Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2) (18 page)

His hips lifted, and his still semi-hard cock pushed deeper. She bit her lip.

“If you need to be fucked, I’m the one that’s gonna be fucking you,” he bit out.

This was the other side to Joe, the quick to anger, possessive, take-no-shit Joe. No humor. No joking around. The worst part was he had every right to be pissed. Mixed signals didn’t cover it. One minute, she was all over him, the next, she was pushing him away. Now this…

His dark eyes dropped to her mouth, his thumb sliding over her lower lip, pulling it free from her teeth. “You fuck someone else, I’ll beat the shit out of them. It’s not right. It’s not okay. I’m fully aware of how fucked up that is. I get that. But I want you, Darcey, and I’m not willing to share. You pull shit like that again, putting yourself in danger, trying to make me jealous like you did with Patrick, or you use this thing between us—the way I feel about you—against me like you just did, you
will
lose me. I’ll walk away. It will kill me to do it, but that’s what will happen. I don’t think you want that.” He squeezed her hip. “Fuck, I know you don’t.”

She shoved his hand away, her own anger rising. “Now who’s making threats?”

“It’s not a threat.”

Her heart was thudding behind her ribs. “You’re being an asshole.”

“I’m telling you like it is. I want you, Darcey, but I won’t be manipulated.”

“You’re overreacting.” She tried to shake her head, but his fingers were still deep in her hair. A pleasurable tingle shot down her spine. “I didn’t even mean it. I just wanted…” She slammed her mouth shut before she said more to piss him off.

“Not helping, peaches. And I know you didn’t—that’s my point.”

Fuck, he was right, and that seriously sucked ass. “Look, I’m… sorry, okay?” She slid her hands over his strong shoulders, her eyes focusing on his left ear, because she couldn’t bring herself to meet his stare. “I shouldn’t have said it.” She tried to move, to get off his lap, but his grip tightened.

“What about an apology for making me watch that asshole put his hands all over you? For making me sit there, not able to do a damned thing about it, knowing you’d put yourself in that position for me?
To help me
.”

Oh God. Her heart was going to explode out of her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said again, this time softer.

“Not good enough.” His eyes got darker still. “Kiss me.”

Warmth bloomed in her belly, her resistance dissolving into a puddle at her feet.

She was in so much trouble. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”

“Kiss me, Darcey. Fucking now.”

She was helpless to refuse. She couldn’t do it anymore.

Her mouth came down on his a second later, and she sighed when his opened for her, his tongue sliding against hers. But he only let her control it for a short time before he took over. He kissed her so damn deeply she was hot for him again in no time. He was hard again, and she rolled her hips.

He groaned and pulled back, his big hands in her hair, holding it away from her face. “As much as I’d like to stay here all damn night, buried inside you, I need to drop off this car before someone spots us.”

Shit, because of her, they’d taken a stupid risk. “Of course.” She slid off him, and this time, he let her. She missed his hands on her immediately.

Dragging her underwear back on, she yanked down her dress and turned to him. “Go. I can make my way home from here.”

“Darcey…”

“I’ve got money. I’ll take a cab. You need to get rid of this.”

He dipped his chin. He knew she was right, and he watched her as she climbed out, those dark eyes never leaving her.

Before she could step away, he grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and handed it to her. “It’s cold, wear this.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

“You will.”

She shut the door, and with that threat—or promise—ringing in her ears, he drove away.

Shoving her hands in her hair, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Shit.” What the hell just happened?

You use this thing between us—the way I feel about you—against me like you just did, you
will
lose me.

The way he feels about her?
What did that even mean?

What had she gotten herself into? What did he want from her?

More importantly—how was she going to say no when she finally found out?

It was getting cool, so she pulled on his sweatshirt and headed down the street. Joe’s scent wafted up, and she fisted the thick fabric and pressed it to her nose, drawing it in. Then realized what she was doing and dropped it.
Gah!

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, almost positive it would be Joe. It wasn’t.

Len:
We need to talk. Come by tomorrow. You can visit with Noah.

Darcey:
I’m coming to see Noah, but we have nothing to talk about.

Len:
You wanna see the kid, you’ll meet with me.

She had no desire to pick up where their last conversation left off. But why else would he want to talk to her? She couldn’t think of another reason. What could she do? She had to at least talk to him. If she said no, he’d stop her from seeing her brother. She couldn’t do that to Noah. And God, she missed him so badly it hurt.

She fired back her answer:
What time?

His reply came a second later, then she shoved her phone back into her pocket and headed for home. The situation with Joe was getting out of hand. How could she have let this happen? Especially with Len breathing down her neck—with her brother’s future on the line.

What the hell was she going to do?

Shoving her hands into her pockets, she kept walking. Whatever it was, she needed to act now. The longer she kept screwing around with Joe, the harder it’d be to walk away.

She had to end it for good this time, and sooner, rather than later.

Chapter Thirteen

“I
t’s a woman, right?” Adam sipped his drink. “Hate to agree with your brother, but this”—he motioned in the general area of Joe’s face—“Oscar the Grouch thing you’ve got going on… Is it ending anytime soon?”

Joe took a pull of his beer, ignoring Adam’s question completely, and glanced across the crowded bar then back, not in the mood for this conversation. “You going to stop fucking anything in a skirt and finally face your shit?”

Adam jerked back like he’d punched him, all lightness vanishing from his expression. “Asshole.”

His friend was right, of course. It was a total asshole move, bringing that shit up. It wasn’t his fault Joe was like a bear with a sore head. He was pissed, at himself, and at Darcey. He still couldn’t believe the risk he’d taken the night before, just to get inside her one more time. But when she’d thrown out that bullshit, instead of just telling him she wanted him, his head had goddamn exploded. The woman had some serious issues, and he could see them, clear as day. Instead of making herself vulnerable, telling him what she wanted, she’d threatened to fuck some other guy to get it. Joe didn’t like playing games—definitely not with her—not when he was pretty sure he’d already fallen for her.

