Tied - Part One (9 page)

“No. I’ve got a volunteer thing that should happen soon, but…” I shrugged. “I think I need to look for some night jobs to make a little more cash for the time being.” I hated to ask him. I cringed as the words came out. “Do you or Mallet know of anything?”

“Like the jobs that we do?” he asked. “We can hook you up, sure, but the pay is shitty and it’s all dead-end stuff. You won’t score a teaching gig by selling t-shirts.”

“I know,” I said, “But my savings won’t last forever.”

“We’ll talk to our guy,” Lockett said. “But don’t give up.”

“I’m not giving up. I’m being realistic. It’s a bad time of year. I’ll probably be able to find a summer camp job once May rolls around, and I’ll have better luck with the schools once the new year starts in September.”

He scooted his chair closer, around the corner of the table so that his knees were touching mine. “Sounds like a good plan,” he said, “We’ll hook you up.”

“Thank you,” I said, “I know it’s a lot to ask. You already got me this job.” I waved at the room.

“Why not do more of this?” he asked. “Lisa might have friends.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that. “It’s not a bad idea.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty brilliant.” He sat up, puffing out his chest like some bird showing off. “Come to me with all your problems, I’ll sort them out in no time flat.”

“Well,” I said, looking away. My mind was brought back to the other night again. He hadn’t been interested in my problems, then. “I appreciate it.”

“Hey.” He touched my shoulder and I flinched. “You’re upset about something. Come on. I meant what I just said, you can tell me.”

Even his voice was a turn-on, so deep and rumbly, a little bit commanding and a whole lot masculine. It was hard to refuse him.

“The other night,” I said, “When I showed you my chip…”

“Ahh.” He sat back in his chair. “Like I said, it was a little heavy.”

“I know, but it’s an important part of me. I opened up and you just shut down. You wouldn’t do that to one of your friends, would you?” He shook his head slowly. “I thought we were getting to be friends, at the very least. We do live together.”

“But honey,” he said, “I don’t kiss my friends like that.”

“Then what are you doing?” I could see it - I could see him shutting down, turning away and tuning out.
Typical man. The minute you talk about feelings, they just want to flee
. But I pressed on. I had to get it out there. “All I’m trying to say is that if you’re just toying with me, if you’re just messing with me for the fun of it, please don’t.” His eyes were locked on mine, now. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. I’d said too much, I felt way too exposed. “It just isn’t very nice, that’s all,” I said, turning away.

“If it seems like I’m messing with you, it’s only because you’re fun to mess with. Katherine.” He cupped my chin and turned me toward him. “I don’t want to hurt you and I’m not just toying with you. I… I’m enjoying your company. That’s all.”

“Okay.” I sounded a touch breathless. It was hard to keep my composure with his hand on my face, his thumb slowly stroking my jaw. “Good. So, truce? Friends?”

He shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t kiss my friends like that.”

I trembled. Was he going to kiss me again? I craved it - craved more. My hand rested on his wrist but I didn’t push him away. “Then what am I?”

That arrogant smirk spread over his face. “A good luck girl?”

I slapped his hand away. I should have seen the joke coming, it was written all over his face. He’d as much as said that he enjoyed teasing me. But I was still outraged. “I am NOT-”

His lips crashing into mine cut off the rest of my sentence. My chair scraped the floor as his impact drove me back. Sharp intakes of breath - both his and mine - filled my ears and made my toes curl.

This kiss wasn’t like the others. His tongue plunged inside my mouth and slicked along mine with possessive swipes.

Bad. This is bad
. Warmth and yearning stormed inside of me. I clawed at his back, drawing him closer as my chair leaned back. When he groaned into my mouth, I thought I would melt into a puddle right there.

I tipped further back. Suddenly I was sliding. My arms pinwheeled and my feet kicked out as the off-balance chair finally started to fall over - but Lockett caught us. Me and the chair both. He chuckled as he placed us back upright and sat back in his own seat.

“That was… enthusiastic,” I said, straightening the hem of my sweater. Why, oh why hadn’t I dressed a little nicer? Not that he seemed to mind, but still, a nice outfit never hurt anyone’s confidence. “Not very friendly.” I flashed him a smirk of my own.

“Yeah? Just wait until I get you home. I can be plenty friendly.”

I bit my lip, My body pulsed and buzzed with anticipation but my mind was a tangle.
Should I, shouldn’t I, how will I feel tomorrow if I let this go too far, how will I feel tomorrow if I don’t.

I wanted him. Every sharp line and hard plane, every tanned and inked inch of him. My eyes flickered toward his crotch with a mind of their own, betraying my thoughts.

He chuckled. “Come here.”

There was no resisting his command when he sounded so confidently seductive. I rose as if pulled to my feet by strings, stepped between his knees as if under a spell.

He took my hand and placed it over his bulge.
Whoa
. My lips parted and I gasped softly, rubbing him through the rough material of his jeans. He was big - not that I was surprised, but to actually feel him, so incredibly hard beneath my hand, was much different than imagining. Much better. And far too tempting.

“I don’t do this,” I whispered.

“No?” His voice was a tease. He lifted his hands and placed them behind his head. “Mallet did warn me. He said I should keep my hands to myself if you tell me to leave you alone. Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” I nodded, because it was what I was supposed to want. But my hand was still exploring his hardness through his pants. I squeezed my thighs tight against the growing need in my core. It clawed at me, desperate and starving for what I held.

