Shameless - Sybil Bartel Page 0,46

one hundred percent self-serving. “How many other L&A men have you come on to?” I knew the fucking answer. Every single one that’d been her handler.

Her shoulders rose with an inhale before sinking in defeat. “Two, but I was high both times.” She turned to face me. “If I had been like I am now, I wouldn’t have.”

My hand still on her neck, I didn’t let go of her, but I fucking should have. “Is that supposed to impress me?” The thought of her fucking another L&A prick pissed me off, and suddenly I was giving her shit that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the possessive thoughts that’d been running through my head since she’d come barreling down a mountain after me. “You’re more selective when you’re sober. Is that the line you’re gonna feed me? Or let me guess, I’m special.” Same goddamn bullshit I’d heard from Cara, same goddamn bullshit I’d heard from the woman I’d given a ring to before I’d deployed for my first time, and the same goddamn bullshit I’d made sure I’d become immune to a long damn time ago.

Summer blinked.

“That’s what I thought.” Pissed at myself, but taking it out on her, I dropped my hand and reminded myself that when it came right down to it, all women were the same. “Go upstairs.”

“You know that’s not what this is,” she protested.

I knew exactly what this was. The question was, did I care? “Not my first rodeo, sweetheart.” Getting dangerously close to saying fuck it, I wondered how tight her cunt would be.

“I want you,” she blurted. “Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m curious. I’m turned on. I want you to kiss me again.” She threw her hands up. “What the hell is wrong with that?”

I let loose with a cynical laugh. “Everything. Trust me, you don’t want me.” Rehab or not, she had her whole damn life ahead of her, and the fact she’d come after me a couple times didn’t mean shit except I was her bodyguard and she needed me to protect her.

“You don’t feel this, this”—she waved her hand between us—“connection between us?”

I looked her straight in the eye and did what I told myself two fucking seconds ago I wouldn’t.

I lied.

“No.” I lied to both of us. “My dick hard and wondering what your cunt tastes like doesn’t mean there’s something between us.” Already racking up the asshole points, I went for broke and piled on the lies. “Fucking you wouldn’t be a connection.” Dragging my thumb across her bottom lip, I leaned closer. “It’d be orgasms.” Smelling her desire, I paused a beat. “A lot of fucking orgasms.”

OH.

My.

God.

Desire surged between my legs, and I didn’t know if I hated his dirty talk and crudeness or if I wanted him more for it.

My secret thick on my tongue, unable to think of a single response because I was fixated on what having his dominant mouth between my legs would feel like, I did the first smart thing I’d done since waking up this morning.

I retreated.

Doing what I should’ve done an hour ago, I walked back upstairs.

To my disappointment, he didn’t stop me.

My bottom lip on fire, my neck still tingling where he’d held me with intent, my core pulsing with hungry, incessant need, I went straight to the masculine bedroom that screamed Shade Whatever-His-Last-Name-Was, and sat my ass down on the bed.

Covering my face with my hands, I rocked forward and relived my embarrassment. “Jesus, Summer, what the fuck?” I whispered. A hot second out of rehab, and I was already screwing up so badly, I wanted to crawl into a hole and never surface.

What the hell was I thinking, coming on to man like Shade?

That he’d what? Take me to bed and fuck me nice?

I was an idiot.

And his ex?

I hated her and her designer dress and Jimmy Choo heels. Older, more sophisticated, she wasn’t some skank. She was in the same league as my stepmother, and Fallon was a supermodel. No, she was the supermodel. Elegant, graceful, reserved, she was everything I wasn’t. I’d spent my entire adolescence trying to be like her before I gave up.

I would never be that.

I may have been raised with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I didn’t have the kind of patience to have poise, and I sure as hell didn’t have the compassion my stepmother did with her charity that helped sick kids.

Not that Shade’s psycho ex looked