Not Just Friends (Hot in the City #3) - T. Gephart Page 0,26

sleeping together had done damage, no doubt about it, but I wasn’t willing to put any more cracks in those foundations.

“You’d back off?”

“If that’s what you want, yeah.” I nodded, praying to God that wasn’t what she asked for.

“And if I agreed—and I’m not saying I am—to this—” She waved her hand around. “Keeping an eye on me. Then what? You’re going to follow me around like a puppy.” Most of the anger was gone, a small, hesitant smile that she was fighting pulled at her lips.

“Presley, is this where you ask me to sit and beg?” It was my turn to grin. “Part of me thinks you’d love it. Ordering me around, testing how far you can push me.”

And, fuck me, if she wasn’t the only one who was curious. I wasn’t even sure the idea was still a good one, the dirty part of my brain rationalizing if she asked me to get naked that I’d be duty-bound to comply. So much gray area, and yet, there I was, willing to sign on the dotted line.

Her lips pressed into a line, the urge to smile wider, a battle she was losing. “Well, maybe it’s something we could try. Like for a day. And only if you promise on your mother that you will do exactly what I say.”

“Firstly, you’re never going to let me forget that, are you? I said it, one fucking time and I was trying to get my point across. So, you need to leave her out of it,” I warned, seeing the humor in it while not needing the visual of my mom’s disproving face. Best she kept thinking her baby boy was a saint, living in denial that my place on the wall of saints and angels was deserved. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her any different and break the woman’s heart. “And secondly, within reason. You want to use me as your own personal science experiment, we’re going to have issues. But, other than that, I’ll agree.”

It was a bad deal.

I knew it, she knew it, even the fucking dumbass lawyer who’d handled my oldest sister’s divorce and fucked it up—she was still paying her ex-husband’s tax bill—would agree it was a huuuuuuge mistake.

But regardless of all that knowledge, the risk, and the chance of epic fallout, I wasn’t saying no.

I put out my hand, the shake the only acceptable physical contact I was able to offer with her brother watching and my turnouts covered in ash and soot. Which was probably for the best anyway, because I was sure the kind of physical contact I wanted to offer wasn’t fit for a public street.

“What do you say, Presley? Trial run?”

The hand that was so deliciously resting on her hip moved and gripped mine, the pressure when she closed it making my balls ache. “Okay, but you can’t get weird on me.”

“Weird how?” I asked, dropping her hand and wondering what she meant. Like when I kissed her in the club the other night, or the night before that when I took her to bed.

“Like sending me messages the next day, pretending you didn’t sleep with me. We’re adults, I’m not going to get amnesia and forget we slept together. Which I might add, was a problem for you and not for me.”

Oh, she had no idea.

None.

“Well, isn’t it lucky we’re going to have all this time to work it out then? And if you thought for a second I’d forget that, then you’re even dumber than your brother.” I leaned forward almost whispering in her ear. “I haven’t forgotten shit. Not about you, and not about that night. And especially not how good my name sounded when you moaned it.” I pulled back, watching as her pupils dilated. I wondered if she was thinking about what we did, about how good I’d made her feel. And if it made her as hot as it did me. “Now, if I don’t get my ass on the engine and get back to the station, I’m going to hear about it for the next week. And I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be too. So I’ll call you later, and we’ll work out how this will go down. I’m off for the next forty-eight, I’ll come by your place after I finish shift tomorrow. Take care.”

Giving her a quick wave, I turned around before I did something stupid.

Like kiss her.

And considering she hadn’t even asked me to do that,