The girl was gone.
Rolling the plastic die in the crook of his hand, Jesseâs gaze rested on the cocoa skinned beauty tending bar in Roxanneâs absence. Her deltoids flexed as she shook the ice and liquid in the shaker. She uncapped it to pour the watermelon colored liquid in a dainty martini glass and glanced across the bar at him.
Jesse focused on his book. A discussion of poetry and prose. Always the English teacher. It was a beautiful book, one his fingers had tattered the edges of over the years.
Roxanne would love it.
âShe off today.â The bartender stood above him, fist propped on her hip.
He looked up, trying to ignore the sweeping hourglass figure outlined in her black shorts and tank top. âThanks.â
The woman blew out a sigh and slid into the booth across from him. She hooked her fingers around his sweating water glass and slid it to her side of the table. It rumbled over the tile table in protest until her full lips closed around the straw and sucked half the liquid down.
Freeing the plastic tube from her pillowy mouth, her throat rippled as she swallowed. âYou too old for her. Sheâs twenty-four.â
He took a deep breath. Put a placeholder in the book and slid it into his shoulder bag. Cupping the breast of his wine glass, he lifted it to his mouth. Sipped. Glanced up to see her watching him.
âAll right, look. You seem nice.â She sat back, crossing her arms. âBut she been through a lot and is still goinâ through it. Donât waste your time.â
Jesse swallowed, his teeth grinding as he focused on being calm. The glass managed to rest on the tabletop without clattering. âWasting my time.â
Her dark eyes seemed to try to drill into him.
âIâll come back later.â
âDrop her, man. I am serious. She gotta get her shit together before sheâll be good for anyone. I am not just sayinâ this, you hear me?â
âWe all have problems.â
The bartender rolled her eyes, her âfro shaking with her head. The noise level of the restaurant seemed to escalate with her silence as she surveyed the place.
âThank you for your service. It was wonderful as always.â Jesse took out his wallet, placing a few bills on the table.
She looked at them. âDonât take it like that.â
âI have to work tomorrow.â
âYou a teacher, right? Roxie said that. That girl is obsessed with books. You should see how many she goes through. Got a new one every day. You just donât even know.â
He felt his lips curl through the stress of his face and turned his attention to his shoulder bag.
âMaybe you do know. That what you two talk about? Books?â
âIt was nice to speak with you.â
She lurched across the table, slapping her palm down against the back of his hand. âRoxie married. You seen her ring? Come on, I know you have.â
The memory of the thin, tarnished silver band on her slender fingers haunted him. Sheâd never seemed attached to it, never seemed attached to anyone. Said she was divorced.
âI heard she told you she wasnât married. Why do you think she still wears that ring?â
âShe hasnât worn it in a month.â
Her long, pink nails dragged over his hand. Slid over the tiles as she backed down. The booth sighed under her. âYou did notice.â
âYeah.â His lips quirked. âWere you telling me this for my benefit or hers?â
âShit, both.â She rolled her eyes and took another pull from the straw. âYou know everything between her and her husband?â
âIt isnât my place.â
Her face tilted to one side, her wide eyes blinking. âWhatchu mean, itâs not your place? Sheâs sitting here, talking to you every time you come in, making you think sheâs interested, and it ainât your business? Iâd want to know everything about the guy hollerin' at me.â
Jesse forced his smile downward. âItâs up to her how much she wants to tell me.â
âNo. See, thatâs how you get fucked up. You need to know this shit,â she tapped her finger against her temple, âto understand whatâs really going on. Work smart, not hard. Donât get surprised.â
Roxanne had been nothing but a surprise. Tattoos sleeved her willowy arms, feminine muscles gracing her skin. Capable, but fragile. Knowing and not, but wanting to. Wanting to know everything. It was unnerving, but attracted him all the same.
Heâd found a random die in his classroom, months ago, and rolled it to decide what to do for dinner. Â Evens he'd go home, odds he'd come to this restaurant. Â It'd changed his entire meaningless existence.
