She got enough of this big-brotherly crap from Theo—she didn’t need it from someone she desired. Spinning on her heel, she started to stalk off—she’d find Theo and Jo and inform Theo yet again of just what she thought of him interfering in her love life before insisting that he drive her home as punishment for his crimes.
Before she could take more than two steps, John grabbed her by the wrist, tugging her back toward him. She bared her teeth, daring him to manhandle her, but he did just that, gathering both of her wrists in his large hands and holding them up in front of her.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching her struggle, but she seethed, spitting fire from her eyes.
“Would you let me finish?” he replied mildly, stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb, distracting her.
How the hell was she supposed to maintain any kind of defense?
“I have nothing against casual encounters, as you so kindly pointed out. To be crude, sometimes just getting off is enough, yes?” He arched an eyebrow but continued before she could reply, “But when I say that you deserve someone who wants to be with you for you, I mean exactly that. It’s like food.”
“I’m not following.” No, she sure wasn’t, but she was suddenly very aware of his mouth, which suddenly seemed very, very close to her own.
“This might make your chef’s self shudder, but we can survive on fast food, right? On food that comes in a box, or a can, that’s quick and easy. It sustains us technically.” He dipped his head, and when his lips brushed the lobe of her ear, Meg felt her knees tremble. Had she thought she was in control here? Stupid, stupid her. She needed to get a grip, though, because he wasn’t trying to turn her on—that was all on her. “But don’t we all deserve a three-course dinner cooked by someone with your skill? Or are you, of all people, going to tell me that those yield the same experience?”
“I like fast food,” she managed, trying not to shudder when his lips moved to the shell of her upper ear. She knew he was only whispering in her ear because it was so loud, but she couldn’t stop the effect it had on her.
He frowned, small lines crinkling around the corners of his eyes. He looked her up and down, gaze lingering on the skin revealed by the low-cut neck of her dress. “I don’t like the idea of you going home with strangers.”
“You do it all the time,” she retorted. He pressed his lips together in a tight line.
“You’re a smart woman. I won’t tell you why that’s different.” He raised a hand as she opened her mouth to yell. “I’m not saying that it’s right, or that it’s just how it is. But you know damn well that there’s a big difference between a man going home with a strange woman for the night, and a woman going home with a man. Bad things shouldn’t happen, but they do, and I don’t want them to happen to you.”
She ground her teeth together in frustration, and a good chunk of the emotion was because he wasn’t wrong.
“Well, what’s a horny single woman to do, then?” She smirked when he choked. “No matter where I meet a man, I can’t be sure that I’m safe until I get to know him. And once I know him, it’s not casual anymore, unless both parties agree.”
“I—” He started to speak, then stopped himself, shaking his head. “Yeah. You know what? That sucks. That really sucks for women.”
Meg gazed at him as he furrowed his brow, clearly working this over, and as she did, an idea formed. It was a bad idea. A very bad one, probably, but after the alcohol she’d consumed and the sensation of his lips on her lobe still making her shiver, it seemed completely logical.
“What’s that look for?” he asked warily. “I know that look. I’ve seen it on Jo. It usually means no good for me.”
“On the contrary, I think this would be very good for you. And for me.” She sank her teeth into her lower lip, and his eyes tracked the movement. Ah. Unless she was very much mistaken, John wasn’t feeling too brotherly at the moment.
“Care to clarify?” When his gaze met hers, she noted that his pupils had swollen, the black edging out the glacial color of his irises until only a thin rim of ice remained.
“You’re a smart man. I bet you can connect the dots.” She sucked in a deep breath—here went nothing. “You like casual sex. I’m looking for casual sex, and I’m not worried that I’m going to get into any kind of trouble with you. Amy would go after you with her tattoo machine, never mind Beth and all those scary-looking tools in her garage.”
“Wait. What?” He gaped at her like something out of a comic book. “What did you just say?”
“I said that Amy would go after you with her tattoo machine.” She knew what he meant, but nerves had flooded her veins, and she needed a moment to recover, to breathe. What had she just suggested? “And Jo... Well, she’d get creative. She’d probably put you in one of her blog posts and claim that you have a small penis.”
“I do not have a small penis,” he informed her. “Also, did you seriously just hit me up for casual sex?”
“What if I did?” Emboldened by the alcohol, though it hadn’t quite drowned out the flutter of nerves in her belly, she inched closer to him. He didn’t pull away. “There was a spark between us that first time we met. If you deny it, you’re lying.”
Testing, she leaned in, just a little. Those pale eyes darkened, the lids lowering to half-mast. Meg felt an answering heaviness in her belly.
“There’s a hole in your theory,” he replied, and she was gratified to hear the slight rasp in his voice. “We know each other. Therefore, it’s not casual.”
“It’s whatever we make it.” Holding her breath, she reached out, laid her palm on his chest. Spread her fingers out slowly, savoring the sensation of the solid muscle beneath her touch. “Weren’t you just saying that we all deserve a gourmet meal once in a while? We know each other. We like each other well enough. Neither of us is looking for anything more than casual. So why should we deny ourselves a gourmet meal?”
A low growl emanated from his throat, and she felt it right between her legs. Her lips parted, and she ran her tongue over them to dampen them as she watched emotions play out over his face.
He liked the idea, that was easy enough to see, but he might still tell her she was crazy and that it wasn’t going to happen. With most men, she could shrug off that kind of rejection—one of the benefits of keeping it casual.
With this man, right here, right now? If he said no, she’d be fine...but she couldn’t deny that it would sting.
“Meg.” Dipping his head, he pressed his forehead to hers. His skin was cool, a sharp contrast to her heat. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
She felt the disappointment as she would a plunge into an icy pool, and she hated that it affected her so much. With a frozen smile, she pulled back, away from his touch, and lifted her chin.
“You’re probably right.” Shit, shit, shit. She was not going to cry. She wasn’t that girl. And why did she even care? “Let’s just pretend I never brought it up, okay?”
Turning, she walked away quickly, heading blindly for... She wasn’t sure. Anywhere that wasn’t here. The bathroom, maybe—she’d get herself composed, then request an Uber.
She made it three feet, and there he was again, stepping into her path.
“Can you please just let me go be embarrassed in peace?” she ground out, trying to step around him. He stepped with her, and she growled with frustration. Then he dipped his head, pressing those full lips of his to her ear again, and she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I