“You know, the usual. I’d bake cookies for her, get her flowers, acquire a half ounce of pot, arrange for carolers to stop by the house for Christmas.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her mouth hanging open.
“Did you say you got your mom pot?”
I shrugged, trying to keep my laughter contained. “How else was she going to eat the cookies?”
“At fourteen!” Her voice carried over the music. “I don’t even think I’d know where to get pot right now. How’d you pull that off back then?”
“A magician never reveals his tricks.” I waved my hands in front of my face before setting the piece I held down in place.
Her head tilted to the side, and her gaze bored into mine.
“Okay, just this once. There was a guy in my woodshop class who everyone said was a stoner. I figured he’d know where I could get some. He did. I visited his dealer, struck a deal, and got the pot for my mom. She’d sit out on the back porch and smoke wrapped up in blankets, then come inside and we’d eat and laugh like everything was okay.”
“What deal did you strike with the dealer?”
“He had a younger sister who was trying to take an entrance exam to a private school that had generous scholarships. He needed a tutor to help her. I had a friend who wanted some street cred. He got to hang out with the stoner, the dealer gave him some extra on his next couple orders, the sister got a tutor, and I got my mom what she needed.”
The puzzle piece dropped out from between her fingers, and she stared at me with Bambi-wide eyes.
I laughed, unable to contain it this time, and touched her chin. An electric pulse traveled up my arm. With a gentle hold, I closed her mouth, keeping myself from brushing my thumb against her lip.
“And it worked?”
“For as long as it needed to. The sister got into the private school. I think she’s a doctor now, maybe finishing up her residency. The dealer went legit too. He moved out to Colorado to sell legally out there.”
She sat back in her chair. “Wow. I was too scared to steal a sip of booze from my parent’s liquor cabinet, and you were cozying up to drug dealers. And you continued your wheeling-and-dealing lifestyle after?”
I shrugged. “I became known as the guy who could get things. Students, teachers, parents. It wasn’t all nefarious or drug-based, but somehow I figured it out.” All it took was recognizing what someone needed, even if it wasn’t what they thought they needed.
She let out an amused puff. “I’m sure you did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her gaze swung to mine, and a flickering smile tugged at her full lips. “I have no doubt you’re a rock star when it comes to peeling back the layers of people’s brains to get what you want.”
“Why’d that sound like an insult?”
She shrugged, but her eyes were intent on mine like she was trying to peel back some layers of her own.
“What do you want, Sabrina?”
Her lips parted, and her breath hitched in a way that sent a shot of awareness coursing through my veins. The closeness of her pinkie mid–piece-placement to the side of my hand. The way her chest rose and fell, her breasts taunting me. The brush of her foot against mine under the table.
She shot up from her seat. “Another drink. I’ll get you one too.”
It was stupid for me to stay, but damned if I could make myself go.
16
Sabrina
A quiet evening at home with Hunter working on a puzzle wasn’t what I’d thought was in the cards for me, but here we were. The conversation flowed when we weren’t at each other’s throats. He was easy to talk to, which was frustrating on so many levels. Why couldn’t we have had these sorts of interactions from the beginning without him being a territorial asshole?
He got up to refill my glass for a second time.
I leaned over the back of my chair and called out to him in the kitchen. “But how did you get the pro tennis player to do private lessons?”
Metal on glass clinked from the other room. “That was easy. A donation to his charity was all it took. When money’s involved, it makes things a lot easier, but sometimes money can’t buy what you need. That’s where the research and finesse comes in.” He walked out with my drink and a beer for himself.
I took a sip of the blackberry bramble Hunter had mixed up. It was a step up from my normal vodka cranberry and was dangerously delicious. “Wow, you weren’t lying about being a guy who could get anything.”
“Not anything. There are limits.” He grinned looking like a man who could absolutely find a way around every ‘no’.
“I have no doubt if you put your mind to it, you could figure it out.” I spotted another picture match and pumped my arms overhead, simulating a crowd roar.
“Finally found it?”
“The drinks are making this puzzle a lot easier.”
He laughed and pulled out the piece I’d just tried to ram into one spot and flipped it around, smoothing it into place. “It does when you cram the pieces in wherever you want.”
My cheeks heated. “I was close.”
“You were.” He peered over at me, and my stomach did the equivalent of trying to get a queen-size sheet on a California king—so much tension.
For over an hour we’d worked on the puzzle. I’d had two blueberry brambles, and the buzz was strong.
“Where’d you go tonight? Usually you get back later than this.”
“Keeping tabs on me?” He sipped from his beer.
“It’s hard not to know about your comings and goings when your music blasts down the hall like a drum line is using this as a practice space.” I dropped my head to find the straw in my drink and ended up chasing it around the rim of my glass with my mouth. My seduction technique was flawless. I snorted and snagged the straw.
Hunter’s gaze intensified. Reaching out, he steadied my straw, and I wrapped my lips around it, brushing against his fingers.
After another fortifying gulp of my drink, I slipped my tongue out and licked his thumb.
He sucked in a breath but didn’t move.
Maybe it was the booze flowing through my veins. Maybe it was that this was our first civil conversation that had lasted longer than ten minutes. Maybe it was because now I could see why everyone else thought Hunter was such a great guy, but I nudged the straw out of the way and wrapped my lips around his thumb, drawing it into my mouth. It tasted like a hint of barley and hops from his beer.
His eyes widened before his lids lowered and his gaze hooded. The depths of them pooled with desire.
The volleying in my stomach intensified.
His fingers curled around my cheeks and jaw, brushing against the front of my neck.
Goose bumps rose all over my body, and once again the thick fabric of my bra kept my stiff peaks under wraps.
I held onto the back of his hand and let his finger fall free from my lips. “Hunter…” My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say. Here I’d been fellating his thumb. It wasn’t exactly easy to slide back into whoops or sorry about that territory, especially when I still had his hand in mine. A hand he hadn’t tried to pull back.