Blind Spot - Katana Collins Page 0,6
hands into my pockets, rocked back onto my heels. “Ah, you got the apartment down there.” I nodded to the floor and shrugged as my pulse jumped. “I think you’ll like being under me,” I added quietly.
With a roll of her eyes, her cheek dropped to her shoulder. Not many girls pulled off cute while angry, but she had it down. “Oh, I don’t think so.” Even though she narrowed her eyes at me, the frown stayed right in place. “I like the top. And I like it quiet,” she added pointedly.
I leaned in, landing my hand on her hip. “Then I’ve got news for you, darlin’. The guy on bottom ain’t doin’ it right.”
Her frown deepened into a damned sexy pout. She was different than the other girls at Charleston Southern University. Naturally beautiful, not the kind that had to cake their faces with makeup to look halfway decent. Not that I didn’t love some seriously sexy red lips now and then. But this sort of instant attraction was different, the kind of tension that made me want to kick everyone out of this damn apartment and have her all to myself for the whole night. Those pink lips parted as the tiniest breath escaped, and she swallowed, pulling back. “Can you just try to keep it down?”
I nodded, bringing my hand back to my hip. “I will. Sorry about the noise tonight. But since you’re here, come on in. Have a drink.” She couldn’t leave yet. It was unnerving just how badly I wanted her to stay and hang out.
I stepped to the side, and Shelby’s friend zoomed past us with a quick, “Okay.” She attempted to link arms with Shelby and pull her inside as well, but I had to hand it to the girl, she held strong, feet firmly planted, jerking her friend back to the doorway.
“We can’t,” Shelby answered, looking directly at me. Those amber brown eyes had flecks of chocolate just around the pupil, and I took the chance to study her, to drink her in. “We need to study.”
“Study?” I snorted. “For what? Classes haven’t begun.”
“That’s what I said.” The redhead smirked at me, then glanced back to Shelby with eyebrows raised. The guy stood silently behind, arms crossed. “Harrison, what do you think?”
He looked to Shelby and tilted his head in a silent question. Their eyes connected, and my spine stiffened. The guy—Harrison apparently—put a hand on Shelby’s shoulder. I took a deep breath and turned back to the redhead. She was my best chance at getting Shelby to stick around a while.
“I didn’t catch your name,” I said to her.
She grinned and held a hand out. “Reagan.”
“Reagan,” I said, taking that hand. “We’ve got sangria…”
“Shelby’s favorite,” she responded, smiling and slowly turning back to her friend.
Shelby rolled her eyes, finally dropping her hands to her sides. “Okay, fine. One drink.” Buddy seized the moment, nudging her hand with his nose, and with his big tongue, he lapped at her fingers. Her face split into a grin, and she scratched Buddy behind the ears. I automatically liked anyone who liked my dog.
“C’mon,” I stepped back, letting Reagan and this Harrison guy go ahead, and as Shelby moved past my shoulder, I curved my arm around her stomach, resting the weight of my hand at the waistband of her jeans. She jumped at my touch and licked her plump, pink lips, stealing a look at me from over one shoulder.
Oh, boy. This girl was trouble. The only question was, did she intentionally cause it, or was she the type of girl it just followed? Something told me it was the latter.
Harrison looked back at us and gave me a quick, foreboding glance before Reagan dragged him to the punch bowl.
“So,” I said, reluctantly pulling my hand away from her hip. “Sangria?” I grabbed a red plastic cup, moving to the pitcher I kept in the fridge.
“I can get it,” she answered quickly, grabbing her own cup from the pile and heading toward the punch bowl. With a gentle touch, she brushed her side-swept bangs from her eyes, her hand lingering at her temple.
I scrunched my nose. “I dunno that I would drink out of the community bowl,” I said, pulling out the pitcher of leftover sangria. “I have some right here that’s more likely not to have backwash and God knows what else in it.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she furrowed her brow, setting the plastic cup back down. “I’ll take one of those