His muscled legs were poised within reach. With the sun behind his head, Huck's face was cast in black oblivion. I felt the softness in his words, the way they rolled over me like velvet. “I'm Eliza's friend. Just her friend.”

Had I been so transparent? “I don't care if you're more than that.”

Lowering himself, Huxton balanced on his haunches, letting me see his face; that too proud grin. “I think you do care.”

My eyes narrowed. I willed my heart to stop trying to climb out of my throat. “Why would I care about that?”

He whispered, “Because you don't want to picture me with her. You want to imagine me with you.” His fingers scalded, resting on my cheek. Even though they never moved, I swear, his touch brushed me deep, cradling my core.

This man was carnal lust made real.

Summoning every bit of strength I had, I looked Huck in the eye. Then, slow and smooth, I rolled my gaze down to the shape of his cock in his swim-shorts. It was easy to see the outline, he had a semi-erection growing.

Focus. Fucking focus.

Lifting the apple, I waited until I was sure I had his attention. One more look at his bulge, and I bit into the fruit so violently, my teeth clipped together. Grinning smugly, I chewed and swallowed. “No, I don't think I want anything from you.”

In front of me, Huck changed. Emerald eyes became stone, his fingers on my face turned to barbed wire. Before I could do anything, he slid his palm down, over my throat. We both felt my jugular pulsing. “Liar,” he growled. Further he went, stroking a finger into the neck of my shirt, tugging.

Under the cloth, my nipples tightened into painful nubs. There was no hiding that, or how I breathed in like Huck was the only source of oxygen.

His teeth reminded me of fangs as he smirked. “Oh yes, you're quite the liar, babe. But that's fine. We all lie a little bit.”

Standing gracefully, he never took his hot stare off of me. Stroking himself once, he turned away and sat in a chair. Using his arm, he covered the sign of his excitement just as Eliza opened the door.

“I hope lemonade is fine,” she said, dancing over, hugging three glasses. “We should go shopping soon, Zoe. We're running low on groceries.”

I tore my attention from Huck, shaking myself, trying to remember what I'd been doing. “Huh?”

“Lemonade. Shopping.” Blinking, she handed me a glass. It was deliciously cold. I was tempted to pour it over myself, or to jump in the pool.

Instead, I looked down at the apple in my other hand. I dared to glance at Huck, not surprised to find him observing me. Tightening my jaw, I threw the core across the yard, letting it skid in the grass.

I wasn't hungry for fruit anymore.

- Chapter Five -

Huxton

Hours. Until the fucking sun rose.

That was how long I'd thought about Zoe.

I had a million questions. I needed to know more. For each minute we spent together, every answer she offered by mouth or action just raised new ones.

Most of all, I wanted to know why she was resisting me.

It was resistance. It'll sound awful, but it was new to me. Women phoned me up to service them. I was entertainment, passion, and release. So why was this girl with her sharp words and juxtaposed moans denying me?

Zoe wanted me, I knew she did. Had I done something to make her not like me? If anything, I'd stepped in and helped her. What offense had I committed?

No. There was more to this story.

After fitful hours of sleep, I took a shower, changed, and texted Eliza. It had been a simple message: I want to talk. Are you free?

Her answer was just as basic. Come on over, let's catch up, stranger.

My plan was a little sneaky. I knew Zoe lived with Eliza. Driving there, I broke the speed limit and risked getting ticketed by the cops. A stupid move, but my urges controlled my fingers on the throttle.

We'd had one hour together before Zoe had interrupted us. During it, Eliza had pursed her lips and rolled her eyes too many times. It was obvious that my probing amused her.

“What are you doing?” she'd asked me, “Trying to investigate the poor girl? This isn't like you.”

No. It fucking wasn't. “How long have you known her?”

Tugging her bikini strap, Eliza shrugged. “A month, give or take. She needed a room, I needed a roommate.” Darting a look at me, she hooded her eyes. “Zoe is a nice girl. Quiet, polite. Watch yourself with her.”

I laughed. “What are you worried about?”

She didn't budge, ever the concerned mother-figure. “Her boyfriend cheated on her. They split up, it was messy.” Turning towards the house, she studied the siding. “I know the kind of guy you are, Huck. I don't mind it. But I don't want to see her hurt, not after everything.”

Ruffling my hair, I followed her eyes. I wished I had X-Ray vision. “If you thought I was such bad news, why call me for the party?”

“I needed a stand-in dancer,” she teased. “I wanted to show Zoe a good time, let her shake loose and go a little wild. She's so buttoned up, like she's wearing this invisible straight-jacket.”

That was where Eliza was wrong. I'd seen it behind those blue eyes; Zoe was holding back, but there was a part of her that ran deep with wickedness. I itched to peel back the covers and see what she kept tucked away.

But this cleared things up. I knew Zoe had an ex—Reese, she'd said his name was. If he'd cheated on her, that had to be what was making her act so weird with me. Being scared of getting hurt or betrayed, that wasn't complicated.

Fixing it was.

Eliza poked me, making me turn back to her. “Don't do anything reckless.”

“Me?” I grinned. “Reckless?”

She jabbed me harder. “You're still escorting, aren't you?” When I nodded, she copied me. “Right. I don't think Zoe would understand that. She's been scorned, messing with a man who fucks for cash would ruin her.”

A razor-wire wrapped around my lungs. “Ouch. That's harsh. You're judging me from a pretty tall ivory tower, does that mean you're really out of the business? This house is pretty nice, you must be doing something right.”

“I'm judging her, not you.” Waving a hand, she tensed up. Paranoia filled her eyes, fingers tugging that long black hair. “Zoe doesn't know that I used to do that. I plan to keep it that way.”

She dodged my question. Fine. Folding my arms, I bobbed my head. “I won't say anything.” An idea hit me. “Do you know what she does, her job?” Did Eliza know about the fighting ring?

A noise came from the house. We both jerked our heads that way. “Zoe is a waitress over at Carl's Roost,” Eliza said. “And speak of the devil, I think she's awake.”

That was when Zoe had appeared, managing to look more tempting in her shorts and shirt and over-sized cardigan than Eliza did in her barely-there bikini.

Seeing her had brought back the feeling of her arms around me. Her breath in my ear, how her face felt in my hands. I'd touched her intimately and innocently, and I ached to do all of that again and more.

I was going to make it happen.

Eliza ended up giving us some privacy when she went to fetch the drinks. I'd used that moment to act on my desires. Crouching at Zoe's side, I cupped her chin and professed my thoughts. You want to imagine me with you.

She'd bitten her apple violently, pantomimed it being my dick... claiming she didn't want me.

I'd called her a liar.

With the way she stammered, chest rising and nipples whispering my name, I knew I was right. She did want me. Pain from a bad break up or not, this girl was furious with lust. Maybe, on some level, she really was scared of me.

I'd crack her code and see what rested behind her parted lips.