Drive Me Wild - Melanie Harlow Page 0,12

on the street.”

“I have no choice,” she sobbed. Then all of a sudden, she moved so close the backs of her hands were resting on my chest.

I could smell her perfume—sure enough, there was something vanilla about it—and her bare, trembling shoulders were begging me to put my arms around them. I had to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from embracing her.

“Look, you can—you can stay with me,” I choked out.

“What?” She sniffed and looked up. “Stay with you where?”

“My apartment. I live above the garage.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” She backed up and touched her collarbone. “It wouldn’t be right.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t really have a choice, Blair. I’m not leaving you on the street, you don’t have money for a motel, and it’s the middle of the night.”

She blinked. “I guess you’re right. But I hate to impose. It’s so tacky.”

Impose, as if she’d shown up uninvited to a garden party. “Just . . . get your stuff and come on,” I said gruffly.

“Okay. My suitcase is in the trunk.”

I got it out for her, brushing away her hand when she reached for it. “I’ll carry it,” I said.

“Thank you.” She followed me down the sidewalk to my apartment door and stood at my side while I unlocked it. A car drove past us as I was pulling it open, and I cringed when it slowed down. Hopefully, it was no one I knew—I didn’t need to be the subject of any gossip tomorrow.

“Go on,” I said impatiently. “Get inside.”

She held up the bottom of her dress and started up the stairs, while I took a moment to lock the door behind us before going up two steps at a time, her bag still in my hand.

I hadn’t left any lights on, so when I reached the top, I bumped into her from behind. She stumbled forward, and I instinctively reached out, catching her around the waist.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just so dark.”

It was dark. And I had her clutched against my bare chest so tightly I could smell her perfume again. Or was it her hair? Blood rushed to parts of me that didn’t need encouragement right now, and I let her go.

“Give me a second.” Sidestepping her, I moved to the wall and flipped a switch.

“Oh—oh, wow,” she said, moving deeper into the room and turning in a slow circle. “This is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I turned on a couple more lights, suddenly wary of being alone with her.

“No fireman pole?” she asked, shooting me a smile over one shoulder that I found alarmingly seductive.

“Not anymore.” Trying to remain businesslike—not easy when you’re shirtless at midnight—I set her suitcase down and stood a good ten feet from her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You can stay on the couch. I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets.”

“Thank you.”

“If you want to use the bathroom, it’s through there.” I gestured toward the hallway leading to my bedroom and quickly folded my arms again.

“Thank you. I would like to get out of this dress. Could I borrow a hanger please?”

“Sure. In the closet.” I was hoping she’d head straight for the bedroom but instead, she came toward me and reached out, placing a palm on my shoulder.

“I really appreciate this.”

Heat rushed my entire body. “No big deal.”

“It is to me,” she said, and I was terrified she was going to hug me, but she didn’t. She picked up her suitcase and headed down the hall into my room.

When I heard the door shut, I exhaled in relief and went over to the chest beneath the front windows where I stored spare blankets. Since it was so warm, a sheet would’ve been better than a blanket, but my extra sheets were in my bedroom. I’d have to wait until she came out to get one. I stood there wondering if she was topless in my bedroom right this second, and my cock was hard in seconds.

The bedroom door creaked open again.

“Griffin?”

“Yeah?”

“Um, I need some help.”

“Help?”

“Getting this dress off.”

I looked up at the ceiling. Really, God? Really?

Cursing under my breath, I adjusted the crotch of my jeans and walked back to my bedroom, my heart beating an uncomfortably hard, fast rhythm. When I reached the doorway, I kept my eyes on the floor. “Is it okay to come in?”

“Yes. I’m sorry—this whole situation is awkward enough—but the zipper is stuck.”

Tentatively, I entered the room and saw her standing with her back to me, holding up her