Page 19

Rather than walk away and leave me to stare at the bottom of my whiskey glass, he inched closer.

The scent of tobacco mixed with something floral and spicy wrapped around me.

My dick jerked, stiffening with each inhalation of that intoxicating cologne.

When I finally gave in and glanced at him, his dark gaze bore into me like the man could snatch my soul from my body.

In a split second, it was as if no time had passed between us.

I curled my free hand into a fist at my side to keep from touching him.

Because all I wanted in that very second was to touch him.

Rip the shirt from his body and relearn each dip and muscular plane of his chest and stomach.

I wanted to whisper all my dirty secrets to him and know he’d keep them safe.

Worst of all, I wanted to kiss him, again.

I craved those lush full lips pressed against mine, while teasing the piercing at the corner of his mouth.

I yearned to explore his body while we were both naked.

No!

I couldn’t have that with Pope.

He wasn’t mine.

So, I continued to ignore him, turning away as if he’d slapped me. My mind reeled. My body betrayed me. I should have left, but my feet wouldn’t carry me anywhere, especially with Pope standing right on top of me, like he had been.

“You know,” he said, the deep rasp of his voice sent a thrill down my spine as his breath brushed across my cheek. “You’ve been looking at me like you either want to fuck me or hit me and I don’t know which one turns me on the most.”

My stomach knotted. Fear and arousal pooled low in my gut. I placed the glass on the teak surface, knowing for sure if I tried to drink any more of it, I’d end up puking. I also worried if he touched me, I’d confess everything, ruining my life, and his in the process.

“I’ve not done either thing, Pope. You, however, have been watching me,” I said, closing my eyes while concentrating on keeping my voice level. “Did it feel good to kiss me like you did at Flame that afternoon? Work out all your aggression?

“You want me.” A statement not a question. His lips caressed the curve of my ear, and an involuntary shiver chased the arousal pooling in my gut. All I’d ever longed for was the moment when I could lay my soul bare to him and have him reciprocate the sentiment.

“I want a lot of things.” I shrugged, trying to step away from Pope.

He wrapped his arm around my middle. The brush of his groin startled me as his palm spaying across my abs.

A cry of “finally,” died on my tongue because I knew he didn’t want me, he was acting like every other person who found out about me.

A chance to say they scored with Thierry Thomas, just to put my preferences out there on a trashy blog or in a magazine. Or worse, say I abused them like Derrick insinuated while I stayed silent.

“But you really want me,” the octave of his voice dropped, turning me on more. This wasn’t fair. Although, nothing in life would ever be fair for me.

“Pope, I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression of me. I’m here because Wes asked me to be here. Nothing else.”

“Why do you keep lying to me?” He nuzzled my neck, and my breath left me on a shocked shudder. “I know you, Thier. I know when you’re hiding. I know when you’re sad. Fuck,” he groaned. “I can’t stand when you’re upset.”

“And you’re straight,” I said, refusing to fall for his ploy. “Touching me like this. Overwhelming me. Kissing me. What the fuck are you attempting to prove to me, Pope? You left me behind a long time ago.”

“Like you didn’t do the same?” Anger twined with the rumble of his aroused voice.

“Did you think you could walk away and never come back? That you could kiss me and never explain why?” He growled and I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t whimper.

“Doesn’t feel good to be kissed and dumped, huh? ”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I whipped around, giving us space even as I stumbled momentarily.

I took my first full deep breath since he joined me at the bar.

Trembling, I teetered on wanting to beat the shit out of him and kissing the fuck out of him.

Either way, neither of us would be happy with the outcome.

“Look, Pope,” I spat, getting into his face. “Who gives a shit about the kiss? If you want an apology, fine. I’m sorry. It was an accident. I was a pubescent boy who’d gotten way too, into my feelings. I shouldn’t have done it. You have every reason to hate me. Happy?”

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and the glint of silver caught the light of the bar, pinging to life more wicked thoughts about what I wanted him to do with that piercing.

“No, I’m not happy. I’d have never been happy with an explanation like that.

You think that didn’t bother me? Being kissed by my best friend then nothing?

I couldn’t talk to you or my drunk father. You walked away.”

“The hell I did,” I said, pointing a finger at him.

“You walked away the second you got a girlfriend. Then you started fucking pitying me. So, fuck off. Fuck all the mother fucking way off and when you get there, fuck off some more. I don’t need you.

I don’t want you. I never have. You screwed our friendship.

Not me. You ! You selfish, self-centered bastard!

” I didn’t wait for him to respond. I grabbed my drink and stormed off.

God, I fucking hated him for making me want him, again.