to torture myself. He slips the heel from my foot, placing it down and goes to work on my other foot.
“You expect me to go to Wrigley Field?” I screw up my face.
“Technically, it’s rooftop. You don’t have to go in. If it helps, my boss is a ChiSox fan.”
“He knows you’re a Cubs fan?”
The conversation sounds juvenile, but honestly, jobs have been claimed, jobs have been lost, by what color you wear. In Chicago, if you’re a baseball fan, there’s no such thing as liking both teams. It’s one or the other. End of discussion.
“Yeah.”
“You think bringing a Sox fan will give you brownie points. Hence the favor?”
His gaze shifts off my feet to my eyes and it’s too dark to truly read his face, but his silence is deafening. “Yeah.”
It’s one simple word, but there’s a weight to it I don’t understand. I’m not even sure what made the shift in the conversation. Where did our usual banter go? I can’t help but think there’s another reason he wants me there and as usual, my curiosity gets the better of me.
“Okay. I’ll go,” I say.
“I’ll take you to the game at Cellular.”
“Well, how can I refuse then?”
He tickles my foot and I slide it back my way trying to get free.
The car slows, and I start to pull my legs toward me to put my heels back on, but Dean locks his arm across my shins, picking up each heel and sliding it on like he’s a shoe salesman and has done it millions of times.
Again, the energy shifts when he finishes and our eyes lock.
I turn away, grabbing my clutch and opening the door.
“Thank you,” I say to the driver and step to the concrete sidewalk in front of my apartment.
Dean slides to come out my side, but I hold my hand out in front of my chest. “I got it from here.”
A sly smile crosses his lips and he doesn’t stop, his foot landing between my legs as he pulls himself out of the car, leaving us chest to chest.
“You think you can get rid of me that easily?”
His hands grip my hips and he shuffles forward pushing me away from the car. While he’s busy shutting the door and telling the Uber guy to leave, I fiddle with my keys to get in my apartment complex.
In the small glass foyer, his chest hits my back and I’m not going to lie, a small part of me wants to turn around and smash my lips to his. My nipples peak in my bra and I suppress a shiver.
Willpower, Chels. You have a few minutes and then you can pop in Rambo and relive what it’s like to sleep with Dean Bennett.
The key finally fits, and I unlock the door, stepping toward the elevator.
“I can let you go here.” I look behind me.
He raises his hand up in the air, pointing to the ground and does a spinning motion. “Turn back around.”
“Really, Dean, I got it.”
“I’m walking you to your door.” He reaches past me, pressing the elevator button.
Someone has it out for me. Now I have to survive an elevator ride with him. Please, there are hundreds of people who live in this apartment complex, someone has to be coming home at the same time as us.
It arrives quickly because it’s late at night and most residents are probably asleep.
I step in, pressing my floor. Dean stands shoulder to shoulder with me.
When I spot a woman coming through the glass doors, she turns her key in the lock and smiles. I smile back.
My savior.
Dean reaches across the elevator and presses the close door button. For once it actually does what it should, and the doors slowly come together. The woman’s smile turns into a look of disgust and she flips Dean off.
My head swivels in his direction. “That wasn’t nice.”
“I don’t care.” His chest pushes into mine, his hands locking me on either side.
I have no idea how he did it, but my back is against the wall, his body looming over mine with lust filled eyes and lickable lips. I want to open my arms and tell him to take me.
“She’s—”
His hips slide forward. “I’m done sharing you tonight.”
“Dean,” I sigh.
“One kiss?” he asks. “Please?”
His voice so desperate like he’s pleading for a drop of water after running a marathon.
“Shouldn’t you see me to the door first?”
His lips turn up, his perfect row of teeth making an appearance. “You don’t want to make-out in the