And what if it’s not worth the risk…?
“Thanks for the warning. Really.” Serena wrestled with the contents of her bag again and came up with a pack of tissues. “Here. Take these.”
Piper palmed them, staring down at the package for a moment before staring up at Serena again. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault, and I apologize for dragging you into it.”
With a deep breath, Serena scrounged in her purse again and pulled out her business card. “Maybe what you need is a chance to move on. Give it some thought.”
Piper’s face was blank, but she took the card all the same.
With a nod, Serena turned on her heel and strolled from the room, determined to leave Piper—and all the thoughts that had come along with her—in her dust.
For the rest of the night, she was going to be with Bryan and savor every word, every touch, and forget this little run-in had even happened. Tomorrow, she’d think long and hard about everything, when the emotions weren’t so close to the surface.
Five minutes later, they were back in his truck, charging toward his place like they were escaping the zombie apocalypse.
Still, even with the radio blaring and the promise of the rest of the night in Bryan’s arms ahead of her, the image of Piper crying alone in a bathroom stall clung to the back of her mind. For some reason, every time she thought about it, all she could picture was herself in Piper’s place, tears streaming down her face.
Sitting in a bathroom stall, completely and utterly alone.
It hurt. Ached at her insides until her lungs felt dry and she was sucking in air, trying to remember what it had felt like to breathe normally. This was all going too far. Maybe Piper had been the world’s way of letting her know just that.
She closed her eyes, letting the summer wind whipping in through the open window calm her. A few moments later, Bryan leaned in and turned down the volume on the radio.
“I’ve never seen my sister like that before,” he admitted with a grin.
“What do you mean?”
“She just gravitated to you. But I can’t say I don’t understand.” He rested his palm on her thigh. “You have a sort of superpower that way.”
He shot her a look that was just as affecting as the ones he’d been giving her on the dance floor, but in a whole different way. It was warm. And sweet. And so wholly disarming, it made her throat clench. She almost said something. Almost told him to pull over so she could walk home. That if she spent another moment alone with him she’d be totally lost.
Almost.
One more night, her heart whispered as she looked into his smiling eyes.
Just one more night, for real this time, and she’d let him go…
…
“Did you want a glass of wine?” Serena asked.
She had been quiet on the ride home. Contemplative. As he looked at her even now, she seemed tentative. The quick smile and air of confidence that usually radiated from her were nowhere to be found.
She’d changed her skirt and top and had donned a pair of boxer shorts and a camisole. Her face was pink and shining, having been scrubbed free of makeup, and her long blond hair hung free down her back. She was just as beautiful as she’d been all fussed up, maybe more so. But there was an unsettling vulnerability about her that he’d never seen before.
“No thanks, I’m good.” He closed the gap between them and touched her cheek. “You okay? You look…sad.”
She held his gaze for a second before shaking her head, and then the smile was back, albeit at half the normal wattage. “I’m good. Long night. Long week, really. Lots going on at work.”
He wasn’t convinced but nodded anyway. “Do you want me to go?” It took some doing to force the words out, and his gut tightened as he waited for an answer. Whatever was going on with her, she clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but the thought of leaving her like this when she was obviously down didn’t sit right with him.
And hell, who was he kidding? Going back to Q’s and climbing into his lonely bed had no appeal anyway. He wanted Serena in his arms again.
“Stay,” she murmured, rolling to her tiptoes to press her lips to his jaw. “Please stay.”
He leaned in and took her mouth gently, his blood warming as her tongue slid over his bottom lip. She nipped him and then pulled back to lead him toward the couch with a siren’s smile. He tugged her to a stop.
“What say we try a bed for once?”
It was purely selfish, the desire to see her hair spread out on a pillow or maybe watch her walk to the bathroom dressed only in a sheet. She pursed her lips but then nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
They walked side by side toward the marble staircase in silence, and it weighed on him. He wanted to make her laugh or gasp or something…anything to make her feel better. On a whim, he ducked toward her and scooped her up in his arms.
“Jesus!” she squealed, clutching his shirt in one hand and looping her arm around his neck. “Don’t drop me.”
She was chuckling now, and the tension between them faded as he carried her up the stairs.
“I’m pretty impressed, Doc,” she purred, squeezing his biceps and wiggling her eyebrows. “You sure are fit.”
He leveled a wink at her. “Welcome to the gun show.”
She threw her head back and groaned. “Ugh, please tell me you don’t use that line. Wait.” She gaped at him in mock horror. “Is that the move?”
He played along. “It’s part one, yeah. You like?”
She ducked her head low and gave his arm a sharp nip. “Actually, I kinda do.”
As he reached the top of the stairs, she pointed him right before turning her attention to his ear, closing her teeth over the soft flesh there.
“My room’s the second on the left,” she whispered, the warm puff of breath sending a hot rush of blood to his cock.
He made it down the hall in record time and pushed the door open with his foot.
“Damn.”
The room wasn’t just big. It was cavernous. The king-size bed was almost dwarfed in the space, and the vaulted ceilings made it seem even larger.
“Too much?” she asked, laughter still coloring her voice.
“It’s…a lot, yeah. But I like it. Especially the cheetah-print bedding.”
“Well, let’s go test it out, then.” She wriggled in his arms until he set her down. The second her feet touched the ground and she met his gaze, though, his brain went dead. He had nothing. No banter, no moves to bust out, no lines to spit. She took his breath away.
“Serena…”
He didn’t know what he was going to say, but whatever it was died on his lips as she yanked her camisole over her head and tossed it aside, baring her breasts to him. His pulse pounded in his ears, but before he could touch her, she bent low and shimmied out of her boxers.
There was just so much to see. His focus ping-ponged between her pouty mouth and the narrow blond strip between her thighs. The need that had quieted to summer rain ramped up to a tsunami again, and he couldn’t wait to feel every inch of those long, lean legs wrapped around him while she screamed his name.
The need to touch her warred with the need to look at her, and he stepped closer. He closed his hand over the soft swell of her hip and tugged her against him. She gasped, tipping her pelvis against him, grinding her soft parts against his hard ones. He swooped down, taking her mouth, sliding his tongue between her lips and mimicking what he wanted to do with the rest of his body. As her tongue swept out to meet his, the electricity between them snapped out of control. It filled his every muscle, every cell, and what had begun as a simple kiss became infinitely more desperate on a dime.
She looped her arms around his neck and responded to him, giving as good as she was getting. His cock pulsed, and he mentally cursed himself for not taking off his shirt before he kissed her so he could feel those perfect, naked breasts pressed against his chest without anything between them.