All Things Pretty (Pretty #3)(32)
Author: M. Leighton

I pause, but only for a second. I’m sure this might have something to do with the woman in the back room. I shrug nonchalantly. “Sure.”

We stand staring at each other for a few seconds before she clears her throat and makes a move to pass me. I let her by, giving her a wide berth. If this is the way she wants to go about it, I’ll give her what she wants. Until she begs me to give her more. And she will. It’s just a matter of time.

Already, I can see her eyes flickering to my mouth. She wants me to kiss her. She’s remembering what it felt like to be in my arms a few minutes ago, my body pressing hers down into the mattress. Her mind is telling her it has to be this way, but every other part of her disagrees. I’ll just have to make sure to play to those parts specifically.

I give her a crooked smile and walk her to the door. “See you in a few.”

I lean against the jamb and watch the way her jeans cup her ass as she walks to the curb. Damn she’s hot. Practically perfect in every way. Except for her ties to criminals. And her penchant for telling fibs. Luckily, she isn’t herself a criminal. That could be a problem. But this I can work with.

Almost hesitantly, like she knows she shouldn’t look back, she glances over her shoulder at me. I hold her eyes and then wink, loving the way she turns hurriedly away. It sucks to try to fight your own body, your own desires. That’s why, whenever possible, I try not to fight it. It’s usually a pointless battle.

“Dress to get dirty,” I call to her just before she ducks into her car. She nods and closes the door.

I wait until she’s pulling away from the curb before going back inside to change my own clothes. I choose an old blue tank top with some shorts and shitty tennis shoes, plopping a hat on my head at the last minute.

Fifteen minutes later when I pull up in Tommi’s driveway, I’m forced to rethink who’s actually going to be torturing whom in this plan. She’s wearing cut-off shorts again, similar to the ones she was wearing that first day, only these are shorter and have a whole at the bottom of her right ass cheek. Holy shit! Covering her upper half is a belly-baring blue and purple button-up shirt with the tails tied above her navel. The thick waves of her hair are in a ponytail that sits high on her head and swings when she walks.

This might be a bad idea, I think for a second, shifting in my seat to let my semi hard dick get some room to breathe. Not good.

I get out and open the door for Tommi, fully enjoying the way the muscles in her legs shift as she climbs into the cab of my truck. I resist the urge to palm her ass and give her a boost.

When she sits down, her lips are twisted in a little smirk. She knows precisely the effect she has on me. And she’s enjoying the shit out of it.

“You’re a damn vixen,” I accuse.

She gives me her most innocent expression. “What? You said to dress to get dirty. Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Depends on what kind of dirty you thought I was talking about.”

“You promised to be good,” she says, wagging a finger at me. “It shouldn’t matter what I wear. Hands off.”

“I didn’t actually promise about that, but I always keep my word, so you’re safe. And for today, it’ll be hard to keep my hands completely off just because of what we’ll be doing. But don’t worry. I won’t put my hands on you in any way that could be misconstrued as sexual. How about that?”

She narrows her eyes on me suspiciously for a few seconds before begrudgingly agreeing. “Okay, but you’d better behave.”

“Oh, I’ll behave. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

I slam the door before she can comment. She’s still wearing an indignant expression when I get in behind the wheel. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You act like it’ll be easy as pie for you to keep your hands off me. I’m thinking it’s gonna be pure hell for both of us. I mean, have you met me? I’m pretty damn irresistible.”

I give her my biggest, cheesiest smile and start the engine, cutting off any reply she might’ve made.

We’re both quiet on the way to get Travis. Just the sound of the radio playing softly between us. Damn, I enjoy the hell out of this woman.

When we arrive at the school, Travis hasn’t appeared yet. I shift into park just as he hits the double doors, head down as always, and starts down the steps. I see his head jerk up and he turns. A guy comes out after him. He’s carrying what looks like Travis’s backpack. He walks to the step above Travis and hands him his bag. He says something to him that looks to be in confidence. His lips barely move and his face is devoid of expression. Travis nods and the guy claps his shoulder congenially a couple of times and then turns back to the school.

“Who’s that?” I ask Tommi, still watching Travis. His posture is stiff. Stiffer than usual. I can’t see his face since his head is down again, hat pulled low, hood up.

“That’s Travis’s special needs teacher, Mr. Chaps. His home room and his last period of the day.”

As Travis approaches the curb, I yell from the window. “Over here, Travis.”

He raises his head only enough to spot me and then drops it again as he makes his way toward us. “Is he always like this?”

“For the most part. Some days are worse than others.”

Tommi gets out and opens the door for Travis. He hops in without a word, throwing his bag onto the seat beside him and slumping down until his chin nearly rests on his chest.

“How was your day?”

“Shitty.”

“Must’ve been. You never forget your backpack. You never let that thing out of your sight.”

Travis grunts. I glance at the backpack in question, noting the blue zippers.

“Is that even yours, Travis? I thought the zippers on your back pack were green.”

“What the hell do you know, joker? It’s mine. Do you think I’m too stupid to recognize my own shit?”

I raise my hands and turn back around. “No offense, man. Just trying to help.”

Travis looks sulkily out the window and I shift into drive as soon as Tommi is buckled in.

After we are away from the school, I try again. “Thought we’d go to a place I found a couple of weeks ago and play a game. You up for it?”

“I just wanna go home.”

“Come on, Travis. It’ll be fun,” Tommi adds enthusiastically.

“I said I just wanna go home. Damn!”