Chapter 8


Organising a quiet night out was much harder than it looked, particularly when you hadn't been home in twenty-four hours. I stood in Brock's room wrapped in a towel and frowned as he walked back into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, water sliding down his tattooed torso.

He ran a hand through his hair, brushing the water darkened strands out of his face. "What?"

"I have nothing to wear to Cue." My clothes were still in the wash and even if they were clean in time, they'd never be dry. It's not like I could throw them in the dryer, they'd shrink.

"So we'll stop at your place on the way and you can pack a bag."

He opened his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed them to make sure they were clean. Such a guy thing to do. And with a shrug he pulled his jeans on.

"A bag?"

"You're staying here tonight." 

My back stiffened and I squared my shoulders. "What if I don't want to stay here tonight?" 

His fist tightened around his shirt as he narrowed his eyes on me. "You want to go home?

"Maybe I have plans. Ever think of that?" I lifted a shoulder, trying to remain nonchalant when I knew as well as he did that I was totally bullshitting. I had no plans. And even if I did, I'd cancel them to stay here with Brock a little longer.

Brock grinned and tipped his head back in laughter. "Plans? You do realise I know your routine better than anyone?"

"I don't have a routine!" I folded my arms across my chest and pouted.

Brock crossed the room, coming to stop in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and bent his knees so we were eye level. "You spend five nights a week at Cue, and two nights at Stryke. The only night you stay home is Sunday because you have to get up at the ass crack of dawn for a 6a.m shift." 

I scowled. "You suck." With as much strength as I could muster, I shoved him in the chest. I equal parts hated that he knew my routine better than I did, and loved that he paid so much attention. My stomach did stupid flips and my face wanted to split into a grin but wouldn't let it. I was stubborn like that. 

He stumbled back from the pathetically weak force of my blow, and pulled me down with him onto the bed.

"Smooth," I said as I lost my grip on my towel. 

His arms wrapped around my waist, sliding up my back and holding me to him. "You made the first move."

"How do you figure?" 

"You pushed me first. Not my fault the only thing I could grab for balance was you.Maybe it was your plan."

I scoffed. "To what? To get you naked in bed again?"

"Maybe." He shrugged. "Maybe you're trying to take advantage of me in my half naked state."

I shook my head and bit my lip to stifle a laugh. "I don't need an elaborate plan for that."

"You don't, huh?"

Brushing my lips across his, I whispered, "Nope." Brock's hands slid up my back and wound through the wet lengths of my hair. With a tilt of his chin, he deepened the kiss, devouring my mouth and caging my heart in his strong grip a little tighter. I smiled into the kiss and pulled away slightly breathless. "You're too easy."

"Easy?" He pushed me back and in a move that happened so fast, I barely registered it, he flipped me on to my back and was hovering above me. 

"Easy." I nodded once.

"You're saying I can't resist you?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Not at all." 

I wasn't saying it because I thought highly of myself. Far from it in fact. I still didn't understand why he picked me, but I wasn't going to argue. I said it because it was true. He couldn't resist me just as much as I couldn't resist him. Years of flirting and back and forth teasing, hot and cold, and pushing the line between friends and more. It was bound to be explosive and there's no stopping it. Not now.

Brock's fingers skimmed my hips and trailed up my stomach and across my ribs as he lowered his lips to my collarbone, grazing his teeth across the bone causing goosebumps to break out across my skin and desire to flood my body.

Dammit. Freaking irresistible asshole. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers into his hair and hitched a leg over his hip, trying to bring him down to me, needing him closer, but the jerk pulled back, slipped out of my grip and moved away.

He smirked. 

And if he wasn't so irritating right then, I might have swooned a little at his dimples. But there was a challenge in his eyes because no one, and I mean no one told Brock what he could or couldn't do.

I'd just unwittingly issued the challenge.

Pushing up onto my elbows, I angled my head and studied him. He swallowed thickly and set his jaw, his eyes narrowed on a spot just above my head. 

"So, what? You're staying away from me now?" 

"Just resisting the temptation you seem to think I can't."

I pursed my lips and nodded once. "Fair enough," I said, pushing up further, until I was resting on my hands which were on the bed behind me, shamelessly pushing my breasts out. I almost gave them a shimmy but refrained. I'd save that move for another time. I was naked, my towel long forgotten on the floor where I dropped it, but there was still no shame. After everything we did today, I could contort myself into a naked pretzel in the middle of his bed and not bat an eye.

"I know what your doing Lake. It's not going to work."

I gave him my best innocent expression. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not giving in, no matter how much you try. I will resist."

"We'll see." I smiled and threw myself back on his bed, stretching out as seductively as I could. Though I imagined I looked less like a sexy stripper and more like a baby giraffe with neck problems.

"Game on," Brock ground out through clenched teeth before leaned down and picked up my towel. He threw it at me and stormed out of the room. "You need some damn clothes."

I chuckled. Thirty seconds and he was already pissed off. I could imagine what he'd be like after trying to avoid me for longer than tonight. 

Irritated. Angry. Bossy. Demanding.

I couldn't wait. 

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