Fighting Lust: A Deadly Sins Novel (16 page)

“But all men aren’t like that. You really do know that, right?”

Her brows furrow, “Not really. I mean come on…even you…I mean the night you and I hooked up, I saw the way you were looking at me in the bar. If I hadn’t approached you first, you would have come to me yourself. Clearly, you aren’t a stranger to the random hook up yourself.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that I am. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t possibly be interested in more.”

“You really expect me to believe that you aren’t hoping to fuck me again?” she asks, her use of the word fuck both shocking and stimulating.

“I didn’t say that-” I begin.

“See!” she says throwing her hands in the air as if she’s won.

“Now, wait just a minute. You’re gorgeous, and in the bathroom at the bar...” my mouth has gone dry at the thought and I lick my lips. “Hell, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t hot as fuck and that I haven’t thought about it since. But that doesn’t mean it’s all I want from you. Are you telling me that you don’t feel anything else between us, at all?”

“I didn’t say that…” she hesitates. Sitting back, I cross my arms and smile. “Oh please,” she says, “I may feel an attraction to you, and there is no doubt that dinner with you is a nice change. I haven’t done this in…” she breaks off like she’s trying to remember, “well, let’s just say a really long time. But, you have to admit that it’s all because you want it to lead to the bedroom, or back to a bar sink.”

I’m momentarily speechless. I mean do I want to have sex with her again? Fuck yes. The moment I had with her was explosive and I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time reliving it in my head. I want to touch her again, feel her hot and smooth skin under mine. I want our bodies to move together, both of us in a feverish race to get to that high at the end. But looking at her now, seeing the kaleidoscope of emotions in her eyes as she makes it clear that it’s all she’s ever known, all anyone has ever wanted, I feel an overwhelming need to prove her wrong. To make the pain she’s trying to hide between her eyes, go away. To show her what it’s like to be with someone who wants more, to show her how that feels.

I don’t know where any of this is coming from. It’s confusing as hell. I vowed I would never do this again. I don’t want to get my heart involved with anyone – ever. I never wanted to allow myself to be vulnerable with anyone ever again either, but right now, all the reasons and excuses seem to fade, and all I see is her - and I see what could be.

“What if I can prove your wrong?”

His face is serious – there’s not a lick of humor on it anywhere. No amusement in his eyes, no flicker of a smile on his lips. “What do you mean? Prove me wrong how?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, we’re interrupted. “We understand you’re celebrating a birthday!” Our waitress is at our table once again and her appearance is so abrupt I jump in my seat. When I notice she’s not alone, I’m confused until her words register and I see the candle lit dessert in her hands. One of them places a large item next to the table, while another hands me a large cowboy hat.

With them all staring at me expectantly, I look at Ryder. Amusement colors his face now as he takes in my no doubt panicked expression. He nods and winks, “Yep, that’s right. This is the birthday girl!” I narrow my eyes at him and his smile only grows, not caring about my ire one bit.

“What’s your name?” the waitress asks.

“Tessa,” I tell her softly.

“What was that?” she asks louder and holy hell her voice is booming.

“Tessa,” I say louder.

To my horror she turns to the diners surrounding us at the other tables and yells louder still, “TESSA is celebrating her…” she looks to me. I only then realize she is also entreating those dining inside, so is ensuring that she projects through the window and door.

“Um, I’m twenty-five.”

“HER TWENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY!” she yells. Some people ignore them, although I don’t know how, and a few good sports clap. The wait staff cheers and claps and I have to confess I’m a bit impressed with their enthusiasm. “Come on Tessa, climb on up,” our waitress instructs as she pats the item sitting next to the table. Upon closer inspection, I realize the item is a large riding saddle sitting atop a pedestal. She wants me to sit on it? No. Way. I look at Ryder first and see he’s still smiling. Okay, then, no help there. “Um, no that’s okay,” I say to her, “may not work well with what I am wearing.”

“Oh come on! We have fun with birthdays around here! EVERYONE, let’s cheer for Tessa and get her on the saddle.”

I really don’t know who I want to kill more at this point – her or Ryder. It really is a toss up. As I stand, I glance at Ryder again and mouth, “So. Dead.” He chuckles and adds, “Come on Tessa, climb on up! You can just sit side saddle!” He’s so dead.

Getting out of my seat, I look Ryder straight in the eye as I throw my hair over my shoulder. My dress is long and I could sit sidesaddle, but if he wants a show, I’ll give him one. Slowly, little by little, I lift the long skirt of my dress, revealing inch after inch of leg. Glancing at Ryder, I see his eyes fixed to the skin I’m exposing and he swallows hard. As if just realizing others are also getting an eyeful, he looks up and catches a waiter staring too and his eyes narrow dangerously. Serves him right. Guess he didn’t think this through. Carefully, I straddle the damn thing, being sure not to flash everyone my goods in the process. Gathering my skirt in front of me, Ryder’s eyes are once again locked on my exposed leg on his side. When he finally looks me in my face again, I bite my lip seductively and wink. “Yee-haw,” I say making him throw back his head in laughter.

