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“Good.”
Hunter turns her attention to me. “Can you recommend a nearby hotel?”
“You can stay with me,” Brighton offers cheerfully.
I shoot Hunter a look as a surge of disappointment fills me. I was just about to make the same offer. But, it’s probably just as well. Having Hunter in my house and all to myself would be far too tempting. A complication I don’t need right now.
At least that’s what I try to convince myself. Because I don’t bring women home. Most of my hookups happen somewhere exotic, halfway across the world, before or after a heist. The idea of bringing a woman into my house, my private domain, feels too much like a relationship.
“Thanks,” Hunter says.
“You’re going to need to borrow some clothes, too. I think you and Addie are more the same size, though,” Brighton comments.
“I’ll bring you some things,” Addie tells Hunter.
Yes, Hunter is definitely shaped more like Addie than Brighton. I take a moment to admire her tall, lithe figure with curves in all the right places. She hasn’t taken her bomber jacket off since we met, but her fitted tank top beneath has caught my attention a few different times. Or, if I’m being completely honest, it’s the perfect swell of her round assets that’s snagged my interest.Her cup runneth over.Those breasts look to be a very generous size C, and my palms are itching to confirm my estimation.
A woman’s body is an amazing creation. One I could explore and worship for hours on end. And Hunter’s rack is calling to me like a siren.
Yeah, it’s best she goes to Brighton’s place tonight. The last thing I want to do is make Hunter uncomfortable and pull out of the heist. First and foremost, we need a pilot. And, yeah, my dick has needs, too, but he’s going to have to wait.
You hear that, buddy?
As we all walk out of A-Squared, I hang back, eyes glued to Hunter’s ass. Apparently, my dick didn’t get the memo and has no intention of laying low.
“See something you like?” Ryder asks in a low, amused voice.
I pull my attention up and slant him a look. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” he responds easily.
Yeah, okay, maybe I am in serious denial. But I have to be. This is a job, and the job comes first. I can’t screw things up because I’m thinking with the wrong head. A lot is on the line, so I need to keep things professional with Miss Hunter “Pyro” McGrath. Even if I am picturing her naked more often than not.
Gritting my teeth, trying to ignore this growing attraction, I tell myself there’s nothing special about Hunter. Maybe I just need to get laid. Sure, I like her feistiness and how strong she is. There’s a fierce intelligence behind her brown eyes that makes me want to learn more about her. And the fact that she doesn’t look at me and giggle and bat her eyelashes is refreshing. I also have a feeling she’d be a wildcat in the sack—all raw and passionate—but only after I’ve earned her trust.
I can tell trust isn’t something she hands over easily, though. Luckily, I enjoy a good challenge, and I think this russet-haired beauty will give me a run for my money.
Maybe once the job is complete I can convince her to accept that dinner.
We stop walking and everyone says goodbye, turning toward their cars. I run a hand through my hair, lost in my thoughts. I still can’t believe she turned me down earlier. A frown screws my face up as I think back, trying to remember the last woman who told me no.
I can’t. Because they all say yes.
Hell, I’m known as The Charmer for a reason. Am I losing my touch?
“Goodnight, Knox.”
My attention shifts back to Hunter, who gives me a small smile, and my stomach does a strange tumble. I’ve never had awoman give me butterflies before. For a long moment, we simply stare at each other. Words stick in my throat. Finally, I force a nod then watch as she heads over to Brighton’s fancy-schmancy black Porsche and slides into the passenger seat. It occurs to me that I’ve never been without words before.
What the fuck is happening to me?
The engine roars to life and, from the corner of my eye, I notice Addie walk up beside me.
“C’mon, loverboy, I’ll give you a ride home.”
Ignoring that comment, I walk over to her black Ford Mustang Shelby GT500, toss my bag in the back and slip into the passenger seat. Lost in my thoughts, I’m trying to come to terms with being shot down.
“Is there something I should know?” Addie asks.