SWINGER STYLE

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“Do me a favor, okay?” Sabra couldn’t take anything else today.

“Sure.” Holden scrubbed his hand through his hair then over the beard stubble she wanted to rub against like her cat when it smooshed its face against the corner of the couch in a compulsive display of scent-marking.

“Don’t talk to me. I can’t argue right now. Now with you or anyone else. Shut up and drive. Fast.” Sabra knew she was weak where this guy was concerned. His disgust had prompted her to resign. Shameless, she licked her lips as she scanned him from head to toe. Unruly hair, a strong jaw and a mouth that was quick to curve into a crooked smile—complete with dimples—for the right person. Badass prep defined his style. A soft, worn hoodie covered a Henley. A navy and gray wide-striped scarf somehow only made him look sexier instead of dorky. Trim and fit, she bet he had more definition than it appeared beneath his clothes. Jeans tattered by work and genuine wear versus a fashion factory hugged his perfect ass and framed his package just right. If he lingered, she might make another request of him. One she would regret in the morning. Like so many other things that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

“Can do.” He didn’t ask for permission. Instead, he simply plucked her from the ground and swung her into his surprisingly strong arms. Within seconds, he’d used her fob to unlock her car, whisked her toward the vehicle that lit up in response, then deposited her gently on the passenger seat before rounding the hood to join her.

“Lincoln and Town, above the pizza shop,” she instructed as if he were a cabbie instead of a hot-rodder.

Sabra leaned her head on the window and tried not to catch glimpses of his capable handling as he quickly rearranged the mirrors then pulled onto the dark street, heading toward her apartment.
Why the hell did he have to choose now to reappear in her life?

She ignored the stinging in her eyes and the part of her that would love to unload on him. To confess what she’d done. Try to make amends. Or use him to erase the pain ripping her apart. Truth was, she didn’t deserve him after what she’d done. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to cross those lines, tangling pleasure and pain, reminding them both of what had happened. Because of her.

When they pulled into the alley behind her apartment, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or sad at how quickly they’d gotten there. It took her three tries to find her door handle. He appeared outside, opening it for her and hauling her from the vehicle before she had her shit together.

Pathetic. Why couldn’t she do anything right around this man? And why did she want to prove to him that she wasn’t as lame as he assumed she was?

He wrapped an arm around her waist and practically carried her up the stairs. At the top, he used the only other key on her ring to unlock her apartment. When he attempted to usher her inside, she stumbled over the threshold, ending up plastered full-length against him.

Heat flared through her core. Before she could think better of it, she’d coiled her arms around his neck. With that much contact, she had no hope of resisting the magnetism between them. Instead, she fused their mouths. He didn’t shove her away.

Several heartbeats pounded through her as Holden returned the kiss with interest, making her toes curl. If the world hadn’t already been off kilter, he’d have tilted it on its axis. His taste, the suave seduction of his mouth on hers and his palms cupping her ass all combined to fire her up.

He inched forward, then pivoted, trapping her against the door jamb. His hands pinned her wrists over her head, and his body held her still as he plundered her parted lips.

Sabra let him take, allowed him to use her and guide them both through blazing pleasure. Her nipples dug into the firm heat of his chest. His hard cock nudged her belly as they strained toward each other.

She gave herself into his care and he rewarded her trust with rapture.

Until he yanked backward. She nearly fell on her ass without his support.

“Damn you.” He banged his fist on the doorframe above her head, making her jump. “That isn’t what I came here for.”

“S-sorry.” A flush stained her cheeks. How much mortification could one woman withstand in a day?
Quitting before she could get fired for insubordination had sucked. Holden’s rejection was twice as bad. “Really. I screwed up. Everything.”

Before he could reach out for her or bash her again—his disgust wounding her much more than fists ever could—she tucked inside and closed the door, locking him out of her home.

And her life.