âWhat you should be asking yourself is why ainât she here.â
âShouldnât I ask you?â
Her lips parted slightly and she looked down, fingers sliding through the condensation of the pint glass of water. âProbably shouldnât tell you she pressing charges against her husband. Divorcing his ass too.â
âWhy? What charges?â
âHe use'ta hit her. You know, they been together since they in high school. People kids then. They donât grow up together, they jusâ grow apart.â
Jesse took a deep breath. Swallowed. His skin felt numb, his brain like nothing but white space.
Hit her.
She met his gaze again. âDonât hurt her, Teach. Sheâs kinda... she got some problems. Donât go there, thatâs my advice.â
With another quick sip of his water, the bartender left his table. He stared at the tile under the cup, its colors melting together.
Donât go there. Probably good advice.
Â
****
Â
âWhatâd you tell him?â Roxie cornered Aisha next to the dumpster in the back of the restaurant the next day.
âYou shoulda told him the truth.â
âWhatâd you say?
Aisha flicked her cigarette, white flakes floating down to her black Sketchers. âNothinâ. Just told him you divorcing yoâ husband. That he hurt you. Maybe I said he should leave you alone.â
âWhy?â
âHe old enough to be your father. That shit donât fly.â
Roxie jammed her hands into her coat. âYou had no right to say anything to him. I wouldnât say anything personal about you to Peanut if he walked in.â
âOh, Peanut know he got a crazy bitch. That crazy motherfucker. But he knows this bitch gets down.â Her friend bent over and bounced her ass up and down, watching her over her shoulder as she backed up on her. âKnow what Iâm sayinâ? Know what Iâm sayin?â
âFuck, Aisha. Shut up.â Laughter sprang from Roxieâs body, echoing around the little gated smokerâs area in the back of the grill. She clapped a hand against her chest, shaking her head.
The other bartender straightened. âWhy you want to ruin that old guyâs life with your shit anyhow? Ya know I love you, but that is too much for someone like him. Youâll break him. You know this.â
âI donât know.â Roxie sighed. âHeâs just... different. Thereâs something about him.â
âHeâs quiet. That is all. Donât get âdreamy white girlâ on me.â Aisha took a long drag from her cigarette before tossing it in a puddle. The flame sizzled dark.
âHeâs intelligent. Kind.â
The other girl rolled her eyes and stalked over to the back door. âAnd there you go.â
Â
****
Â
Jesse settled into the uncomfortable booth. Â Slipped his hand inside his shoulder bag to pull out a thin, tattered book and started reading. As always, he got lost in the words, pulled and threaded together by two people so different and pinned with affection. It never ceased to ease him. Every break and pause, every description of life.
It reminded him of her.
âHi.â
The seat across from him sighed with the drop of her body. His eyes fixated on the tattoos sleeving her arms. He used to think they were beautiful, that anything adorning her body would be gorgeous by default. Now he was sure theyâd hidden her bruises well .
She cleared her throat, making him meet her dark eyes.
âHey, hot stuff. Come here often?â Her lips spread, dimples sinking into her cheeks. As if she didnât battle a terrible past. Like she wanted to cover it all with a grin.
Okay. We can do this.
âTwo glasses pinot noir, please.â
âTwo?â Her smile faded as she glanced at the door.
âOne for you, if you please.â
âOh.â
He grinned, closing the book he was no longer paying attention to. Ran his hands over the polished backing. The soft edges.
âSomeone told me you liked to read.â
âThose filthy rumors.â She clasped her hands on the table, her smile creasing the corners of her eyes.
âYes. Those.â Jesseâs fingers rapped on the thin book before sliding it across the table to her. âYou like stories and poetry. This is one of my favorites. It uses both.â
The shadow between her collarbones seemed to deepen as she looked down. Her hand rested on the paperback. Fingered the creases. âYouâve read this a lot.â
âYes.â
Roxanneâs dark eyes met his gaze again.
