“Tank, please.” It should embarrass me that I’m essentially begging. But I’ve never felt this before, this all-consuming heat. This blinding desire to have him inside me. I’ve wanted men before but I’ve never felt this out of control. This needy.
“So sweet,” he mutters. “So damn sweet.”
He rolls to the side and pushes his face into the pillow next to me. I can hear his gasping breaths and I can definitely feel the iron-hard rod pressing against my thigh. What I don’t understand is why he’s stopped? Then as my heart rate slows down some, my reason returns. I put a hand over my mouth.
I just dry humped him like I was in heat.
“I’ll get out of here so you can get ready.” He pulls back and rolls over, presenting me with his back. I watch as he stands and then pulls on his jeans. Then he’s gone.
This is the most awkward thing I’ve ever experienced. How do you handle a morning after that isn’t really a morning after? Tank has now seen me with mascara trailing down my cheeks and hair that’s snarled into a bird’s nest of knots and we haven’t even gone on a date.
After texting Ivy, I grab the towel and washcloth that Tank gave me last night and barricade myself in the bathroom. My hair is a wild tangle and I have little smudges of mascara beneath my eyes. I’m suddenly really grateful to Sasha for offering me her makeup remover last night. Clearly I didn’t get it all but I hate to think of how bad I’d look this morning if I had gone to sleep in full war paint. I splash my face with water and then run my damp hands through my hair, trying to finger comb the tangles.
I don’t have time for a long shower so I jump in and scrub at lightning speed. Then I dry off and towel dry my hair. There’s a new toothbrush below the sink which I make use of and then do my best to slap some color into my cheeks. The makeup I wore yesterday was a lot heavier than the kind I have in my purse so I’ll have to make do.
There’s a soft knock at the door. “Emma? Let me know when you want me to take you home.”
“Uh, just a second.” God, this is embarrassing. I don’t regret what happened this morning but it’s definitely awkward since we’re not dating. Or even friends. Now I’m supposed to talk to him like nothing happened?
After one last glance in the mirror, I open the door. Tank has dressed in jeans and a long sleeved black shirt. He looks edible. And so does the bagel he’s holding out to me. I snatch it and take a huge bite. He chuckles.
“Yeah, I thought you might be hungry.”
I’m slightly appalled at the way I attacked him for his food but I’m too hungry to care. “Starving. I didn’t eat breakfast yesterday and my lunch was just a salad.”
“What happened to dinner? This is why you need to go out with me. Clearly you don’t understand the importance of the last meal.”
I can’t help but laugh. His determination is impressive. Plus, he has a point. But I can’t think about that now.
“Anyway, I don’t need a ride. My sister is coming to pick me up.”
He’s watching me carefully and it’s obvious this is just as awkward for him as it is for me. It’s strangely comforting that he doesn’t know what to say. It would be worse if he was completely blasé about waking up with a random chick in his bed.
My phone beeps. “That’s probably her now.” I check my message and see that Ivy is waiting in front of the building. Part of me rails that the first time Ivy is on time for something is the one time I wish she was at least a little late.
“I’ve got to go. My sister is out front.” I gather the few things from his room, my clothes from yesterday and fold them into my messenger bag.
Tank grabs his keys off the table near the front door. We ride down the elevator together in silence. Ivy is parked right in front of the building, illegally blocking in several cars. When she sees Tank, she rolls down the window and stares at him shamelessly. Her eyes widen when she gets a good look at him. The broad shoulders, the muscles. The sexily rumpled hair.
Crap. I need to get out of here before she says something inappropriate.
“If you ever need another rescue, or anything, let me know, okay?” Tank says, his dark eyes fixed on my face as he speaks.
I nod. Not sure what to really say to that. We aren’t dating and we’re not friends. Why would I call him? It was pure luck that he happened to be there last night and that was more for Sasha’s benefit than mine.
“Thanks again, Tank. For everything.” I give a little awkward wave and then hitch my messenger bag over my shoulder.
Ivy leans across the seat and pushes the passenger side door open. She opens her mouth to speak but Tank has already gone back into the building.
“What the hell, Emma? I heard you come in last night but then when I woke up this morning, you were gone.”
“Sorry, yesterday was crazy. A fight broke out at the club and Lattimer has been out of control lately so Sasha has a friend who intervened. Unfortunately, we still got fired.”
“I warned you that Paul was bad news. What did you expect working at that trashy club?”
“Great. Thanks Ivy. Way to blame the victim.”
“I’m sorry, Em. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course it’s not your fault.”
I let out a sigh. Ivy doesn’t understand anything I do but I don’t understand her choices any better. She seems to think dating a rich man solves all problems.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you, Jon has a friend that I think would be perfect for you. He’s cute, too. You should let me fix you up.”