Read Hooked #2 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 2) Online
Authors: Claire Adams
“Great!”
Drew swallowed slowly. I could hear it.
The man helped us latch ourselves into the bungee
suits. He attached the bungee cord to us tightly, utilizing the metal clasp. He
tugged at it from behind, making sure that it was soundly latched. We jerked
back with it, nearly falling to our deaths below.
“Hey, hey. Easy there,” Drew murmured.
“All right, city folks,” the man said. “You can go
ahead up there and ease forward and jump together. We usually hold hands when
we do it. Easier to stay in line that way.”
I looked up at Drew, this man who hadn’t ACTUALLY
thought he was going to go bungee jumping that day. “You look good in that
bungee suit,” I whispered to him. I grabbed his hand.
He looked down at me, at my body, at my breasts. I
could tell he wanted
me, that
I was his, truly, in
that moment. He reached toward me, without Cubs cameras watching, without
people noticing, and kissed me soundly. Our eyes met together as he took his
lips away, licking them lightly.
We took the step up to the edge and looked down. We
were about seventy feet in the air, seven or eight stories. We were higher than
my apartment building; we were as high as that hotel room had been the previous
week. I tried to imagine what it would feel like, tossing myself to this wind.
“Remember. We
ain’t
got
all day,” the man called to us. The wind had started to pick up.
I inched forward once more, tugging Drew with me. He
was grinning, his wolf teeth out,
his
hair raveling
through the wind. “You’re an adventurous girl,” he called to me.
“I know.”
“If we die here today, what will happen?”
“I assume the world will continue turning!” I called
back.
He laughed at this. “I think I like you, Molly
Atwood!” I could hardly hear his voice through the wind.
My heart surged into my throat as we took our leap
into the bungee jump. We free-fell through the air, our hands clasped together
between us and our free hands out, like we were flying. We fell fast through
the air, not feeling the rope tug at our behinds until we were just twenty feet
from the ground. I emitted a slow scream as we neared the rocks below; closer
and closer and closer.
But the sheer adrenaline pulsed in my brain and in
my ears. I watched as the beautiful trees greeted us on both sides, as the
crispness of the air lurched into my throat, into my stomach. When we began to
swing at the very bottom of the great leap, I started laughing haphazardly. My
hand still remained in
Drew’s
.
I turned toward him and saw his ashen face, his
strong smile. He shook his head at me, as if he had never experienced anything
so grand. “What the hell,” he yelled out. “What the hell!”
The man and his overall wife eased us down to the
ground, where we unlatched ourselves from the bungee cord. We grabbed each other
close and started kissing, as if we had avoided sure death. I was thinking that
the man and the wife still on the platform surely saw this all the time; the
assurance of two people that they had avoided sure death. I wondered if it ever
got old.
I flashed a pretty, confident smile at this man
before me. I wrapped my slim arms behind his back and kissed his broad,
brilliant lips. “What do you think of that?” I whispered.
“I can’t think of it. All I can think of is you.”
Drew murmured back.
We piled back into the van behind the husband and
wife duo. We breathed heavily the entire way back to the parked Porsche. “Has
anything ever gone wrong?” Drew asked the two owners.
The man spoke gruffly, utilizing vague words. “Oh,
you know. We have this happen, that happen.”
My eyes fluttered along with Drew’s as we grinned
together in the secret discovery; we had survived something truly grand
together.
Finally, back in the Porsche, I curled up in the
front seat, feeling confident. I asked Drew as many questions as I could think
of in those moments. “You really haven’t been bungee jumping have you?”
“Well—I mean. No. I haven’t,” he declared, grinning
at me.
“Why did you want to go so badly today?” I asked
him.
“You know. I just wanted to push myself, push you.
See what you would do. I know you’re angry with me about—about everything you
heard me say. But you have to understand; guys say dumb shit all the time.” He held
his hands high on the steering wheel. I longed to curl up with him, to talk to
him about everything and anything. What had his life been like before he met
me, really? Why was he attracted to me—a lifeless nobody—anyway?
