Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,132

his pockets. “You know I ain’t got no manners.”

I giggle. Giggle. Like a damn school girl! At least I stopped it quickly.

“Let me grab my coat and we can get this over with.” I breeze past him toward the hallway.

“Usually my dates beg for more.”

I ignore the stab of pain in my chest at his comment while he follows me down the hall to the closet. When the two of us are in the darkened small space, it feels like I’m suffocating. I should’ve turned the light on.

His cologne. Wait, cologne? Dean never used to wear cologne.

He leans forward to look into my bedroom. “What are you doing?” I step back. “Excuse me.” I place my hand on his chest to push him back. Wrong move. The hard muscles tense under my touch.

“Just getting the lay of the land so we don’t bump into any walls tonight.” It’s too dark to see his expression, but I’d bet his eyes are lit up like Michigan Avenue at Christmas.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“After you doubted my skills the other night, I have to do some legwork. You know I’m not a young buck anymore.”

“Yeah, need a cane yet, twenty-six?” I shake my head.

“Twenty-seven,” he corrects, and my shoulders falter a little. “It’s okay, I forgive you.”

His birthday is in February, so he’s already turned twenty-seven. Fuck me. Why do I feel so bad for not remembering? I bet he doesn’t remember mine.

“You forgive me?” I grab the coat off the hanger because I need to escape this area. It’s like a sexual trifecta with him, me and a bed five-feet away.

“You could make it up to me...give me a belated birthday gift,” he says from behind me.

“I can only imagine what you had in mind.” I stop in the family room and push one arm into my coat when suddenly the back of the coat is held up for me.

“Nah, you never were the birthday blow job kinda girl, were you?”

I say nothing because there’s currently a fire igniting between my thighs and I know it’s only going to spread.

“I think you loved my cock more than I did,” he says in a low, gravelly voice.

There it goes, a full five-alarm fire between my thighs.

I slide my arm through my other sleeve. His fingers brush the nape of my neck as he straightens the collar.

“November third,” he whispers my birthday into my ear. “Figured you were wondering.”

“You figured wrong.” I move to the table to grab my clutch, my eyes never meeting his. “I don’t like to be late.” I yank open the door, but he grabs the edge, motioning for me to go first.

I was so wrong about this only being a ride. I’m not sure myself or my panties are going to survive.

Somehow, I did just that—survive. Mostly because I made sure to stay on my side of the Uber car. Thankfully, Dean took the signal and stayed on the opposite side. We discussed RISE mostly, he wanted more information on the charity he only volunteered his services to help so that he could have a “casual” run-in with me.

I admit, Hannah’s right, I like the fact that he sought me out way more than I should.

We make our way into the building and one of the three doormen direct us to the elevator and steps in with us.

“Why did Hannah start RISE again?” Dean asks, dangerously close to me.

“Because her ex was an asshole.”

The doorman glances over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Those damn ex-husbands,” Dean jokes. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

Giggle number two. I’m going to count them the entire evening, so if you’d like to grab a piece of scrap paper, you’d be doing me a service.

“I could live without mine.”

His hand lands on my hip. It doesn’t mold, just stays there and the heat between us makes it feel like he’s branding me.

The elevator dings and the doorman holds his hand on the doors so they don’t close on us. Dean’s hand finds the small of my back to lead me out.

“Have a good night.” The gentleman nods to us.

“You as well. Thank you.” Dean puts out his hand, shakes it with what I assume is money.

“Where did the farm boy go?” I ask.

“I told you I’ve changed.” He shrugs.

We stop in front of a woman dressed in black and white who’s holding her hands out. “May I?”

Dean helps me with my coat and hands it over to the woman, and then sheds his leather jacket. For