âThereâs something human... peaceful, inside. Itâs a beautiful piece of work.â
âIf youâre giving it to me, I know it is.â
He wasnât trembling, but it felt like something inside him was. Scraping his knuckles over his stubbled jaw, he leaned back. âYour friend talked to me the other day.â
âShe told me.â She pulled the book to her lap and stared at it.
What is she thinking?Â
Jesse wanted to take her home, to talk to her away from her job, away from all the distractions. His arms ticked, needing to wrap around her and pull her close to him. To smell her hair and wander the delicate curves of her young body. He rested his hands in his lap.
âHope none of what she said was a deal breaker.â
âFor what?â
âFor everything I want you to do to me.â A smile flickered over her lips before she stowed it behind her teeth.
Fuck. Clearing his throat, his hands drifted to adjust his crotch. Why does she do this to me?
There was nothing not to love about women, all women. God knew heâd had his share. More than his share, probably. Sometimes with meaning, sometimes not. Heâd long given up on the prospect of life-affirming love and settled for respect instead.
But her...
She looked up, dimples winking at him.
What is it about her?
Being a professor, heâd had easy access to younger women throughout his years. Had the musicians and artists. Anyone whoâd seemed to contrast the norm. But it had never been like this. Though they werenât usually as forward as Roxanne.
Which, it seemed, should be contradictory to being a battered woman.
âIâll get you that wine. Might have to drink it all yourself, though, if management is watching.â She stood, smoothing her clothes with her free hand. Met his eyes again. âActually, I might like that. Then I can take advantage of you.â
âThought you wanted me to take advantage of you.â
Her eyebrows rose. She blinked.
The words hung between them, his dick growing harder. Fuck, did I really just say that?
Nostrils flaring, Roxanne inhaled. Her nail beds went white, pressing his thin book against her stomach. âThought youâd never ask.â
âDo you want me to ask? Or do you just want me to take you?â
He felt like he couldnât breathe. His pulse blazed through his body with every beat. All these people around them, and all he could see was her. The others' low murmurs only drowned out his reservations. His cock pushed against the restraint of his jeans, begging him to prop her up on the table and drive into her warm pussy.
âJesse...â A flush swept her cheeks and flooded the shells of her ears. She swallowed.
âGod, Roxanne.â Reaching out, he curled his fingers around her smooth forearm to tug her closer. âI shouldnât want the things I want from you.â
âWhy?â
The word was like a broken breeze from her petaled lips. Watching them tremble with her breath, calm spread through his veins. He forced himself to breathe deeper. Slower. To ignore the rapid strumming of his heart and the heat of his cock.
No. It was too close to her divorce, to whatever had shattered inside her. I donât know what this is. But itâs not just a fuck. Not with her.
Loosening his grip, he slid his hand up her arm. He stood, making her take a step backward. âI apologize. I shouldnât have been that crass with you.â
âCrass?â Her eyes fluttered.
He grabbed his bag. âForget the wine. Maybe another time.â
âYou canât just leave.â
Jesse tightened his grip on the handle. Allowed himself a glance at the hint of cleavage from his new vantage point. His gaze swept up her collarbones. Her slender neck. The parted lips he longed to experience.  Fingers caressing the edges of the book he'd given her. Â
âThe book is beautiful, Roxanne. Like you.â
When he turned away it was as if he were turning his back on the only heaven heâd ever be allowed to have. Each step felt wooden, farther and farther away from warmth, until he pushed through the windowed double doors and into the arms of winter.
Â
****
Â
Iâm turning into a fucking psycho.  Roxie smoothed the unwrinkled scrap of paper with Jesseâs name and cell phone number.  Who does this shit?  I'm like one of those crazy chicks in Lifetime movies.
