her head. Their chests press against each other. Her puckered nipples poke through the material of the wet t-shirt. She can’t stop the shudder that racks through her body when she feels his hardened cock thrust into the apex of her thighs.

“Yes,” she moans in a raspy tone, her head falling back against the wall.

“Yes to what? Yes you hate me or yes you want me?” he questions with a low growl. His hips swivel against her, his hot and hard body intoxicating all of her senses.

“Yes.” Another moan leaves her perfect lips.

His ice-blue eyes stare down into hers as he lets go of one of her wrists to grab ahold of her chin. “Open your eyes,” he demands, and she does without even thinking. Her chocolate orbs are glazed over with pure, unadulterated lust and it’s the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. “Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you, Penn.”

“Fuck, you make me crazy,” he groans before crushing his mouth to hers.

His tongue slips past her lips and tastes every inch of her mouth. His kiss is deep and penetrating and has her core throbbing for more. He continues his assault, licking and biting and sucking at her lips. He ravages her mouth and her only response is to moan sighs of pleasure against his possessive lips.

His hands tear the t-shirt off of her body, leaving her breasts bare and on display. His talented hands caress the supple curves. His fingers knead and pluck and tweak her nipples until they are harder than they’ve ever been.

“You are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met,” he growls before sliding a nipple into his hungry mouth. He sucks the hardened peak, keeping her on the edge of pleasure and pain. It’s completely maddening and making her desperate for more, desperate for him. “Tell me why you want this,” he urges as he moves to the other breast, his magical tongue doing unimaginable things.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes. You. Do. Tell me, Daniella. Why do you want this?”

Her drunken brain takes over. The shower obviously wasn’t enough to sober her up, and both of them realize this when she answers with, “Because I want you to feel the way you made me feel three years ago. I want to take everything from you and walk away. I want to crush you the way you crushed me.”

Penn stumbles back from the horrible words. His breath is pushed out of his lungs with a shocking exhale. His gut feels like she just sucker-punched him. Anguish etches his face in a painful expression. Her words. Her hurtful words.

How can he ever recover from those?

And is that how she really sees that night?

That he just took everything from her with the intention of walking away. Like he just used her, cut her, tore her to pieces on purpose.
God, that fucking hurts.
He left because he had to leave. He wasn’t in a good place, and that was made even more obvious when he took advantage of her. She was barely eighteen and she was a god damn virgin. He took her innocence because he was a bastard. A bastard who couldn’t resist her. He couldn’t resist her because she’s always been the most beautiful girl—
now woman
—in his eyes.

But she wasn’t a woman back then. She was a girl. She was young and innocent and naïve, and she didn’t need a guy like him in her life. He was at his lowest. And for one night, she took all of his pain away, but that’s not the kind of life she deserved. She deserved better than that. She deserved someone who wasn’t fucked up and spending most of his nights with his face in a bottle of whiskey.

She stands frozen in place, her back still against the shower wall as water continues to stream over her beautiful body. Her eyes are wide and her chest continues to heave up and down.

“Is that what you think that night meant to me?” he asks quietly after he regains the ability of speech.

She just stares back at him. Not a single word comes out of her mouth.

“That night meant everything to me, Daniella.
Everything
. I just knew I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t deserve your sweetness. I didn’t deserve your heart.”

“But I gave it to you anyways,” she says in a pained voice, tears filling her eyes.

A choking noise escapes his throat. The unbearable pain on her face is too much. “I was fucked up back then. I spent most of my nights drowning my sorrows into a bottle of Jack. My parents’ deaths screwed with me in the worst kind of way.” He hangs his head in shame. “I was fucked up that night. You gave yourself to me and I was drunk. I was out-of-my-mind drunk and I took that from you. I’m a fucking bastard who didn’t deserve that part of you, but I took it. I took it because I wanted you and I didn’t want anyone else to have you. I was selfish. So god damn selfish.”

She steps out of the shower, water dripping off of her and landing on the tile floor in puddles. Her hand reaches out and touches the stubble on his cheek. After a few silent moments, his eyes lift and meet hers. “You didn’t take it, Penn. I gave that part of myself to you because you were the only man I have ever loved.” She swallows back the tears that clog her throat. “And I knew you were drunk. I was drunk too. That’s why I did it. The alcohol made me brave, gave me the courage to do something I was desperate for. I was so desperate to be with you. It’s all I could think about. God, I loved you.” She takes a heavy breath. “I still love you,” she whispers as her chocolate eyes stay locked with his. “I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped. When you left, a part of me died. It was unbearable and I’ve never been able to move past it.” Tears slip past her eyelids and relief fills her heart. The words that have been locked up for the past three years are finally spilling free.

An erratic breath releases from his lungs, his body still tense, his face still etched with agony. Even after the words she just spoke, he still can’t get over her initial reaction to him. The painful words she said. It made him realize just how badly he had hurt her. His walking away didn’t help anyone. Yes, it helped him get his life together, but it only spurred his aching desperation for Daniella to burrow deeper inside of his soul and it had broken her, crushed her, and destroyed her in the worst kind of way.

She sees the tension, the acute pain in his demeanor and finds herself wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes, and embracing him. His arms remain still at his sides for a few seconds before wrapping around her waist and crushing her body to his in a breath-stopping grip. She buries her face into his chest and breathes him in.
His familiar scent
. It is the only scent that has the power to soothe her while simultaneously igniting a fire in her belly.

“
Penn
,” she whispers.

He leans back and gazes down at her, his trembling hand tilting her chin up. His eyes are hooded, his thick lashes accentuating their blueness. A quaking breath spurs from inside of her and releases from her lips in a whimper. He moves his hands to cup her face as he slants his head, bringing their lips together.

He kisses her. Not a soft and sweet kind of a kiss. A raw, hungry, desperate, and wild kind of kiss. The kind of kiss that makes a woman forget the past, the present, and the future. His tongue explores her mouth, tasting every inch of her delicate lips and tongue. A wildfire explodes inside of her belly, igniting every single molecule of her body, urging her to let go.