CHAPTER 13 #2
“No matter what happens, whether you can look at me without wanting to strangle me or not,” one side of his mouth kicks up, “I’d like to be in Vanessa’s life. That can be whatever you and her are comfortable with.”
“I don’t understand,” I admit, my eyebrows pulling together. “Why?”
“I look forward to seeing her and spending time with her,” he pauses and I look into his eyes filled with a longing that makes my heart pound in my chest, “and with you.”
“This isn’t going to end well,” I whisper my warning to him, hoping he hears it, hoping I hear it too.
“If I end up hurt, it’s fine,” he states it like he’s already accepted his words as an inevitability. “I just don’t want to hurt you or Vanessa.”
My shoulders slump because I have nothing to say. He’s being upfront and honest. I can see it written all over his face.
Can I really force this man out of Vanessa’s life just because he was tricked by Lola?
He lets his confession sit between us for a beat before he stands up and cleans up the table. I watch him and wonder what I’m going to do with this man.
My gut is telling me that I’m not going to be able to shake him off anytime soon. Maybe I don’t want to.
“Your dad called me about taking Vanessa out on his bike,” I blurt out the words, needing to fill the silence.
“He did?” The look on his face has me pressing my lips together to stop the laughter from bubbling out. He looks completely thrown, but he shakes it off quickly. “You should let him.”
“Excuse me? I should let your father take my daughter out on a death machine?” I sound incredulous as hell and more than a little shrill.
“He’s a good rider,” he assures me. As if it’s enough. It’s not. After tilting his head slightly he asks, “Did this come out of nowhere?”
“No,” I admit begrudgingly, “Vanessa asked him at the BBQ and then told me to expect his call.”
“He won’t take her out if you don’t want him to,” his words come out rushed, his tone attempting to be reassuring.
“I know.”
Relief is written across his features. “He’ll make sure she’s safe and has the right gear to ride.”
“I know,” I sigh the confirmation this time. “We talked about it and he already ordered her a helmet and jacket but needed to know her shoe size before getting a pair of boots.”
Playboy grins and nods eagerly as if I’ve already agreed to this little adventure. I haven’t. I’m still thinking about it.
But Vanessa knows I’ve basically said yes because she won’t let me get away with anything else. The girl would wear me down to nothing if I didn’t agree.
I’m not worried about her being safe, other than the fact that she’ll be on a motorcycle. There’s no doubt in my mind that Rumble will do everything in his power to make sure she loves the ride and comes back to me in one piece.
I’m worried about whether allowing her to become more entangled with the SOMC is a good thing.
“I was on the back of his bike around that same age,” his voice is wistful as he looks away. “All the club kids were.”
“Vanessa isn’t a club kid,” I point out.
Playboy just shrugs and doesn’t say anything right away. When I stand up, he takes a step closer to me. “You should still let him do it,” his voice turns husky and his eyes dart down to my lips.
I lick my lips without even thinking about it. The question comes out breathier than I’d like, “Why?”
“Because they’ll both have a blast,” he explains. “And because you’re a really good mom and you’ve realized this is a chance to expand your daughter’s horizons.”
A scathing retort is on the tip of my tongue, but it dies as Playboy takes another step closer to me. The distance between us is completely gone now. All I can feel is the heat coming off his body.
As the air around us charges with something lusty and needy, I try to tell myself to step away and put distance between us. My feet stay rooted right where they are.
His large hands come up and cup my face, his brown eyes darkening as he studies me. “Tell me to back off.”
His words are a warning. A plea. A hope.
I don’t say anything.
Then his lips are pressed against mine. The kiss is gentle at first, filled with something tentative and fragile. I’m not sure if he’s waiting for me to pull away, slap him, or scream.
But I can’t do any of those things. Because all I can do is feel the way his other arm wraps around my waist and pulls me closer. And the way his body goes rigid as he tilts my head and deepens the kiss, his tongue invading my mouth like he’s out to win a damn war.
Maybe he is.
Kissing Playboy is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s hot, heavy, and filled with dirty promises. There’s something else as well, something reverent and lasting.
My mind drifts and I get lost in kissing him. His mouth leaves mine whenever we both need to breathe before devouring me again. He doesn’t let up and before I know it, I’m clinging to his shoulders because my legs are no longer able to support me.
Just as I snap back to reality and my muscles tense to push him away, small footsteps can be heard coming back toward the kitchen. Playboy pulls away first. Very fucking slowly.
His eyes search mine before he lets go and steps out of my personal bubble. The loss of his nearness shouldn’t feel profound, but it does.
“I’m done,” Vanessa shouts as she rushes into the kitchen while waving a piece of paper above her head.
She doesn’t look at us like we’ve just been caught doing something we shouldn’t; she doesn’t even notice.
When Vanessa hands him the drawing, he holds it up and looks at it for a long moment. It’s not the kind of moment adults use to prepare themselves to spew bullshit. He looks at it with an appraising, and serious, eye.
“I think this one is even better,” he praises her instead of brushing her off.
Another crack in my resolve forms. Damn it.
“I should get going,” he glances at me and I swear I see him blush, “I know you ladies have an early start tomorrow.”
“That’s what I hate most about school,” Vanessa gripes, “waking up.”
With a laugh and an awkward look in my direction, because I’m now committed to doing my best statue impersonation, Playboy is gone. But I feel the press of his lips against mine for a long time.
I’ll never admit just how long.