Dirty English
Page 25

And check. No attachments.
“My gain.” I grinned.
He laughed, a gleam in his eyes as his gaze lingered on my legs and then moved up to the red halter top. I was tall and slim, but my breasts were a good C cup.
“What are you doing here?” He leaned against the stacks, calling attention to the nice set of arms he had. Hmm, closer up, he was definitely hotter.
“Hanging out. Looking for a guy like you.” I peeked at him from underneath black lashes and laughed. This part was always so easy, mostly because I wasn’t being myself. I pretended to be someone else.
Someone who didn’t carry pain around.
I bit my lip. “Sorry, I tend to talk before my brain can tell me to shut up. That was way too forward and you probably think I’m a flirt—but I’m not. It’s just—I go with the truth. I’m upfront and some people kinda freak out about that.”
“No, I like it.” He cleared his throat and waved his hand outside to the street. “I was actually about to go have dinner across the street. You want to join me?”
“Sure.” Success.
WE LEFT THE bookstore and along the way I explained to Harry how I didn’t drink and never spent time with guys who did. He seemed on board with it, and we found a quiet booth in the back of the restaurant and ordered hamburgers and fries. Before long, a local band set up and started playing, and the lights went low. Harry scooted his chair close to me, his leg pressed firmly against mine. I reciprocated, brushing my arm against his when I could, letting my fingers touch him as often as possible. Before dinner was over, his hand was tucked into my upper thigh, his thumb caressing my skin softly.
The way he made me feel and the way he gazed at me was nice, but something was off. There was no fire, no burning need. I forced myself to carry on though.
He asked me to dance when a slow song came on, but I said no. I immediately regretted it. He was the one for tonight. Right? Why was I being so wishy-washy?
“Kiss me,” I whispered in Harry’s ear a few minutes later as we still sat at the table.
Feeling like I had something to prove.
He leaned down and captured my lips, his tongue slipping into my mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Light, nothing hard or hot.
Flashes of Declan kept popping up in my head, and I remembered how just the tiniest brush of my hand in his had been electric.
Where was he tonight?
Why did I care?
He’d made it plain he wasn’t into one-night stands.
And that’s what this was all about. It didn’t have to be spectacular like I imagined sex would be with Declan.
Mmm, Declan … his big body covering mine, his sensuous lips caressing my mouth, his hands framing my face as we kissed …
“… next Friday night at the bonfire. Want to come?”
I startled as he toyed with my fingers, his head bent low as he gazed into my eyes.
I tried to piece together what conversation I’d missed. “Oh, sorry. I can’t.”
Disappointment flashed on his face. “You’re distracted. Am I that horrible of a kisser?”
Suddenly everything felt wrong. Him. Dinner. The touching. The kiss.
He kissed me again when I didn’t answer, his lips more insistent this time, his tongue massaging mine. He groaned and I put some effort into the act, parting my lips and rubbing his leg with my hands, skating close to the growing length in his crotch. Our hands were hidden, and I pushed on him, making him moan. He put his hand on top of mine, grinding it on top of him.
“I want you, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “Right now. Let’s get out of here. Mmm?” He nipped at my lips playfully while his eyes begged me to say yes.
But …
Something was niggling in the corners of my brain.
Don’t do it.
“Actually, I need to go.” I pulled away from him and put some distance between us in the booth. He wasn’t the guy on my mind, and it wouldn’t be fair. I needed some time to think. Maybe I’d rushed into this a little too fast. “Look, it’s great touching base with you, but I—I didn’t realize it’s already kinda late. Classes start tomorrow.”
His face fell. “Seriously? After all that?”
I picked up my purse. “College calls, and I’m serious about my studies. Maybe we can run into each other again.” I looked at my watch. “Plus you have a professor to impress tomorrow.”
He let out a heavy sigh and rose up from the booth, looking at me intently. “That’s too bad. I kinda felt like we were just getting good here.” He blushed. “You’re a gorgeous girl, Elizabeth—and nice, of course. I’d really love to see you again.”
“Sorry, I can’t.” My voice had sharpened. “I need to get to my car and get home.”
He shrugged it off and we each paid our checks and walked outside together. It was dark, and I dreaded the walk back to my car at the bookstore. We walked in a strained silence. His car was a few rows over from mine and after telling him goodnight, I turned back to mine.
He grabbed my hand and tugged me back.
“What are you doing?”
“Come on, babe, don’t you want to hang out some more? I don’t want this night to end.”
Babe? Didn’t want this night to end? Hmm, Harry was more of a player than I realized.
“I have to go.” I eased my hand free. Clingy guys made me itchy.
“Wait. Can I get your phone number at least? I mean, it kinda feels like fate, us meeting at the bookstore …”