I’m showered with compliments on my dress, hair, and makeup. If the school-girl popularity contest were my thing, tonight would make up for the debacle that was my prom. Sadly, none of it matters … anymore.
“Hospital called. I have to go, babe.” Steven hands me his empty glass and slips on his black Armani jacket.
“Can you drop me off?” I scoot back in my chair, reaching for my wrap.
“Your place isn’t on the way to the hospital. You know that. Besides, don’t you want to stay?”
I look around, a little nauseous, a lot unimpressed. Dinner was over an hour ago, and my father and Rachel seem to have vanished. Wishful thinking. If only aliens were real. “No. I don’t want to stay. I’ll get a cab.”
“No you won’t.” Steven holds up his finger, walking a few tables over to where his parents are seated. He whispers something in his dad’s ear then smirks coming toward me. “Jack will drive you home.”
“I’m not taking your parents’ car and driver away from them, Steven.”
He helps me with my wrap, pressing his lips to my shoulder. “They’ll be here for several more hours yet. Jack’s just waiting outside anyway.”
I agree with a reluctant lingering of guilt as Steven escorts me out of the hotel.
He bundles me in the back of the town car and kisses me with eagerness. “Did I tell you how sexy you look tonight?” He brushes his lips along my exposed shoulder.
“More than once.”
“Take her back to my place, Jack.” He calls up front. “I’ll hurry. Don’t take off your dress before I get there.”
“Steven, I have to be to work at seven. It’s already eleven.”
“My place,” he growls while sucking my neck like a hormone-crazed teenager.
“You give me a hickey and I’ll cut your dick off.”
He stands, straightening his tie. “No hickeys, then. Steven has something he’d rather you do to his dick later. Bye, babe.” He closes my door and I shiver, but not like goose bumps of anticipation, more like the skin-crawling heebie jeebies begging for a stay of execution from the promise or threat of his words. That annoying third person crap didn’t help, either. Seriously, just massage my scalp!
Both Gemmie and Trick have messed with my head today. Steven’s not an unleashed tiger in the bedroom, but he has adequate skills. Though, he could use more tongue and less fingers. Sometimes I’m not sure if he’s trying to turn me on or prep me for a pap smear. Regardless, since my afternoon tease, I could really use a good release. But now Trick is in my head. I can’t stop wondering where the rest of his tattoos lead and what they all mean. Do they cover something or expose something? He’s gay so none of this should matter, but I just—Can’t. Stop. Thinking. About. Him!
The car begins to shake with the subtleness of a small earth quake as Jack pulls to the far right just before the stop sign. A barely detectable grumble escapes his chest as he gets out and walks around back.
“What’s happening?” I ask, rolling down my window.
“Flat tire, Miss Carmichael. I do apologize for the inconvenience. It shouldn’t take long to fix it.”
“That’s fine. It’s not your fault.” I open my door and step out.
“Miss, please stay in the vehicle. It’s not safe—”
I wave a dismissive hand. “It’s not safe to change a flat tire with a passenger in the vehicle. I’m fine.”
Jack concedes and continues to rummage through the trunk. Rubbing my hands along my arms while hugging myself, I contemplate grabbing my wrap, but instead lose focus as I gather my bearings of where we are. Gemmie’s neon sign is off, but I still recognize a few stores down on the other side of the street. That means … I continue walking until I’m standing in front of Rogue Seduction. I move closer to the window to see inside. The lights are off limiting my visibility to a few shadows from the filtered street light.
“We’re closed.”
I jump, smacking my hand against my chest as I turn. “Oh my God! You scared the shit out of me!”
“Well that sounds messy.” Trick shoves one hand in his pocket while the other twists a toothpick that’s hanging from the corner of his mouth. A mouth that still refuses to relinquish a smile. His hazel eyes look black tonight as he looks me over like I’m asking for his opinion of my dress … but I’m not.
I shiver, despite my heat-flushed skin. “You live here?”
“You stalking me?”
My head jerks back. His comment laced with a hint of narcissism sucker punches me. “What? No. I—my—I mean the car has a flat.” I point down the street. Trick looks and nods just as Jack walks toward us.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Carmichael. There’s not a spare tire. I’ve called for assistance and they should be here soon.”