Jesse's teacher profile on the universityâs page included his cell phone number. Â In the age of internet stalkers and scam artists, he should know better. Â But it was endearing that he was so open to helping his students. Â She never had a teacher like that.
âFuck.â Â
She ran a hand through her long brown hair, her fleece pajama pants catching her eye. Â Pink, with a bunch of little hearts dotting them.
So mature. Â He wouldnât waste his time on me if he saw me in this.
Aisha had bagged on her over her clothes for days after sheâd moved in.  She wasnât feminine enough. She needed big girl lingerie. But sheâd tried that with Lance. Tried everything she could think of. Nothing got better. Everything, especially his drinking, had gotten worse and worse.
Neither of them had come from decent families. Â Neither had graduated high school. It wasnât something that had worried either one of them at first, but Lance couldnât see the future. Â He could only see the past, and pigeon holed himself into it until he hated himself and wanted everyone else to hate him too.
Itâd worked. Â She stayed with him when he hit her the first time. Â Left after the second. Didn't need to end up a statistic.
Why am I thinking about Lance right now? Â Jesse is nothing like him. God. Heâs so smart. Â So...beautiful.
She stared at the wall, fingers knotting in the hair at her crown. Â âBeautiful? What the fuck?â
Since when is a man beautiful?
She shook her head. Â But between his quiet voice and his war with manners, there was something about his soul that seemed to flow into her and breathe from her pores in every waking moment. Â His knowledge and love of the written word, his patience with things and people that challenged his existence.
Like Aisha. Â Heâd handled her without showing out, without dimming any ounce of his integrity. Â
The words heâd spoken to her the night before were testament to his nasty side. Â He wasnât perfect. That fact and that experience had only made her want him more. Â With a fire she wasnât used to.
Roxie clenched her legs, squeezing her clit and exploding pleasure and ache throughout her pussy. Â âFuck.â
Grabbing the cell from her nightstand, she unlocked it and headed to the message screen. Â Typed in the numbers, highlighted the body section, and stared.
âWhat the fuck am I doing?â
Her finger hit send out of habit, sending the message floating to the upper part of the screen. Â âJesse. Â Itâs Roxanne.â Â
âOh, shit.â
After a few seconds, the screen dimmed. Â She tapped it to lighten it again.
An ellipses icon appeared below her words.
She felt her eyes widen. Â Her fingers held the phone like it was an exploding device, eyes fixated on the sluggish reply. Â Dot. Dot. Dot. The little icon died away. A second passed.
âI only know of one Roxanne.â
âJesse.â Â His name flooded her with warmth as she lay back onto the bed and crooked her feet on the side. Â
âWhatâs she like? Â Bet sheâs a real catch.â
A smile filled her face as those ellipses popped up again. Â Disappeared.
âIâm not sure if she knows how amazing she is. Â But she is resourceful, among other things. Â :-)â
She let out a breath. Â He didnât think she was weird for having his number. Â
Her thumbs brushed across the screen before moving to the letters. Â âHow would she get your number, though? Â What a freak. Unless youâre interested in her.â
âExcuse me for asking, but if youâre Roxanne, I need proof. Â Sheâs quite a woman, and weâve talked about many things.â
Not so clueless. Â She took a deep breath and turned on her side. Â
âYou told me you shouldnât want the things you want from me.â Â She hit send and waited, sucking in and expelling shaky breaths. Â Nothing. âWhat do you want to do to me?â
Message delivered. Â Read. Nothing. Then an explosion of ellipses, which retreated. Â The phone dimmed.
âCome on.â
The screen lit in her hand, an unknown number at the forefront. Â She frantically patted the bed until hearing the crinkle of paper. Â Her hand closed around it and pulled it to her face.
Same number.
Thumbing the green answer bar to the side, she dropped the paper. Â Put the phone to her ear.
Seconds passed.
âYouâre supposed to say, âhello.ââ Â
Jesseâs deep voice was unmistakeable. Â Every inflection wet her pussy more. All she could do was breathe.
