That's when it dawns on me. “What the hell are you doing here, Jackson?”
He points to the apartment building across the street. “I live there.”
I blow out a puff of air. “So does he.”
“Then you really don't have to worry about him anymore.” He looks down appearing uncomfortable. “Alyssa?”
“Yeah?”
“Your pants. I don't know the proper way to say this, but they're way past where they should be.”
I look down and curse when I notice my jeans around my knees and I realize that I'm standing there wearing nothing but a bright pink thong. “Well, seeing as I'm a little tied up, you think you can help me out with that, chief?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
He bends down and his hands softly brush against my thighs, his touch lighting every nerve ending along the way. He looks up at me from underneath his impossibly long and dark lashes while he gently slides my jeans up past my hips. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding when his fingers graze my lower abdomen before he fastens the button. He swallows hard and my temperature skyrockets when his fingers dip lower and he ever-so-slowly drags my zipper up.
So not the time to be turned on, Alyssa, I remind myself.
He quickly backs away, putting a few feet of distance between us. “I think I have something in my apartment, like a saw or something that should be able to get those off.”
I bite my lip. I really do have a thing about going back to guy's places. But Jackson's two for two now. In a single night, no less. And call me crazy, but there's just something about him that makes me feel like I'd be safe with him.
We begin walking across the street to the apartment complex. “I have a roommate. But he shouldn't be home now.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you expecting something for your services?”
He looks insulted, which of course, makes me feel like shit. “No. God no. Of course, not. I was just saying that in case you were embarrassed. You know, due to your current situation and all.”
No, not embarrassed, but definitely feeling like shit now.
Chapter Four
Jackson
“If you want to go to the police after this, I'll go with you,” I say when I open the door to my apartment building.
Hesitation, discomfort, and finally what looks like resolve flash in her eyes all in the five seconds it takes her to answer. “No.”
I say a silent prayer that Tyrone's not home as we ascend the stairs to my apartment. Lord knows, he'll have a lot of questions about this.
Especially since for the last 3 years he's known me, I've never brought a girl back to our apartment before.
Let alone, one who's already in handcuffs. I'd be lying if I said the vision of her bound and standing there in her hot pink thong didn't make my cock twitch.
Until I reminded myself how she ended up that way.
With a sigh I continue leading her to my front door ...then I hear it.
Fuck me...this is not good.
“Look, I'm sorry. It turns out my roommate’s home after all,” I say while trying not to stare into those piercing hazel eyes of hers.
“How do you know? I mean, we’re not even inside yet.”
“I'm surprised you can't hear it,” I mutter as I pull out my key and open the door.
When we walk in, it's even worse than I imagined it would be. He's parading around the living room, Risky Business style...in nothing but a pair of green Hulk boxers, while Nelly's- Country Grammar blasts from the stereo.
Alyssa's mouth drops open and I can't tell if it's because she's impressed by his dance moves, or him in general.
Truth be told, most women are impressed with him.
It's probably the combination of his Southern accent and the fact that he's built like a brick shit house. That, and Tyrone himself has been known to turn on the charm and be a bit of a player when the time calls for it.
And since I've had the liberty of not only being his roommate, but sharing a locker room with the guy for 3 years...I can, unfortunately, attest to the fact—that yes—it is true what they say about black guys and their equipment.
“From Texas back up to Indiana, Chi-Town, K.C., Motown to Alabamaaaa!” he screams before he spins around and faces us.
Beside me, Alyssa lets out a little giggle.
“Shit, Jackson. I'm sorry. I thought you were still at the club,” he says. He flashes Alyssa a coy smile. “And who is this lovely lady?” Before Alyssa can answer, confusion sweeps across his features. “Wait, you're the ring girl. Aren't you?”
Alyssa nods her head while Tyrone holds out his hand to her. “I'm sorry ma'am, where are my manners? We didn't really have a chance to exchange pleasantries at the club, I'm Tyrone.”
She clearly can't shake his hand, though, seeing as she's still handcuffed and all. She looks down and backs away while uttering a curse. Tyrone immediately and understandably, looks offended, which just makes this whole situation that much worse.
He cocks an eyebrow at me. I know what he's implying and since I'm almost positive that it's not true, I really need to run interference. “She can't shake your hand because she's handcuffed, Tyrone,” I offer.
Alyssa begrudgingly turns around to show him.
“Shiiiit, girl. You on the lamb?” he asks.
“No. There was a misunderstanding and I somehow ended up getting handcuffed while in the backseat of my car. But we can't find the key.” she says.
She shoots me a glance that I can only interpret as 'please, don't say any more about what happened.'
I nod my head, while Tyrone looks at me, grins, and shakes his head while muttering, “Crazy ass, white boy,” under his breath. I take a step behind Alyssa and give him the finger before asking, “Do we have a saw or something around here?”
He rubs his chin and grins. “No Jackson, we're not all freaks like you. But you know who might have one?”
“Fuck,” I mumble.
“What? What's the matter?” Alyssa asks.
Tyrone rubs his hands together. “This is gonna be awesome,” he says before he opens the front door.
Alyssa quickly follows him even though I try stopping her.
I follow them both out into the hallway. Tyrone pounds on his front door. “Yoo-hoo. Ricky Ricardooooo, I know you're in there. Open up,” he says in his mock Spanish accent.
Alyssa nudges me with her elbow. “Ricardo? You mean—”
“My coach,” I finish for her.
The door swiftly opens and out comes a shirtless Ricardo...along with a barely dressed Lou-Lou close behind him. Lou-Lou props a hand on her hip. “Peppa? I thought you got canned?” she sneers.
Tyrone and I exchange a glance, but it's quickly interrupted when Alyssa lunges toward Lou-Lou. “Number one, I have blonde hair, you idiot. Number two- you're a bitch. Thanks a lot for lying to me about our 'job description'. I can't believe I almost slept with him!” she screams.
I don't have time to be offended by her statement because Lou-Lou cackles, which only infuriates Alyssa that much more. “I didn't tell you to do anything you didn't want to do in the first place. I know a slut when I see one. Not my fault you fell for the trap and showed your true colors.” She motions to the handcuffs and her lips turn up in a snarl. “Puttana.”