“Well. It was one of the best days of my life,” I
murmured to him. I was surprised that I let him know so much of myself in that
moment, but some small part of me didn’t care. I shrugged, knowing in my heart
that this fake relationship, that this lovely life that had sprung from
nowhere, was not to last. Not at all. And so I decided to be honest, to be
truthful. What did I have to lose?
Although, it was true these days that I didn’t have
a job to my name, that I didn’t have an ounce of savings. These things were not
to be helped.
We stopped for brief burgers on the way back to the
city. “Best I’ve ever had, hands down,” Drew said to me, his eyebrows high on
his forehead. “Seriously.”
He swooshed through the drive-thru, told the man on
the other line his name. “Hey, man. It’s Drew. Can I have two of the regular?”
And the regular came to him as we rushed around to
the window. The thirty-something guy who manned the grill came toward him in
the window and brought his hand forward, high-fiving Drew as if they were old
buds. “Drew, my man,” he said in a pure Chicago accent. “We got you two of the
regular, and I threw in some extra fries. For you and the lady.” He leaned down
and looked at me, grinning. “Hey, ma’am. I’m Ty.”
“Good to meet you,” I said, mustering as much
sweetness as I could. The inside of the restaurant was pulsing with grease and
an old-fashioned 50’s burger joint attitude. I smiled as Drew handed me the
dripping bag.
“Ty, it’s always a pleasure,” Drew said. He handed
him a one hundred dollar bill and nodded at him. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Looking forward to it, Drew,” Ty said, stepping
back and placing the hundred in his white breast pocket. He waved his hand
toward us as we sped away.
I felt the grease dripping on my leg. “What is
this?” I asked Drew.
Drew reached his hand in the top and pulled out a
wrapped burger. “That, my dear, is the greasiest most delicious restaurant in
all of Chicago—or perhaps all the world. That man, Ty, was my next-door
neighbor when I grew up a poor Chicago boy. We did everything together. And
now—well. He owns a burger joint. And god, they’re delicious. Just try.” He
unfolded the side of the burger and gave me a hint of it. I bit, feeling the
wonderful texture of perfectly-spiced, perfectly-cooked burger emanate in my
mouth. A small bit of Dijon mustard coursed through my taste buds.
“Oh, god,” I murmured. I hadn’t tasted anything so
brilliant in my life.
“Right? I know. Anyway, I try to give him good
business. He’s in a bad part of town. I want to bring him in with us, in Wicker
Park. But I don’t know if my stomach will hold up, eating this stuff every day.
You tried a fry yet?”
And so we feasted together, there in his beautiful,
sparkly-clean Porsche. I remembered how my mother had never wanted me to eat in
her minivan. And here we were, enjoying some of the greasiest food the world
over. I shook my head at Drew as he changed lanes, spinning us back to our
illustrious Wicker Park.
We arrived outside the apartment building, stuffing
our trash back in the damp, greased bag. I shook my head, licking my fingers.
“You know. Nothing makes you hungrier than thinking you’re about to die,” I
said to him.
Drew tossed his head back, padding his napkin across
his mouth. “I’d say that’s infinitely true. We were in the wake of death up
there on that platform, and now we’re in the wake of death eating too much
cholesterol.” He shrugged. “You win some; you lose some.”
I laughed in the darkness outside of the apartment
building. I looked up at my balcony, thinking only of the drabness of my
apartment, of all the Netflix waiting for me in my bedroom. And yet; the light,
the passion behind Drew’s eyes kept me outside, lurking. What was I waiting
for?
Our eyes met. Drew brought his face forward and
clasped his lips against mine, there in front of the building. I closed my
eyes, even as swarms of people passed us, even as the cars of the great Chicago
city honked and jabbed at each other. He slipped his tongue into my mouth,
sliding it past my own, sending shivers down my spine. He was, remarkably, the
most wonderful kisser I had ever known. I felt so horny; my pussy was damp in
my tight, slim-fitting black pants. I longed to pull him on top of me, to have
him fuck me.
