Better When He's Bold
Page 3
I was panting and running in stilettos and skinny jeans after a guy with legs twice as long as mine, which was practically impossible to do, but I did it. He didn’t stop until we had rounded the yard on the other side of the house and made our way across the street. Most of the other partygoers had dispersed, and the wail of sirens could already be heard in the distance. I put my hands on his chest and pleaded with him:
“We have to find Adria.”
His eyes were practically black, full of emotions I was scared to name.
“I can’t be here when the cops show up, Brysen. I have to go.”
I gasped at him and balled my hands into fists so I could thump him on the chest—hard.
“Help me find her, Race!”
He just shook that perfect blond head and gazed down at me.
“You’re the only one I was worried about.”
My heart tripped, but the sirens were getting closer and he was moving away from me. I grabbed on to his wrist and realized I was shaking so hard I could barely hold on to him.
“Don’t leave me.” My voice sounded scared and lost. I didn’t know what to do in a situation that involved guns and violence. It unnerved me how nonchalant he was with it all.
The shadows in his eyes moved and his mouth turned down at the corners. Before I could react, his hands slid around the back of my neck, under the edge of my hair, and he yanked me up onto the tips of my toes. I clasped both hands around his wrists, tried not to freak out when my chest flattened against his. I pretty much just dangled there while he proceeded to kiss the shit out of me.
It was dark, people were stumbling about drunk and bewildered, I was worried about my friend, and I was angry at him . . . always angry, but for the first time since I had laid eyes on him, all that want, all that tangling, greedy lust, was let loose, and I kissed him back.
It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t sweet and filled with tangible longing or loving care. It was brutal, violent, hard and hot, and nothing in my entire life had ever felt better. His tongue invaded. His teeth scraped. His hands bruised, and I could feel his erection through the front of his jeans where we were pushed together. I should’ve protested, said something to make him stop, but all I could do was moan and rub against him like some kind of wanton cat in heat.
And just when I was contemplating curling around him, coiling into that big body and making myself at home, he dropped me, stepped back, left me blinking up at him like an idiot, shook that golden head, and disappeared into darkness without another word. I stared at the spot where he had been, wrapped my arms around my chest, and tried to keep from falling apart on the spot.
“Brysen!”
I jerked my head up as Adria came barreling into me. She almost took both of us to the ground.
“Oh my God, I was freaking out! Where did you go?”
I hugged her back, mostly to see if it would stop the shaking. It didn’t.
“Race took me out the back, for some reason.”
Her eyes were huge in her face.
“Why would he do that? No one knew where the gunman was.”
I just shook my head. “I don’t know, I just followed him. He didn’t really give me a choice.”
“Some guy caught his girlfriend with another guy. Can you believe that? All that for something so stupid.”
I didn’t get to ask her how she knew what the ruckus was all about because the police were finally on the scene and they were giving those of us left lingering about the third degree.
The university and the house where the party was at were both located on the Hill. Things like random gunfire, jealous boyfriends, and cheating girlfriends belonged in the Point; at least that’s what most people from the Hill tried to fool themselves into believing. By the time it was all said and done, I was exhausted, and could still taste Race on my lips. My night out in order to forget had turned into one that I would remember forever, even if I knew how bad an idea it was to hold on to any memory of him. Maybe gray wasn’t such a bad shade to be surrounded in after all. It was boring and bland, but it was safe.
I drove Adria back to her apartment, fielding questions about Race the entire way. She was fascinated by him, could feel that magnetic pull he just naturally had. I tried to tell her that he was bad news, that the world he operated in was as far away from her almost M.B.A. as she could imagine, but of course that only added to his mystique and appeal. What nice girl from the Hill didn’t lust after a naughty boy from the Point? It couldn’t have been any more clichéd if it tried. By the time I was headed home, I had a headache and my stomach was in knots.
“We have to find Adria.”
His eyes were practically black, full of emotions I was scared to name.
“I can’t be here when the cops show up, Brysen. I have to go.”
I gasped at him and balled my hands into fists so I could thump him on the chest—hard.
“Help me find her, Race!”
He just shook that perfect blond head and gazed down at me.
“You’re the only one I was worried about.”
My heart tripped, but the sirens were getting closer and he was moving away from me. I grabbed on to his wrist and realized I was shaking so hard I could barely hold on to him.
“Don’t leave me.” My voice sounded scared and lost. I didn’t know what to do in a situation that involved guns and violence. It unnerved me how nonchalant he was with it all.
The shadows in his eyes moved and his mouth turned down at the corners. Before I could react, his hands slid around the back of my neck, under the edge of my hair, and he yanked me up onto the tips of my toes. I clasped both hands around his wrists, tried not to freak out when my chest flattened against his. I pretty much just dangled there while he proceeded to kiss the shit out of me.
It was dark, people were stumbling about drunk and bewildered, I was worried about my friend, and I was angry at him . . . always angry, but for the first time since I had laid eyes on him, all that want, all that tangling, greedy lust, was let loose, and I kissed him back.
It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t sweet and filled with tangible longing or loving care. It was brutal, violent, hard and hot, and nothing in my entire life had ever felt better. His tongue invaded. His teeth scraped. His hands bruised, and I could feel his erection through the front of his jeans where we were pushed together. I should’ve protested, said something to make him stop, but all I could do was moan and rub against him like some kind of wanton cat in heat.
And just when I was contemplating curling around him, coiling into that big body and making myself at home, he dropped me, stepped back, left me blinking up at him like an idiot, shook that golden head, and disappeared into darkness without another word. I stared at the spot where he had been, wrapped my arms around my chest, and tried to keep from falling apart on the spot.
“Brysen!”
I jerked my head up as Adria came barreling into me. She almost took both of us to the ground.
“Oh my God, I was freaking out! Where did you go?”
I hugged her back, mostly to see if it would stop the shaking. It didn’t.
“Race took me out the back, for some reason.”
Her eyes were huge in her face.
“Why would he do that? No one knew where the gunman was.”
I just shook my head. “I don’t know, I just followed him. He didn’t really give me a choice.”
“Some guy caught his girlfriend with another guy. Can you believe that? All that for something so stupid.”
I didn’t get to ask her how she knew what the ruckus was all about because the police were finally on the scene and they were giving those of us left lingering about the third degree.
The university and the house where the party was at were both located on the Hill. Things like random gunfire, jealous boyfriends, and cheating girlfriends belonged in the Point; at least that’s what most people from the Hill tried to fool themselves into believing. By the time it was all said and done, I was exhausted, and could still taste Race on my lips. My night out in order to forget had turned into one that I would remember forever, even if I knew how bad an idea it was to hold on to any memory of him. Maybe gray wasn’t such a bad shade to be surrounded in after all. It was boring and bland, but it was safe.
I drove Adria back to her apartment, fielding questions about Race the entire way. She was fascinated by him, could feel that magnetic pull he just naturally had. I tried to tell her that he was bad news, that the world he operated in was as far away from her almost M.B.A. as she could imagine, but of course that only added to his mystique and appeal. What nice girl from the Hill didn’t lust after a naughty boy from the Point? It couldn’t have been any more clichéd if it tried. By the time I was headed home, I had a headache and my stomach was in knots.