âTalk or I will hang up.â
âDonât hang up.â Â
Silence plagued her ears. Â Only the heater hummed.
âHow did you get this number?â
âYour teacher website.â
He made a delectable noise in his throat. Â âOh?â
âYeah. Â You should be more careful. Â Psychos might call you.â
âTelemarketers, students, and beautiful bartenders?â
Roxanne stared at the popcorn ceiling and smiled. Â âI hear the bartenders are the weirdest ones around.â
âNot weird. Â Different somehow. Â You are, anyway.â The answer deepened his voice. Â Static wrestled the background. âI never expected you. Â Not there. Not on my phone. Not constantly in my mind.â
Goosebumps travelled her flesh.
âWho are you?â Â His deep voice dwindled. Â âHow do you affect me like this?â
She swallowed. Â âHow do I affect you?â
It was as if her world balanced on the axis of his answer. Â The seconds trembled into the dark night, growing longer and quieter until bursting with his exhale.
âI donât know...I found this die in my classroom on the floor next to my desk and Iâd been wanting to do something different.  The idea hit me to just go out for a glass of wine after work. Be with people, and yet not. But it just seemed so bizarre, a guy hanging out by himself at a bar.  I rolled the die.  Evens I'd go home.  Odds I'd go out. You were simply on my way home.â He took a breath. âA roll of the die found you.
âItâs been a long time since I believed in fate, Roxanne. Â But a little cube with some engraved dots told me to do something I hadnât done. Â Then you walked up to that tacky little table and my world changed.â
âSo did mine.â Â
Her voice sounded far away. Â Pulling the covers over her body, she closed her eyes. Â Drifted from the little apartment and all her real world problems. Â The sound of his breathing, his voice on the other line anchored her soul.
âWhy me? Â Youâre young, beautiful, smart. Â You could have anyone you wanted. Â Out of everyone that notices you every day, you noticed me.â
Her lips moved, but failed to make words. Â Licking them, she took a deep breath. âMaybe we shouldnât question how it happened. Â Just be content that it did.â
âDo you feel the world break away around us too?â
âYes.â Â Roxie dipped under her waistband to cup her burning pussy, as if her cold hand would put the fire out.
âGod.â Â
Silence stretched through the airwaves. Â
âJesse?â she whispered.
âIâm here.â
Rolling to her side, she tightened the blanket around her. Â âCan we finally have a date?â
Â
****
Â
When he thought of Roxanne, his dick shot up like a rocket.  Thick, long, desperate to be inside her and paint her with cum. It wasnât what she deserved, but he supposed he could keep his hands off her enough for dinner.  Then drop her off at home again like a gentleman.
She hadnât liked the idea of going âsomeplace nice.â Â Itâd made her feel uncomfortable. Against his better judgement, he brought her to a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant a few blocks from her apartment. Â Sizzles and shouts from the kitchen filled the air, warring only with the sound of Latin music.
Roxanneâs face flushed from the spicy salsa. Â Catching an escaped drop at the corner of her mouth, she giggled.
That sound. Â He smiled, taking in her joy. Â There is nothing like this.
âHave some!â
He shook his head. Â âIt might give me an ulcer.â
âOh, be quiet. Â It might aggravate an ulcer, but it wonât single handedly give you one. Â Try it!â
Looking at the smudge on the corner of her mouth, he knew exactly how he wanted to try it. Â He licked his lips. Took a deep breath and reached for a chip.
The salsa exploded on his tongue. Sweat beaded his cheeks. He swallowed, managing to get it down before the jalapeno hit the back of his throat.  Throat seizing up, he coughed until his eyes watered.
A dragging sound made him look up. Â Roxanne had pushed the last half of her water across the table to him. Â Her slender eyebrows knitted together.
âDrink this.â Â
He did as he was told, sucking through the straw until it gurgled air. Â The glass freezing his hand, he turned his head to the side to clear his throat.