They take the hat that I set on the table while I gathered my skirt up and place it on my head. It smells like wet straw, which grosses me out and I wonder about all the people that have worn it before me. After the staff all huddle for a moment, they turn to me and as one begin to sing.

“Happy, Happy, Birthday, three cheers from us to you! Don’t worry you sexy cowgirl, you don’t look more than twenty-two! HEY!”

As if this humiliation isn’t enough, someone yells out, “Smile!” When I follow the sound, someone is holding up a Polaroid camera. At this point I think, what the hell? Striking a pose and what I know is an overdone smile, I make sure to glam it up, making Ryder laugh once more. Truth is, I find I like making him do that. Even if he is digging his grave deeper and deeper with his constant laughing at me.

They hand me the photo and nicely help me off of the saddle. I’m careful, keeping my dress down, and then finally let it fall back to my feet as I stand. I hear the band singing happy birthday in the background and turn to wave them thanks. As they all disperse, I sit back in my seat and blow out the candle on my dessert. Ryder is still smiling happily, so I give him the stink eye. “This was so not funny.”

He leans forward and snatches the printed photo from my fingers. “I’ll take that.”

“Hey!”

He blows on it, trying to bring the image into focus faster. “And that is why I told them it’s your birthday. Because there is no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to watch that show, and to get this.” He faces the picture toward me and I have to admit, it’s pretty awesome. Awesomely embarrassing.

As he chuckles at my frown, he tries to take a piece of my cake. I stab at his fork, “Nope. Not on your life, buddy. I earned this.” He laughs and it makes me giggle too. This is fun, and I like him. A lot. I take in his amused smile, the way he’s looking at the picture and something inside of me softens. Just a little. Quickly on its heels is nervousness at the feelings he evokes. I push them aside and get back to the conversation we were having before we were interrupted. “So, before our fake birthday party, I believe you mentioned something about proving me wrong?”

He puts the picture down and watches me take another bite of cake. “Yes. I propose a challenge.”

“A challenge?”

“Yep. I want to prove to you that not all guys only want sex when they’re interested in someone.”

“And how can you do that?”

“By telling you that for one month I can keep my dick to myself with the goal of getting to know you outside of the bedroom first. No sex.”

“No sex for only one month? You think you’ll learn everything there is to know about me by then?”

“Well first of all, I’m not a fucking saint, Tessa,” he laughs. “I mean, you’re hot, I’m incredibly attracted to you and…”

“And?” I ask feeling shivers all over my body at the look on his face. He’s running his tongue along his bottle top and his eyes are on my chest and slowly moving up.

“And…I remember absolutely every single detail of being with you.” Based on the flare and widening of his eyes with his words, I’d bet a million dollars I don’t have that he’s picturing me naked right now.

“I’m attracted to you too,” I say not willing to tell him that I remember being with him too. Every. Detail.

“Obviously,” he remarks with pure cockiness and it’s sexy as hell. “Look,” he begins, “when I found out that you work at the hospital, I tried to come up with an excuse to show up again. I was just lucky when Levi got hurt and good fortune smiled down at me. Then, I showed up at the house to help for a reason.”

“Which is?”

“I want to get to know you – the real you. I want to explore whatever this is between us. Does that mean that I’m ruling out hot sex in our future? Hell no. That’s not it at all. I’m not going to lie about that, truth is, I totally want to get you naked, but…” He looks out into the distance before looking back at me again, seriousness crossing his face once more. I stay silent, waiting for him to continue. “Fuck. I don’t usually talk about feelings and shit but you,” he sighs, “there’s something about you that turns me into this unrecognizable guy. I’m feeling things, thinking things, and wanting things that I haven’t in a long time.”

I’m wondering what possessed him to say that. I can feel myself withdraw a little in fear at his comment. I’m scared to let someone into my life the way he’s suggesting he wants to be. And he notices.

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you,” he begins. “I haven’t had a relationship in a long time. Fact is, the way you approached me in the bar? You’re right; I’m no stranger to that. In fact, it’s my MO and I think it’s in part what drew me to you. You treated me the exact same way I treat women. Fuck and run, nothing more. And when you did that? You managed to do something no one has in a long time.”

“What’s that?”

“You got my attention. But there’s more to it than that, and some time, I’ll tell you what it is. I think I’ve said enough for now, but just know that I want more of you. The little bit I’ve gotten so far, it’s not nearly enough.”

“What if I’m not capable of that?” I ask. He has no idea what he’s potentially asking. No one alive wants to see what’s underneath all the cushy layers of protection I’ve managed to cover myself with over the years.

“Then you aren’t, and you tell me, and we move on.” He puts his elbows on the table and leans toward me, “I’m going to ask you an honest question.”

“Okay,” I reply feeling nervous.

“I’m assuming I’m not your first hook up?”

“No,” I laugh dryly. “Not by a long shot,” I reply and immediately look down, feeling nervous to look at him after my admission. Until I feel his fingers gently pushing up my chin. When I’m looking at him again, I feel his thumb caress my cheek and then he drops his hand. “Do you want to continue with meaningless sex? Picking up guys in bars? Is that all you think you’ll ever want? Nothing more?”