The Fifth Lesson (The Bay Boys #2) (12 page)

“You’re upset and you’re doing a terrible job at hiding it,” he told her, tearing his gaze away from her lips.
 
“Was it something I did?
 
Something I said?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she shifted in her own seat, her bangles jingling, as though preparing for battle.
 
But her words surprised him.
 
“Can we not talk about it now, Adam?
 
We’re going to be late.”

He stared and then frowned.
 
“No.
 
We’ll talk about it now.”

Christie’s gaze flicked to the highway and then back to him.
 
She seemed to realize that they wouldn’t be moving until they hashed out whatever was bothering her because she blew out a resigned breath.
 
Fixing him with a direct stare, she said, “It bothered me when you said ‘it’s not Sunday.’”

“Okay.”

“I get that our situation isn’t normal and that we had an agreement.
 
But when you’re hooking up with someone, you probably shouldn’t say things like that.
 
It made me feel cheap.”

Well, shit.

“Christie…” he trailed off.
 
How to explain this to her?

She sighed, turning to look out the passenger window.
 
Her brow was slightly furrowed, revealing the depth of her irritation.
 
“It’s fine, Adam.
 
We’re not together.
 
We agreed on Sundays.”

Her words felt hollow.
 
He hated hearing her sound so resigned, but Adam couldn’t wrap his head around what she was saying.
 
Hadn’t he overheard her telling Livy and Kate that he wasn’t her type?
 
That he would be boring in bed and was too
wholesome
?
 
Why the change of heart all of a sudden?

In a low tone, he reminded her, “You’re not interested in me like that, Christie.
 
You said so yourself.
 
Maybe you liked what we did on Sunday, but when it comes down to it, you know I’m not your type.”

“Jesus, Adam.
 
You have no clue about women, do you?” she shot back in annoyance.

A slow burn of anger started to build up, but he pushed it back.
 
“What else am I supposed to think?
 
I heard what you said at the barbecue last week to Olivia and Kate.
 
Can you blame me?
 
It was a long shot that you would’ve even agreed to this.
 
And now you’re telling me you’re upset that I’m trying to create boundaries between us?”

“Oh?
 
Is that what you’re trying to do?” she asked, her tone barbed.

“Yes!” he burst out.
 
Calm down
.
 
He took a deep breath through his nostrils to compose himself.
 
The last thing he needed to do was lose his temper.
 
Adam could feel her eyes on him, assessing his reaction.

Finally, she sighed.
 
“I don’t want to fight, Adam.
 
It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” he insisted.
 
“Do you want out of our agreement?
 
You can walk away at any time.
 
You know that.
 
I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with anything we do.”

“No, I don’t want out.
 
I gave you my word and I intend to finish what we started.”

Her answer didn’t satisfy him.
 
Not in the slightest.
 
Instead, her words made him feel like an asshole.
 
And for the first time, he realized how fucked up their situation really was.
 
Christie was his friend, first and foremost.
 
He should’ve never taken advantage of that.

He peered out of his rearview mirror, checking for traffic on both sides of the highway since he fully intended to do a u-turn.

“I’m taking you home,” he informed her, putting on his left blinker and cranking the wheel.
 
His mom would understand.
 
He’d call her after he dropped off Christie.

Adam was just about to shift into drive when Christie reached out to grab the wheel, halting its progress.
 
Her eyes flashed with determination and she growled out, “I said no.
 
I don’t want to go home.”

Adam let out a frustrated huff and attempted to pull her hands away from the wheel as gently as possible.
 
“
It’s not your choice
,” he told her, punctuating every word.
 
“You’re clearly uncomfortable with our agreement.
 
So, I’m letting you off the hook.
 
I should’ve never asked you to do this in the first place.”

“I’m not a child, Adam!” she yelled, battling with his hands.

“Then stop acting like one,” he shot back.

She scowled and pulled at his hands.
 
“I know what I’m doing.”

Exasperation ignited in his chest and he resisted the urge to punch his dashboard.
 
She was the most infuriating and stubborn woman.

But she was also turning him on in the worst way.

Whether it was the sexual tension built up from that heated moment in her apartment, or because she looked irresistible with flushed, angry cheeks, he didn’t know.
 
But he knew it was wrong.
 
He tried to fight it and simultaneously get Christie under control.

He captured both of her hands in his palms and forcefully dragged them away from the wheel.
 
Her eyes flashed with surprise but she fought against him, squirming in her seat.
 
Adam didn’t budge.
 
He would restrain her hands until she calmed down, no matter how long it took.
 
He was stronger than her.
 
She would get tired eventually.

The tension in the small confines of the car changed, becoming more electric.
 
Christie paused, her gaze darting up to Adam’s.
 
They flickered with interest and he felt her hands tremble in his grasp.
 
She resumed her squirming, but Adam got the distinct impression that it was purposeful.
 
Her movements became slower, more sensual.
 
Christie was a woman who knew her body, loved her body.
 
She used it to her advantage.
 
And he was responding, a purely animalistic response.

He was hard in his slacks already.
 
And Christie knew it.
 
Her gaze dropped to his crotch and it felt like she was stroking him with her eyes.
 
He groaned helplessly.

“Let go of my hands,” she ordered quietly, her voice husky.
 