âSorry.â
Wincing, he met her gaze. Â âWhy are you sorry?â
âI just...â Â She motioned to the salsa. Â âYou said no and I pushed you.â
He cleared his throat again and shook his head. Â âI should know better.â
Biting her lower lip, she lifted another chip. Â Broke it off into smaller and smaller pieces and nibbled at it. Â
Jesse took another sip of water. Â âAre you shy now?â
âNo. Â Should I be?â Â Dimples teased her cheeks and her gaze met his again.
âI hope not. Â I wonder if Iâm shy enough for the both of us.â
âYou arenât that shy. Â Whoâs the man that gave me the option to ask for sex or to just take me?â
Fuck. Â His cock was ready in one pulse. Â What would it be like to run my fingers through that fine hair? Â To kiss her temple, the flesh behind her ear. To taste her mouth. Â To spread her legs before me and feel her fuck my tongue?
Her dark eyes didnât waver.
Jesse leaned over the table. Â âDo you want me to just take you, Roxanne? Â Do you want me to do it hard or soft? You deserve to be treated like the beautiful spirit you are, but I find myself in a rage to fuck you half the time.â
Those petaled lips parted, her gaze dropping to his mouth. Â âOh.â
âOh.â Â His voice sounded grainy. Â
He spied the waiter walking toward them with their food. Â Clearing his throat, he leaned back. The waiter uttered pleasantries. Â Jesse thanked him and waited until the man left to meet Roxieâs gaze again.
âSorry. Â I shouldnât have said that.â
âDo you feel it?â
âYes.â Â He gritted his teeth. Â
âThen donât hold back from me. Â I want to know what you feel.â
The heat from the plate steamed his skin as he looked across the table at her. Â âYou deserve more than that.â
âI deserve the truth. Â Itâs all Iâm asking for. Â I just want to know you. Good parts, bad parts, and the dirty parts.â Â Her tongue slid through the slit between her lips, swiping over them before disappearing again. Â âItâs not like I donât have desires of my own.â
Jesseâs cock flexed. Â âYou keep this up and weâll never eat this fucking dinner.â
âFine by me.â Â Those dimples cleaved into her cheeks again.
Do those dimples flex when she sucks cock? Â When that tongue slides down the shaft, curls around my head? Â His staff was insistent against the strain of his jeans.
âStop.â Â The word came out like a croak. Â âYouâre going to fucking shatter me.â
Her chest rose with her inhale. Â She dropped back in her seat and looked at her food as if noticing it for the first time. Â Jesse picked up the rolled napkin, shakily flicking open the paper binder.
âSorry. Â Iâve been bad. Â Maybe you should spank me.â
His fork clattered to the plate. Â Stilling it with his palm, his nostrils flared. Â He looked up at her.
Roxanneâs eyebrows rose. Â
The image of her naked over his lap, her breasts brushing his legs and her naked ass presented to him, nearly made him tow her out of the restaurant and fuck her into next week. Â
Breathe, Jesse. Â
He looked at her neck, her prominent clavicles and the little hollow where they joined. Â Remembered what the other bartender had said about Roxanneâs ex. His violent past, and hers as the victim.
Blinking, he pursed his lips. Â Picked up his fork. âEat.â
Was she serious or was that a joke? Â Is some part of her twisted by her past and longing to be slapped around? Â Does she think she deserves to be abused?
âJesus Christ,â he muttered.
âWhat are you thinking?â
Shaking his head, he met her eyes. Â âIâm thinking we need to get to know each other more before we talk like that. Â Iâm thinking we need to eat dinner.â
Biting her lip, she nodded. Â Looked down at her plate and pushed the refried beans around with her fork. Â
âAnd Iâm thinking about how goddamn beautiful you are all the time. Â Like youâve got a direct line to the pulse of life.â
Her eyes pressed shut. Â When she opened them again, a smile crept over her lips. Â âOkay. Iâm sorry I went too far. Again. Itâs a gift.â
He laughed, earning a wide smile from her just before she brought a forkful of beans to her lips and pulled it out clean. Â His cock throbbed. Donât think it, Jesse. Â Say something else.
