Beguiling (Tempting #2) (5 page)

“So,” I said, lowering my voice and letting the liquor play on my tongue as my hand gripped his forearm. “Do you like a woman who is more direct, then?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t really been around a woman who is like that with me.”

“Okay.” I picked up the shot Joe had garnished with more whipped cream and tossed it back like I meant business.

After licking my lips clear of the whipped cream, I opened my eyes, saw the way he was staring at my mouth, so I squeezed his forearm—nails pressing into skin—and said, “Come home with me.”

S
carlet Jennings
just told me to come home with her. Not like a question; no polite request present in her tone. Probably because her tone was slightly slurred.

“Probably shouldn’t have ordered that last round of shots,” I said under my breath, but she was too busy swaying in her seat to hear me. Then I noticed she wasn’t swaying, not exactly, she was kinda dancing. The music blaring from the speakers over the bar was slower, and she was moving perfectly to the beat of the woman singing.

She’d said I was hot. Sexy. But given that hell was not currently covered in ice, and no pigs had flown out of my ass, she didn’t mean come home
with me
, more like
bring my drunk ass back to my house so I don’t kill us both getting back there
.

“Welllllll?” She waved a hand in front of my face. The floppy movement made me wish I was feeling whatever she was feeling. I smiled a little, and she smiled back, spreading her lips so wide that her flushed cheeks lifted and I could see all of her teeth.

Son of a mother fucking bitch and damn it all to hell. Scarlet Jennings had one of the most perfect, gorgeous smiles I’d ever seen. I cleared my throat and stood, holding out a hand so she could too. Right before she took my hand, she tucked a piece of red hair behind her ear and peered up at me. The slow blink she gave was the only thing that reminded me that she wasn’t sober, because her eyes lasered onto my face.

“Oh, umm yeah, we can go back to your place.”

Scarlet shot off the chair, bypassing my hand. Oh no, instead of grabbing my hand, she flung her arms around my neck and hugged me. And by hug, I mean she practically assaulted me with how tightly she wrapped herself around me. I was giving her back an awkward pat, but the second my palm touched her cool, silky hair, I left it in place.

I thought she was thanking me profusely, but the blood was rushing into my ears so fast and loud that I couldn’t be sure. Call me a typical guy, what the hell ever, but the way her full breasts pressed against my chest almost stopped my heart, and the feel of her hair around my fingers, the way she felt so much smaller than me, made me want to beat my chest and drag her back into my room.

And
that
thought made me pull back really quickly. She’d have me arrested if she knew that. I steadied her when my jerky movement caused her to fall forward, and she was still smiling at me.

“Fuck,” I whispered and turned away, anxious to not see her smile again, because I was likely to do something crazy.

“Okay!” she said cheerfully and marched toward the exit. With a sigh, I grabbed the purse that she’d left hanging over the back of her chair and jogged to catch up with her. With the sound of catcalls from my friends in our wake, I finally reached Scarlet just before she pushed through the door and into the dark parking lot.

We didn’t say anything in the car, especially since she had leaned her head back against the seat with her eyes closed. Just before I turned into our neighborhood, I had to stop at a red light. Looking over at Scarlet, eyes closed and a small smile on her face, I almost didn’t want to disturb her. But, I also didn’t want her puking anywhere near me. The water bottle she took with her every day to class was still in the center console, so I lifted it and set it on her lap. She sat up with a start, then looked down at the metal container.

“Oh.”

“Drink it, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

She did so quietly, taking small sips until I pulled the car into her driveway. The house was completely dark, which didn’t surprise me too much. I figured her parents were the kind of people who marched upstairs to bed at nine every night, clad in flannel pajamas. When I’d pulled the keys from the ignition and stood up out of the car, she didn’t immediately follow me. I braced my hands on the roof of her car, tapping my fingers for a while before I finally ducked my head to look at her, assuming she’d closed her eyes again and gone to sleep. Also known as passing the fuck out.

But she was awake, staring at the handle of the door like she didn’t know how to work it. With a sigh, I walked around the hood of her car, then pulled the door open for her, careful to make sure she didn’t spill out onto the driveway. But instead, she pulled herself up and stood in the opening like a queen or some shit, her red hair spilling over her shoulders and her dark eyes looking almost black given the late hour. And her lips…

Nope.
No
. Not looking at her lips.