He squeezed them in warning one last time before he did as she asked.

Christie immediately clicked off her seat belt.
 
Adam watched her, wondering what she would do next.
 
He swallowed thickly when he caught a flash of her lace panties as she gracefully swung her legs around the center console and situated herself in his lap.
 
His head tilted back to rest on the headrest, taking her in.
 
He wasn’t even surprised by the change in position, or her boldness.

Christie straddled him, her skirt riding up her thighs.
 
Adam glanced down between their bodies and groaned.
 
The sight of her panties greeted him, the fabric snug against her cleft.

“Shit, Christie,” he murmured lowly, fighting the urge to touch her there.
 
“Don’t.”

“Do you seem like my type now?” she asked, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.
 
Femme fatale
, he thought absently, breathing her in.
 
“Do you think you’re
wholesome
right now, Adam?
 
A good boy?”
 
She chuckled lowly and pressed closer against him.
 
“No, you’re not.”

He grabbed the sides of her face, done with her teasing, angry that she’d provoked him, and dragged her in for a kiss.
 
She gasped against his lips, but her tongue flicked out a moment later, tasting him.
 
His skin tingled as her fingers traced patterns over his chest.

His own hands journeyed to her soft hair, stroking the strands, and Christie arched into him.

But then something changed.

Christie let out a shuddering sigh and relaxed in his arms, melting like butter against him.

She immediately broke away from his lips and tucked her face into the side of his neck.
 
“Yes,” she breathed.
 
“Please touch me, Adam.”

He paused, trying to wrap his head around the sudden change in her.
 
It wasn’t a sexual plea, but one of longing, need, necessity.
 
Christie acted like she was starved for his touch, so he gave it to her gladly.
 
Gently, he cradled her in his arms and stroked her, listening to her soft sighs, feeling her heart thump calmly against his chest.
 
She was docile against him, a kitten who’d just sheathed her sharp claws.

He tried to get his own body under control.
 
But it was damn near impossible with Christie in his lap, her jasmine perfume fogging up his brain.

Adam leaned his head back to stare at the roof of his car, marveling at her.
 
Christie was the most complicated woman he’d ever known.
 
One minute she was seducing him, gazing at him with her ‘fuck me’ eyes, the next minute she was sarcastic and sassy.
 
And now…she was falling asleep in his lap simply because he was stroking her hair.

She didn’t make sense.
 
Although, when had Christie Allaway ever made sense?
 
It’s why he’d been so enamored with her, ever since they first met.

Affection struck him when she made a little sound in the back of her throat, a cross between a sigh and a soft moan.
 
Slowly, she pulled away from his chest to stare at him, her eyelids heavy.
 
But her eyes were bright with contentment.

They simply locked eyes.
 
After a moment, Adam reached out to stroke her forehead, her brows, her cheekbones, her lips.
 
Her skin was so incredibly soft and warm underneath his touch.
 
And touch her he did.
 
His hand traveled down to her collarbone, her shoulders, down her forearms to the sensitive insides of her wrists underneath her bracelets.
 
Her eyes slid shut, her lips parting.
 
Adam watched her reactions closely, filing them away for later.

His fingertips touched her lips again and her eyes opened lazily.
 
Christie looked drugged, dazed.
 
She leaned forward and he met her halfway.
 
Their kiss made his heart pound.
 
It was soft and tender and sensual.
 
And when Christie pulled back, she nuzzled his neck affectionately, running her lips along his throat.

“Christie,” he grated, his voice husky.
 
His mind was spinning.
 
What was happening between them?

“I love being touched,” she confessed softly.
 
She rested her cheek on his shoulder, glancing up at him.
 
“My past boyfriends never touched me, unless it was a prelude to sex.
 
I was disappointed most of the time.
 
I felt used a lot when I was with them.”

He frowned, a strange mix of jealousy and anger making his blood burn.

“That’s why I reacted the way I did,” she continued, her eyes clearing.
 
“I hate feeling used by men.
 
I guess I do it to myself, but when you said ‘it’s not Sunday,’ it made me feel like I was only good enough for you then.
 
I know we have an agreement, but don’t make me feel like that again.”

His palms slid around her waist until he was cradling her back.
 
It made sense now.
 
His words had wounded her.
 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
 
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.
 
It wasn’t my intention.
 
I just…I pushed you away because I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of our situation.
 
You left on Sunday so quickly, so I thought you’d appreciate some boundaries.”

A little red tinged her cheeks.
 
“I know.
 
I’m sorry.
 
I thought boundaries would be good, but then what happened at my apartment…” she trailed off.
 
“I didn’t want them then, now did I?”

“What
do
you want?” he asked, stroking her sides.

She sighed, her head dropping.
 
Her fingers came up to clench the front of his sweater.
 
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
 
“I want you to keep touching me.
 
I know that.”
 
She pulled back and gave him a smile.
 
“And if I want to give you a foot job while you put on my heels, then I’ll damn well give you a foot job while you put on my heels.
 
And I don’t care if it’s a Sunday or not.”

He half-laughed, half-groaned.

“You liked it,” she teased softly, wiggling in his lap.

He grasped her hips to keep her still.
 
He didn’t need a reminder concerning his
current
hard-on.
 
“Was there ever any doubt?”

She smiled, unashamed, not even pretending to think about it.