But I couldn’t.
He pulled away, sensing a change in me. He paused.
“Do you want to head up to my apartment? Marty’s not there this evening. And I
have really good whiskey. The best whiskey.” He looked at me hopefully. His
eyes screamed at me, forcing me to remember the expert skill of his sexuality,
the way he had fucked me there against that window all those days before.
But my mind raced. “I—I can’t,” I murmured. I backed
away, running my fingers through my hair. I was certain this was it, in that
moment. If I didn’t go up with him, if I didn’t allow him to take me home, then
it was over. I would no longer be a notch in his belt. I could be free of this
strange, sexual, “love game” that he so often played. Instead, I could focus on
bettering my own life.
I continued; “I have to wake up early tomorrow. I
have a huge job interview on Monday morning, and I need to prepare all day.” I
raised my eyebrows at him, as if to say I didn’t care at all; as if to say it
was his loss.
I expected him to stomp away, to accept his loss.
But his eyes looked large, hopeful. “I understand,” he murmured. He put his
hand on my waist. “But I have to see you again.”
I wanted to rush away. What was this guy’s plan?
Wasn’t he going to move onto the next notch, the next woman? Wouldn’t I hear
him talking about some other bimbo on the balcony in just a few days, when
memory of this truly spectacular day together had faded in his ever-seeking
mind?
But he looked at me hopefully. “You can choose the
place this time,” he said. He moved his fingers along my trim figure. “We don’t
have to do any extreme sports or even eat any—burgers. If you don’t want.”
I laughed for a moment in spite of myself. I bit my
lip. My heart was racing. “You know. I have to ask you something, Drew. Why are
you so interested in me, in dating me?” I swallowed, allowing the understanding
of who I truly was to come rushing back to me. I was a poor, lifeless sap. I
had nothing to give, nothing to offer. “If you really knew who I was, you
wouldn’t want anything to do with me. Trust me.” I allowed my neck to drape
down. My chin met my chest.
But Drew didn’t respond to this. “I want to know who
you are,” he murmured. “I want to know everything about you. Why don’t we just
go on another date, and you can tell me everything?” He took a step closer to
me and peered deeply into my eyes. “That way, I can decide on my own. Don’t you
think that’s fair?”
I felt his breath, hot on my neck as he kissed me
there, moving up toward my ear. I felt my breasts pulse into his chest. I
wanted him. I wanted him inside me. I closed my eyes. “One more date. Okay,” I
murmured. Our eyes met once more in the darkness. I heard a catcall across the
street; someone was watching this moment between us.
I started toward the door, confused why Drew wasn’t
following me. “Don’t you live here, too?” I called back.
He smiled, nodding. He gestured with his head. “I
have to take the Porsche back to the garage. She’s no good out here on the
street by herself. I’ll see you tomorrow? Your choice?”
I nodded, feeling a bit let down. I longed to feel
his arms around me again. “Yes, of course,” I murmured. I turned back toward
the apartment building and placed my key in the lock, feeling his eyes on me as
I entered. I sauntered up the steps, down the familiar hallway, and into the
tiny, grey apartment I shared with Boomer.
There, I collapsed on the couch and brought my hands
to my face, to my breasts. I didn’t realize that I was breathing so heavily,
that the passion from the previous day’s events had nearly brought me to my
knees. I lay there, daydreaming for many hours before finally falling into a
deep, dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER
FOUR
The next morning, I woke with a renewed sense of
hope—and a cat strewn over my belly. I had slept on the couch, and the late
September morning sunlight was coursing in through the window. I grinned,
picking my cat up and holding him in my arms.
The evening before had been everything. It had
pushed the limits beyond what I thought a date could be. I had felt his arms
around me; I had felt his fear as we leapt into the air. And, I had felt his
care for me as he had asked me for another date.