Her lashes fluttered open, and she looked over at him. “You’re goddamned crazy, Deacon West.”

“Crazy for you.” If he didn’t fuck her soon, he’d go insane.

She snorted. “Wow, that was seriously cheesy.”

He sobered and inwardly winced at the way he’d behaved, his loss of control. “I really am sorry.”

She glanced out the window, not meeting his eyes. “Why did you act like that? It’s like you’re…jealous or something?”

He forced a mirthless laugh. He had to be careful how he handled this, couldn’t risk scaring her away. Maybe it was already too late after that fucked-up display, his utter lack of self-control. Deal or no deal, if Alex thought real emotions were involved on his part, she’d run a mile. Though how she could believe otherwise after that was beyond comprehension. But then, Alex didn’t want to see the truth, not of his feelings and especially not her own.

“I told you. I don’t like to share. Not in any aspect of my life. Plus, Jarrod is a business rival.” He forced a careless shrug, trying to dial it back. Did she believe the bullshit coming out of his mouth? He fucking hoped so. If she didn’t, he’d blown it.

Was that hurt in her dark brown eyes?

“That’s fine with me. Glad we’re on the same page. I don’t like sharing, either.” Then she repeated his words back to him, and he hated it. “Not in any aspect of my life.”

They went to Tate’s and grabbed the lunch he’d promised his sisters, then spent an hour he didn’t have catching up with them. He loved every minute. Their enthusiasm over their business, their plans, was infectious. Still, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Alex. She’d eaten a sandwich, then left them in the office and gotten back to work.

Her coveralls were tied around her waist, and the black tank she wore clung to her curves. There was grease smeared on her forearms, and her hair was pulled back, exposing her neck. She’d never looked sexier.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold off taking her, sinking inside her, owning her. But in the end, restraint was all he had, the only weapon in his arsenal. Since he couldn’t say in words how he felt, he was determined to show her. Show her just how important she was to him. That he gave her pleasure because it made him happy to do so, and not because he wanted something from her in return, despite the deal they’d made.

Deep down, she knew what this was, knew he would never hurt his sisters like that. He was sure of it. The only explanation for her going along with his proposition was that she wanted him, too. For now, if she chose to believe it was only lust, he’d take it. She couldn’t fool herself forever, and when she came to the realization of her true feelings for him, he’d be there to hold her down when she tried to run scared. Because she would.

After losing her parents, the only people she’d let herself get truly close to were his sisters. He saw the way Alex checked on them, worried about them. She was terrified she’d lose them one day, terrified she’d end up on her own again.

After kissing his sisters good-bye, he stopped by the car Alex was working on. “Can you come to my place tonight?”

She didn’t look at him. “Are we going out?”

“For drinks, nothing too formal. I’ll have something for you to wear when you get to my place.”

“Right.”

“I want you to stay tonight, Alex. No slinking off when I’m asleep.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She carried on working, and dammit, he wanted to touch her, pull her into his arms and kiss all the stress and worry away.

He leaned in. “I want to bury my tongue inside you again. Feel you come against my mouth. Don’t deny me what I want, Alex. I’ll starve without another taste of you.”

She sucked in a shaky breath, and he gave in to his desire to touch her, running his fingers down her arm. “See you at seven.”

Then he left her, hopefully aching for him as much as he was for her.

Chapter Eight

“So, who are we meeting tonight?” Alex tried her best to sound bored but was nervous as hell. She hated walking into any situation blind, always had. She’d been forced to do that every time she was moved on to another foster home, new people, new everything. Now she actively avoided surprise situations wherever possible. In her experience, surprises sucked ass. Always.

“Some business associates. I would’ve rather given this one a miss, but they’re persistent.” He smirked. “They want money, so prepare yourself. What you’re about to witness may induce nausea.”

“What’s it for?”

“A charity fund-raiser. There’ll be an event as well, one I’ll be required to attend. We go through this every year. They insist I come out for drinks, so they can convince me to part with my money. I, of course, agree.” His fingers flexed around her thigh, which he hadn’t let go of since they got in the car. “Though this is the first time I’ve donated to this particular charity.”

“So who gets this money?”

A shadow moved across his face, and his jaw tightened. “This one’s for heart disease research and ensuring as many health care workers as possible get the specialty training they need. Specifically, emergency care providers.”

He rattled it off like he was reading from a brochure, but she saw the emotion in his face, the change in his posture. Without analyzing her actions, she placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. Nothing she could say would ease the pain of losing his father. Jacob West had died after suffering a massive heart attack, taking him from them suddenly and denying them a chance to say good-bye. “Good cause,” she said into the silence.

“Yeah.”

God, she couldn’t bear to see him suffer this way. She would give anything to go back in time and give him the chance to heal the wounds between him and his old man. “So how many charities do you donate to, hotshot?”

His lips lifted on one side. “A couple.”

She turned to face him. “Huh, so you’re not hard and stingy after all.”

He laughed, dark and low. “Oh, I’m hard…”

She slapped her hand over his mouth and shot a look to the front seat. “I’m sure Martin could go the rest of his life not knowing how hard you are,” she said under her breath.

“I’m hard”—he grabbed her wrist when she tried to cover his mouth again—“on those that deserve it. Otherwise I’m a pushover.” He arched a brow, that grin getting bigger. “You have a dirty mind, Miss Franco.” And before she could pull her hand away, he placed it over the massive bulge straining the front of his very nice, very expensive trousers. “And this is what you do to me.”

Goddamn. Right now he was doing things to her as well. She squeezed the ridged flesh beneath her hand, and he sucked in a breath. “You’re such a perv.”

He barked a laugh. “My condition is completely your fault.” He pulled her hand away and held it tight in his. “Now stop trying to seduce me.”

She snorted. “I’m doing no such thing. You kind of remind me of that creepy kid at high school… What was his name again? Robert? Roger? Roger Edgar. That’s it. He spent all his time darting around corners, hiding the tent pole in his pants. Get some self-control, dude.”

He released her hand. “Creepy? Roger freaking Edgar?”

This was fun. She was actually enjoying herself. She shrugged. “You’re the one sitting there with a boner. You’ll terrify your charity guys, walking in with that thing pointing at them.” The look on his face was priceless, and unable to rein it in, she laughed her ass off. When she finally got herself somewhat together, she glanced over at him, and the remaining chuckles died a sudden death. The heat aimed her way should have turned her to ash.

He slipped his hand around the back of her neck and leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You can deny it all you like, but I know you’re wet right now, and if we were on our own, I’d pull the car over and fuck you with my fingers until I was covered in you. I’d make you scream my name until you were clenching helplessly around me, begging me to slide my cock inside you.”