Scarlet walked past me, so close that I felt her brush up against my back where I still held the door open like a jackass.

“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked from behind me. I shut the door with a soft click and then turned to face her.

With a nod toward the house, I smirked a little, knowing it would probably piss her off. “Why? Afraid of the dark?”

“No.”

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. She just stood there on the walkway leading to her front door, looking very much like the soberest drunk person I’d ever met. Then she swayed a little in place, so I walked toward her, making sure she wasn’t going to bite it on the pavement. She steadied herself, holding her hands out like there was something she could grab onto. Then she smiled again at me, and something stabbed me in the heart. But like, a little stab. Nothing to freak out about.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.”

“Let’s get
us
inside.”

“Uh-huh, let’s do that,” I said gently, rifling through the set of keys that I still had, trying a couple before finding the one that unlocked the front door. The slight haze of alcohol that lingered in my head from earlier was screaming like a bitch that I probably shouldn’t go in with her. If Pastor Jennings found me bringing his shit-faced daughter inside, he’d probably drown my ass in holy water with a smile on his face.

But the house was silent as a tomb when we walked in, not a single light on as far as I could tell.

“Scarlet,” I whispered to her back as she beelined it to the kitchen and flicked on every light on her way. The hallway light was so damn bright, and so jarring after being in the darkened car and house that I squinted. With a worried glance up the stairs, I followed after her when she started slamming cupboard doors and giggling.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said when I turned into the kitchen. Scarlet was standing,
standing
on the kitchen counter, her tight ass in those dark jeans swaying like she was listening to music. Then she shook out her hair and it messed up her rhythm so she had to brace herself on the upper cabinet doors. “Scarlet, what the hell are you doing? Get down from there.”

She laughed, carefully moving her feet so she could turn and face me. Her facial expression was all unpracticed vixen, the way she was biting her lip and narrowing her eyes was almost enough to make me laugh. But I wanted to get her down before she fell and died or something.

“I’m breaking into the stash,” she said far too loudly to make me comfortable.

I reached my hands up, trying to grab around her hips and pull her down, but she swatted them away.

“Quit hitting my hands. You’ve done that enough today, okay? Let’s just get you down.”

“Nooooooo,” she wailed, pushing out her bottom lip in a ridiculous pout that should not have been cute. “Lemme just get this one bottle in the back. Real quick.”

“Scarlet, lean down and let me help you.”

She propped her hands on her hips. “I want to keep drinking.”

“No problem, but let’s just do this quietly; I don’t want to wake up your parents.”

Then she tipped her head back and laughed, a light tinkling sort of sound. But any fascination I may have had at hearing it was abruptly halted when her laughter made her sway to the side. I clamped my hands on her waist, feeling the press of her hip bones against my palm. I gripped tighter, clamping my teeth at the same time, because this was so fucking inconvenient.

“Quit laughing and let me help you get down.”

“Fine. Party pooper.”

“Well, that’s a first for me. Now come on.”

Her hands slid up my forearms and stopped on my biceps, the action making her lean forward, her hair falling over her shoulders in one long slide. When I swallowed, it was noisy as fuck, but she didn’t seem to notice, her eyes locked on my shoulders and chest. Her breathing picked up when I slid my hands up her side to brace under her arms. The sides of her breasts were hot against my skin. Scarlet bent at the knees and stepped down from the counter, holding me so tightly I knew I’d have marks from her fingernails.

Once her feet finally touched the floor, she looked up at me and grinned. Then grabbed my ass. “Thanks, champ. You’re so handy to have around.” I jumped back from her, looking around like I was waiting for her dad to walk in shooting flaming arrows at me. Holy fire flaming arrows. She pointed up at the top cupboard. “Snap to it. It’s the blue bottle in the back.”

I rubbed a hand on my ass and narrowed my eyes at her. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t think your parents will appreciate us getting smashed in the house while they’re asleep.”

Scarlet kept staring at me, eyes never leaving my face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes just a little bit glassy, but they were so dark and direct that I stood a little bit straighter.

“They’re not here.” When I nodded and opened my mouth to respond, she moved forward and slapped a hand over my lips. “They’re not here for six weeks.”

