“We can’t keep this from Justin. I wished the other dude could take the test without us having to bring Justin into it.”
My chest rattled as a sob built inside it. “I wish he could too.”
Storm wrinkled his brow. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
“I can’t go into more right now. Will you talk to Justin?”
“I’m gonna have to. Will you be there too? She’s your friend. You were there twenty-some-odd years ago.”
“If you want me there, I’ll be there.” Boy, I didn’t want to be though. I could already feel the acute pressure bearing down on me to keep my cool with both Mickey and Justin. I didn’t know if I could. I was angry at them, and incredibly sad.
Storm considered me a second. “Jack isn’t bothering you?”
“No.”
“Are you ready to begin dating? I told you, I’ll take it to the council to have you released from the club.”
I shook my head as I stood. “No. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” I went to the door. I needed to get out before I broke down. Too many emotions were spinning inside me. “Let me know when you want to talk to Justin.”
“Will do.”
There weren’t many places for me to go to be alone in the club after I darted out of Storm’s office. I went to the one place where I might have a minute or two: the women’s bathroom. I threw open the door and went to shut it.
A black boot blocked it.
I gasped in surprise. “Art. What are you doing?”
He pushed his way inside and bolted the lock. “I’m fucking tired of you ignoring me.” He stalked toward me.
My back hit the tile wall. I was so stunned, I might have gone into cardiac arrest.
“First, you leave town for two weeks without a single word, then you return and avoid me.”
“Art, please. You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Why the hell not? You won’t talk to me any other way.” He caged me in with his hands on either side of my body.
“This is inappropriate. Someone might come to the bathroom. Someone might see us together. This can’t happen, Art.” Dammit though, I wanted it to happen. I’d wanted him since our first kiss in the kitchen pantry. I should’ve never responded to him. Why hadn’t I slapped his handsome face? Or pushed him away? If I’d thought Jack was relentless, Art was a billion times more.
“I don’t give a shit, Sugar. I’ve told you dozens of times. I. Want. You.” He descended on my lips.
I whimpered like a damn pathetic, desperate woman. Art slipped his tongue into my mouth, stealing the air from my lungs. I couldn’t resist him as he held my body against him.
Jesus, what was I doing? I should put a stop to this, but how? My body betrayed me. It overpowered my sense of right and wrong.
In his arms feltright.
But our age difference made it allwrong.
“Please, we can’t do this,” I muttered into his mouth.
“We’re fucking doing this, Sugar.” His lips moved to my neck, and his hand slipped under the waistband of my leggings. “I’m tired of playing by your rules. Age is just a number, sweetness.” He growled, finding my pussy wet. “Knew you wanted me.”
I did.
I shouldn’t.
I did.