Motherfucker.

What he should do is stay the hell away from her. That would be the logical thing to do. Especially with the shit storm circling them both. But he could no more turn his back on her than he could drown a sack full of kittens. He just…couldn’t walk away.

The woman was tough. She’d had no choice, but she was also goddamn fragile underneath it all. He wanted, more than anything, for her to show that to him, let him see whatever the fuck it was that was hurting her. Because he wanted to be the one to fix it.

The one to protect her.

Shit. Rescue her.

As a kid, he’d spent a lot of years feeling helpless, goddamn useless. Not old enough to help out his mom or Hugh. There’d always been so much anger and pain and financial stress in his home. Hugh had been pissed at their old man, their mother, depressed and crying all the time. Joe hadn’t been old enough to help out like he’d wanted, so he’d taken on the role of court jester. One thing he’d always been good at was making people laugh. Seeing his mom and sister smile made him feel good. Being the goof, the idiot, was a hell of a lot easier than acknowledging what he was going though. He kept his own anger and pain on lockdown. It was worth it to hear his baby sister giggle.

He found himself doing it again with Darcey—wanting to make her laugh, to take away the pain in her eyes.

The difference now, though, was he wasn’t locking down shit. No matter how hard he tried. It was impossible. He ran hot, always had. And Darcey hit every one of his buttons. Pissed him the hell off and turned him on like no one else ever had. She made him
feel
. It was scary as hell and the best fucking high he’d ever had. Being with Darcey was like being strapped into an out of control roller coaster. Only he didn’t want to get off. He wanted to go around again…and again…

“You heard from Lucy lately?”

Adam’s question pulled Joe from his thoughts.

He glanced at his friend. “Yeah, she called yesterday. Why’s that?”

Adam shrugged. “No reason. Just wondered how school’s going.”

Joe shrugged. “She won’t talk about it, but I get the feeling something’s going on with her. I don’t know…she seems quieter, almost unhappy.” He ran a hand over his shaved head. “Usually, she talks to me, but she won’t tell me a damned thing.” He was starting to get worried.

Adams fingers flexed around his beer bottle. “Has Hugh tried?”

“Don’t think he’s even noticed. Hugh’s wrapped up with Shay, and he deserves to be. He hasn’t mentioned anything to me, so whatever’s bothering Lucy, she’s hiding it from him, as well.”

“You think it has something to do with that teacher?”

Joe tapped his fingers on the table. “Could be.” Better goddamn not be. His baby sister had almost gotten kicked out of school for sleeping with her psychology professor not so long ago. The women in his life were making him fucking crazy. “You know what she’s like…thinks she can fix everything herself.”

Adam lifted his beer and downed what was left. “I have to go…” he stood suddenly. “I just remembered something I have to do.” He threw a few bills on the table, gave him a chin lift, and stalked out.

Joe grumbled under his breath. Now he’d have to drink on alone, which meant being left to his own thoughts. An image of Darcey in that dress, those shoes, walking toward Mr. Ferrari, slammed into his head and he growled. He’d nearly climbed out of his car when he’d seen that asshole put his hands on her, close to going over there and doing something that could have ended very badly. He hadn’t lied. He would beat the shit out of any man who touched her again. Between Patrick and that slimy, old fuck putting his hand on her ass, he’d reached boiling point.

No shit, asshole.

Yeah, he’d more than proved that when he’d pulled over and fucked her in the guy’s car. He’d been barely holding it together as it was, then she’d thrown out that goddamn threat, and he’d lost it completely.

But when he was with her, he felt like someone else filled his skin. Cops could have been chasing him down, and all he could think about was erasing the image of that motherfucker’s hands on her.

He slumped back in his seat. No. He was lying to himself. When he was with Darcey, he felt more like himself than he had in his life. He didn’t want to have to play the clown for her. He wanted that beautiful smile on him, just
because
. He wanted…

Christ
. He rubbed his hand over his shaved head. He sounded like a ninth grader. The woman had him twisted in knots, barely sleeping. Since that very first night, all those months ago, when she’d led him behind the club, kissed the fuck out of him, then run away, she’d been in his head.

Only she hadn’t stopped running, and not just from him. Whatever Al held over her had to be something big, and he hated that she was dealing with it alone. Whenever they were together, it seemed like they were either fighting or fucking. He needed a chance to show her she could trust him, get her to unburden some of that on him, let him take some of that weight from her.

He finished off his beer and stood.

He’d give her tonight. Tomorrow though, all bets were off.

~ * ~

Joe sat back in his seat, eyes on the door. Abella’s was a family owned restaurant, one of his favorites. They did awesome steak, and the place held a whole heap of good memories.

He spotted Darcey as soon as she walked in, standing at the door, a frown lowering her brows as she took the place in. He hadn’t told her what they were doing, just to meet him, and going by the dark jeans, black Converse, and leather jacket, she’d anticipated a night of boosting cars. He should’ve stood up and waved her over, but instead, he watched her dark eyes scan the room, waiting for them to land on him.

Jesus, why was his pulse racing?

Then her gaze slid to the back of the room and finally he had them. He swallowed, hard, gut tightening, body instantly reacting. Darcey tried to hide it, but he saw the way her lips parted slightly like the air had been forced from her lungs. The way her lashes fluttered then lowered. Her lips quirked up on one side, then she turned away, trying to hide that, as well. But he saw, he saw it all. And fuck, knowing that she was just as affected by him as he was by her? Yeah, he needed that more than he realized. Especially after the last time they were together. The way he’d acted, losing it like he had—he wasn’t sure what to expect.