“Oooomph,” I mumbled from behind her hand, then plucked it away from me. “Ouch. What is it with you? You either slap my hands or cover my mouth. It’s not fucking cool.” Then I narrowed my eyes at her. “Where are they?”

She leaned a hip on the counter behind her and shrugged. “My dad takes a sabbatical every summer to study and pray and plan out sermons. I’ll probably meet up with them the last week so we can vacation together.” She wetted her lips, not in a way that was practiced or even meant to be seductive, but my cock stiffened anyway.

I had two choices: I could leave, make her chug some water, take some Advil and go to bed; or I could open that fucking cupboard, pull down the vodka and get wasted with the preacher’s daughter on a night when she didn’t want to castrate me.

Naturally, I made a sharp pivot and yanked the door open. Lifting my eyebrows briefly at the size of the bottle, because you didn’t buy that shit if you were a casual drinker, I set it down on the counter with a thunk.

“Shot glasses?” I asked, looking at her over my shoulder.

She’d hopped up on the island and crossed her legs. Without speaking, she pointed at the cupboard next to the one that I’d just opened. I pulled down a stack of six, because naturally they had that many. When I pulled two from the top and went to put the rest back up, Scarlet jumped off the counter and stilled my hand. With efficient movements that belied the amount of alcohol coursing through her veins, she lined up all six shot glasses, then leaned past me to grab the vodka. Her hair fell across my arm and I stiffened, fisting my hands.

Completely oblivious of my discomfort, or at least I thought she was, Scarlet straightened and uncapped the bottle, tilting it to the side so she could pour straight across the line of shot glasses. Clear liquid spilled between them, pooling on the dark granite, but she didn’t stop until the last one was filled.

“So,” she said once she was done, pushing three shot glasses toward me. “These are yours.”

“No, no, no.” I grabbed two from her pile and slid them next to the three she’d given me. She pouted again, so I used my finger to tilt her chin up toward me. “You’re already drunk. Don’t you want me to catch up?”

“An excellent point.”

“I make them on occasion.” She rolled her eyes and it made me laugh. Her gaze zeroed in on my mouth, and I had the sudden urge to kiss the absolute shit out of her, which made me slam two shots in quick succession. The vodka was smooth, but it was still vodka. I winced, but Scarlet started coughing once she’d finished hers. I grabbed a lemon from the fruit basket and a knife from the block next to the sink. Slicing off the end, I cut a generous size piece and handed it to her. Her face was still pinched from the shot, so she took it gratefully, sucking it between her lips with a moan.

I turned and started washing the lemon off my hands, partially because … well, I just had to. She was the most unintentionally sexy woman I’d ever met. And somehow that made it even sexier. While I was wiping my hands on the towel, she poured some more vodka in her empty glass.

“No way,” I said, snatching the bottle from her and setting it back up in the cupboard.

“Well then hurry up with your shots, Madsen. I’m sick of being the fun one in this duo.”

I gave her a long look which made her giggle again, and when I took the next two shots, I did it with a smile on my face. When I sucked in a breath, she leaned forward and grabbed one of the extra slices of lemon and held it up to me. We stared at each other for a few pulsing seconds, but instead of taking it from her, I held her eyes and grabbed the last of my shots, taking it in one long swallow. The empty glass hit the counter with a sharp click, and her breathing stuttered, making her chest heave.

I opened my mouth and moved forward, clamping down on the lemon with my teeth, catching the tender skin of her fingertips while I did it. Her mouth dropped open, only a tiny bit, but it was enough to take me to a full, raging erection.

I wanted to fuck that mouth.

But not when I was drunk.
Definitely
not when she was drunk. So I pulled back, sucking the rest of the lemon and then tossing it in the sink. I took a second before facing her again, because my head was spinning from a hell of a lot more than the alcohol. Suddenly this
thing
with Scarlet felt like I could grab it with both hands. Like it would have form and shape and texture—texture that would probably feel like her skin and her hair. And I’d never want to let it go. Not ever.

“I, uhh, I’ll be right back,” I said, giving her a quick glance over my shoulder before fleeing like a fucking coward. But all she did was nod, looking at me like she already knew what I looked like naked, like she already knew the stuff I could do to her. Because, holy hell, could I do some stuff to her. I saw it in that look. It was not because she was drunk.