He pumped his hips up against my palm, just once, his eyes ablaze. “You don’t want this?” That hint of amusement in his voice should have been infuriating but I was lost in my fever.

“I don’t.” I traced the ink that marked his inner arm, unable to resist touching him more, despite my words. “I don’t do things like this. I want to do things right. I want to date and get married and have babies with a nice boy. Not this.” I pressed my cheek to his and inhaled deeply.

“I’m nice.” His hands remained behind his head. I didn’t know if that was kind or cruel.

“No you’re not, you make fun of me, and-” I gasped. He pumped his hips again, more subtly this time in a continuous, sensual movement, silently suggesting what he really wanted to do.

I felt dizzy, drunk with need.
Dangerous
. Wasn’t I supposed to be resisting my body’s cravings? I wasn’t supposed to trade one vice for another.

But what a vice.
Maybe just one night
. His hazel eyes watched mine for a reaction as his arms wrapped around me.

“You think too much.” Maybe I did but my thoughts weren’t making a lot of sense right then. “It’s just sex. I’ll make you feel really good, sweetheart. You won’t regret it.”

“And then?”

His warm hands splayed over my back and pulled me tight against his body.

“And then what?” I felt him shrug more than saw him. “Tomorrow doesn’t exist yet. Don’t worry about tomorrow.”

I already knew what it was like to pretend that “tomorrow” didn’t matter, that “tomorrow” wasn’t a concern and didn’t even exist. It was a bad philosophy, a bad way to live.

But I knew this burning inside of me wouldn’t fade, not tomorrow and not anytime soon if I didn’t quench the flames somehow. He tugged me closer and his hardness pressed against my abdomen. A sound like a moan slipped from my mouth - and he captured it with his.

I was trapped. Tomorrow wasn’t going to feel good no matter which choice I made. My sponsor wouldn’t approve. Alexa wouldn’t approve.

But his lips promised a pleasure I’d never truly known, more intense than I’d ever felt.

“Okay,” I whispered against his kiss. My knees trembled. My fingers curled in his shirt, grasping at him as if reality itself was slipping away. Giving in felt right. I needed this. “Okay.”

CHAPTER 8

I’d lived with Lockett for two weeks already, I realized, but I hadn’t seen the inside of his room at all. The door was situated on the opposite end of the living room from mine, further down the small hallway than the bathroom, so I’d simply never passed it by.

I learned a lot about him simply looking around inside. He collected records - they filled one horizontal shelf that nearly took up a whole wall. There were framed photos of his family hung haphazardly on the opposite wall. He had a colorful beta in a little fish tank - how did I live with him and not know that he had a fish?

I guess we hadn’t really talked very much. We’d danced around our attraction to each other without really getting to know each other.

Now wasn’t the time for that, anyway. He traced my hips as I took in his room - then he walked me forward and shut us inside.

“You’re nervous,” he said. His hands skimmed just under my sweater, tracing my belly. I leaned back against his chest.

“A little.”

“You don’t need to be. I won’t hurt you. I would never.” He exhaled a hot breath along my neck, then kissed the spot softly. My hands locked over his forearms. It was like gripping iron bars.

“I’ve never done this sober,” I whispered. I was afraid that my admission would scare him off, but it was important to me that he knew for reasons I couldn’t quite explain.

Thankfully he didn’t make a big deal out of it. “We’ll take it easy,” he said, and then he was tugging my sweater up and over my head, leaving me in my bra.

I turned and went for his shirt, next. That was something I did know about him - he liked to hang out around the apartment with his shirt off. At first I’d thought it was to torture me but it turned out it was just his way.

Not that I minded. The man’s body was a work of art. I trailed my fingers down his tanned skin, savoring his heat, loving the way his hard muscles tensed even harder beneath my touch.

I reached around and skimmed his broad back with my nails. He shuddered. “Mmm. That’s nice.”

Slowly, softly, he kissed me. He’d meant it when he said he would “take it easy.” His fingertips grazed my back more gently than I would have imagined he could, big brute of a man that he was. He unhooked my bra and teased my shoulder straps down my arms.

“Let me see,” he rumbled, moving me back a step. I whined at the loss of his kiss, but I did as he said, letting my bra drop the rest of the way down my arms and flutter to the floor.

I wanted to shrink away beneath his gaze, but I resisted. The way his eyes drank in the sight of my bare breasts held me right in place. I’d never been self-conscious in the bedroom before, but as I’d told him, I’d never been sober, either. This was a whole new experience - being looked at, feeling wanted.

I reached for him. He took my hand and backed me up through his room until my knees hit his mattress. I scrambled back across the bed, drawing him after me, savoring his hungry gaze.

He cupped my breasts with a groan, enveloping them in the warmth of his palms. I wasn’t a well-endowed girl, but he showed no sign of caring or even really noticing. He squeezed them gently, brushing my pink nipples with his thumbs until they tightened into hard peaks.

“Lockett.” I realized I was panting. My back arched as I strained into his touch, seeking more.

He gave it to me. He leaned in and attacked my neck as he squeezed my breasts more firmly, his breathing sounding as ragged as mine. I scratched his back again and he groaned.

“I’m trying to play nice but you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he said.

“That’s fine,” I said softly, “I can handle a little crazy.”

He leaned up and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?” He tore at the button of my jeans and yanked them down, hard, barely giving me enough time to lift my ass off the mattress. “You can handle crazy?” My pants reached my sneakers, and he yanked them all off together in a tangled ball. I giggled as he struggled to get it all off my feet.