âSo. Are you in college?â
Those petite shoulders sank. Â Shaking her head, she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. Â Then resumed picking at her food.
âNever an interest?â
Roxanne swallowed. Â The little muscles between her eyebrows moved, her mouth turning downward at either side. Â Her eyes focused on her plate. âI havenât officially graduated high school yet.â
âYou...â Â His gaze swept over her slight figure. Â The white of skin where her wedding band had been. Â
Sheâs a bartender. Â Married and divorced. Â Lives on her own. Of age, no question.
âDo you mind if I ask why?â
âYou want the real reason or the one I give everyone?â
âReal.â
Jesse stared at the knit of her eyebrows, willing her to look at him. Â She didnât. Pulling together the sides of his burrito, he leaned over the table and took a bite. Â Never took his eyes off of her.
âIt wasnât for me.â
The words didnât make sense. Â He chewed. Swallowed. âNo one likes high school. Â You just get through it to get on with your life.â
âI donât do things I donât want to do.â Â Her voice was quieter. âEveryoneâs fine with that except when it comes to my education on paper. Â Which is ridiculous, because if you agree with the idea, you should back it a hundred percent. Not give in to preconceived notions.â
He opened his mouth, just to shut it again and look down at his food. Â She shouldnât be forced to do things she doesnât want to do.
The idea fit, but she was right. Â The was world shaped so that you had to have education to achieve anything. Â It was the foundation of his own job. It ran the world.
That doesnât mean it has to be that way.
âYou read.â
âI do.â
âYou educate yourself. Â On your own terms.â
She pressed her lips together, her dimples winking. Â âExactly.â
âYouâre an interesting woman, Roxanne.â Â He felt his cheeks bunch in a smile.
âI have my moments.â Â Her lashes lifted like curtains to show her dark eyes. Â âIâm glad you appreciate that.â
âTrust me. Â Iâm very appreciative.â
âCareful. Â You talk like that and Iâm liable to start talking about other things too.â Â
They smiled at each other and gradually began to wear down their plates. Â She sucked down a margarita. He stuck with water, not wanting to lose his already unstable control. Â
Roxanne was enchanting. Â Her giggles. Jokes. How sheâd needle him a little, then slip in an innuendo. Â By the time they arrived back at her apartment, he had no doubts of a future with her. Â Whichever future sheâd allow him to have.
âCome in.â Â She laid her hand over his on the gear stick. Â âAishaâs at her boyfriendâs for the night. Weâll have the apartment to ourselves.â Â
The skin of his hand seemed to breathe in the heat of her body. Â Flicking the headlights on low and the car into park, he threaded his fingers through hers. Â She folded them around his hand like a tenuous lock and smiled.
âYouâre not coming up, are you?â
Jesse chuckled. Â âItâs not because I donât want to.â
âItâs because youâre a nice guy, then?â
âNo.â Â Turning, he cupped the side of her smooth face, thumbed the dent of her dimples. Â âItâs because Iâm trying really hard to pretend to be one.â
Roxanne heaved a little sigh. Â âI knew youâd be frustrating.â
He let his hand slide off her face, only to have his wrist caught in her thin grasp.
âYouâre planning on walking me to my door, arenât you?â
His gaze went to her mouth, then glanced behind him at her apartment. Â That had been the plan.
âNot happening.â Â
She dragged his hand to her chest, resting it on her breast. Â Her nipple poked at the fabric, rising to his touch along with his dick. Â He squeezed the supple flesh as she leaned forward and stroked the side of his face.
âIf you walk me to my door Iâm going to fuck you.â Â Her voice was soft but clear.
âJesus.â
âSo kiss me here.â Â