DELINQUENT

SIX

Mr. Preston my f*****g ass.

I tossed him the keys as he rounded the car. He plucked them out of the air with grace, stopping just in front of me. Our closeness left me uncomfortable, the heat radiating off his chest, the sloppy grin on his face. I looked at my feet.

Did I hug him goodnight? Slap him a high five? A handshake seemed weird.

Struggling to work out a proper exit strategy, I settled on blunt. I flashed him a tight smile before turning on my heel and crossing the street. I jumped forward a step when his hand found the small of my back mid-step.

It was undemanding, nothing more than a sign that he was there, with me. I cast him a look out of the corner of my eye. His face was unreadable, eyes trained on the street ahead. He walked us through the smokers to the door of the building.

That familiar uneasy feeling crossed me again. I gave this goodbye the same approach. I unlocked the building's door and without a word, closed it in his face.

He knocked, aggravated.

Un-f*****g-believable.

Tom waved at me through the aged glass paned door. "What?" I said.

"I'm drunk. Do you really want me to drive home?"

"I don't care what happens to you." I said. My body reacted to the lie with sweat, betraying me.

"What about everyone else on the road?" He smiled, knowing he had me. He bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows. An image I would never be able to get out of my head. Jameson Neat on my doorstep begging for a place to sleep.

Sighing softly, I looked away from him, "Sleep in your car." I deadpanned.

"I tried. Somebody woke me up." He tilted his head to the side. A game. He was playing with me. I couldn't encourage this, his constant teasing and taunting. He tilted his head further to the side.

Fuck.

I opened the door. I was a sucker. "The minute you're sober, you're leaving."

"Scout's honor." He teased before lumbering ahead of me. Cocky bastard. Didn't even know which apartment was mine but thought he was going to lead the way.

"Third floor." I directed, nudging him to the stairs.

"No elevator?" He complained as we worked our way up.

"No elevator." I confirmed. He groaned, his footsteps growing heavier with each step. I clenched my teeth to stop the laugh from bubbling out. There was totally an elevator.

After a slew of obnoxious complaints, we made it. I opened the door and flipped on the lights. Tom slipped in beside me quickly, walking around in a small circle to take it all in. His eyes left nothing unturned. It took all of thirty seconds. "Just move in?"

"Yeah."

"Stuff still on the way. . .?" He put his arms out expectantly.

"Nope, but trust me - the floor is very comfortable." I threw him one last bright mocking smile before ducking into the bathroom.

I rinsed the makeup off my face, brushed my teeth and put my hair up in a low bun for the night. Shutting off the light, in the dark, I guided myself with a hand along the wall to my bedroom. It took a moment, searching up and down before my hand met the switch. I flipped it on. Light poured over me.

My heart stopped.

There he was, in all his dastardly glory. Exactly like I had pictured it. Spread out across my bed, shirtless.

His eyes closed.

While I was mad at where he had passed out, I took advantage of it.

I let myself fall into a trance as I wandered over his tattoos. Gnarled like branches, they weaved into each other. On closer inspection, they weren't just lines but densely packed masterpieces.

Delicate words, flowers, and grenades dotted so closely they were indistinguishable at a distance. He must have spent hours, days in a chair under the hands of an incredibly skilled artist.

I stepped closer, needing to see more. A tremor ran through me as leaned over him. There weren't just tattoos. Brands. He had brands laced in with them, adding texture and dimension to the spindly ink. Who would put themselves through that torture?

"Looking is for free - touching is gonna cost you." He joked. I jumped back. When had he opened his eyes? My face went beet red.

"As if." I scoffed and twisted around to sort through my closet.

Tom chuckled at my clear discomfort. "I, like you," he continued, "charge more than you can afford."

I plucked my pajamas from the pile. An oversized shirt courtesy of a long gone ex. Twirling around to him, shirt in hand I moved to him. I didn't think. I let the adrenaline move me as I crawled onto the bed. My hand caressed the outside of his thigh and ventured upwards.

"How about we both just wave our fees for the night?" I said it breathlessly, and without meaning to, my voice hitched up an octave.

He licked his lips. Confused at my change of heart. He didn't overthink it. His eyes darkened and he leaned forward.

I snapped back, laughing. "Or not." I said between triumphant gasps.

He grabbed me before I could get out of reach. In a lightning fast move, he pulled me down against the bed and flipped himself over on top of me. His hands on my wrists, he pressed his body against mine.

"Nobody likes a f*****g tease." He growled. I strained under his tight grip. He loosened it a hair.

"Don't worry." His breath was hot against my skin. "I still like you." He admitted. My body thrummed, thrilled with the confession. My eyes darted to his lips, less than an inch away.

If I just leaned forward.

I gave in, lifting my head just barely, our lips met. I thought that would be it a simple kiss, a peck sparking new romance.

Tom thought differently. He laid into me, dominated me. He tore at my mouth, his tongue and lips making a mess of me.

He was insatiable. So was I. He let go of my wrists and pulled my hair out of its tie. Loose, he wound his hand into it, tugging at it, a moan fell from me. His other hand found my hip, he squeezed at it hard, pressing me deep into the mattress.

He jerked back. On his knees over me, he ran a hand over his forehead. With a sigh, he let himself collapse face down onto the bed beside me.

Regret filled my bones. What had I done? He had intoxicated me, infiltrated my defenses in less than a week. "Tom?" I whispered. No response, no movement from him. I turned onto my side and a light snore left his mouth.

Dear lord, I had kissed the man to sleep.

Super sexy Mila at it again.

His snoring went up a decibel by the time I changed into my ratty shirt and snuck into bed next to him.

The unrelenting embarrassment had me awake for hours.