“So that- that- guy is your roommate?”
“Yeah.” She put her hands on her hips, back to being sassy, and raised a brow. “Is that not alright, given that I’m a woman? Can I not have a male roommate?”
“No, no, you can have whoever you choose.”
Her frown deepened. “But you obviously thought that he was my boyfriend. Which means that you thought that I’d be capable of screwing you a few weeks ago and not telling him.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you did tell him.”
Bella paused. “You’re a real prick, Rhett. You know that? I can’t believe I thought you were decent.”
“I am decent,” he insisted. “I’m sorry if at the moment I have huge triggers about cheating.”
“Yeah,” Bella ground out as she dropped her hands to her sides. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. The whole two weeks ago you were supposed to be getting married to my sister, who you’d been with for over half a decade, thing. That. That’s what I wanted to discuss. That- uh- I never really expected to see you again. That the whole thing we did together was a mistake that shouldn’t be repeated because it’s incredibly inappropriate and neither of us knows each other and I can give a thousand other reasons why you should have just started to move on and by move on, I don’t mean stalking me and showing up at my work and-”
Damn. Bella was incredible at all times, but she was sexy as hell when she was angry and went off on him. She looked like a damn warrior goddess, eyes blazing fire, frowning, lecturing him.
And damn him, he couldn’t help it. His cock was back to punching through his jeans. Bella was only two feet away and he covered that in a second. Her words trailed off into dead silence as he set his hands at her waist, bent his head, and kissed that angry expression right off her lips.
CHAPTER 9
Bella
I’m going to hell. It’s official now.
Not only had she screwed her sister’s ex on his wedding night, she was now fraternizing with him in a parking lot, letting him kiss her senseless, letting his far too talented tongue swept into her mouth, letting his hands keep her from falling over, letting him press his- uh- quite large- err- member up against her waist because he was taller than she was and it was incredibly hard and he was incredibly close.
She should have told him to get lost the minute he walked into her work. Phoned the cops. Made some shit up. Instead, she’d given him her address like a love-struck moron. Instead of sending John out to tell him she didn’t live there and ask who the hell Bella was, she’d answered the door.
Instead of letting him storm off and think the worst of her, she’d gone after him. Instead of being angry that he assumed the worst, she was standing there playing tonsil hockey where everyone could see.
And god, it felt good. Amazing. Sinful. Delicious. If she had a ticket straight to hell, the ride was so damn worth it.
Bella tore away because in the back of her mind was that nagging feeling that John was watching the whole thing and was going to question her about it later and that the guys at the tattoo shop were probably going to ask her who her friend was and then there was the whole moral dilemma too.
“We shouldn’t go to dinner,” she panted as she stepped back, putting a foot of space between herself and the most incredible kiss she’d ever had. Okay, if she was honest, the sex thing… that had been the best she’d ever had too. Ever. In her life. And not just because she’d been buzzed. Rhett might just have the nicest- shlong- she’d ever encountered too. Her lady bits shivered thinking about it. The rest of her body shivered right along.
“Shouldn’t?” Rhett’s eyes darkened. He gave her one of those dusky, smoldering looks that every female on the planet should have been powerless to resist. How was it not illegal to have eyelashes that long?
“Shouldn’t,” Bella repeated and holy shit, was that really her voice all husky and dusky and sexy sounding?
“So, let me get this straight…” Rhett shook his head and he actually looked confused. “You gave me your address, came home, changed and put your hair up. Didn’t tell your roommate not to run me off, who by the way has legs thicker than damn tree trunks- does he eat whole chickens every single meal- how many chickens have to die every day to feed that guy? And now you’re changing your mind about dinner because we shouldn’t?”
“I can change my mind, can’t I?”
“Sure, you can.” Rhett crossed his arms and his muscles did that same bulgy thing that John’s often did. Did the guy even realize that he might not be as stacked as John, who probably did eat sixteen chickens a day when she wasn’t around to see it but he was even more devastatingly attractive? He leveled a hard gaze at her. “But are you really going to? I’ve already made a reservation at this little diner that I’m told is amazing. Are you really going to stand them up? A little mom and pop shop that probably depends on business from people like you and me to keep from going under? They rely on their customers to stay open so that they can compete with huge soul-crushing box chains that serve shitty microwaved food. That really would be a travesty.”