Page 37 of Dirty Dealer


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Jesus. I’m turning into one of those uptight LA traffic dickwads obsessed with pileups and arrival times. My worst nightmare come true. It doesn’t help I’m still thinking about Al and his discount proposition involving Rachel. I bite back a growl and slam on the brakes at another stop. I need to chill out. I need a few hours out on my skateboard or a quick morning surf tomorrow.

“Everything okay?”

“This is stupid.” I lift my hands and gesture ahead to the endless red lights. “We are both wasting hours of our day stuck in pointless traffic.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to drive me. You’re the one who keeps insisting.” Her eyes flash with anger, and irritation seeps from her scowl.

“You’re missing the point. My condo is like five minutes from Americana.” I glance forward at the traffic, inching a few more car lengths. Shit. I never meant to tell her that. I never wanted her to realize how out of my way I’ve been driving these past few days. Seconds tick by. Painfully. Slowly. I’m not sure of her reaction, but it can’t be good. At the next flash of red brake lights, I gingerly meet her gaze.

Tension stiffens her shoulders, and she stares. Skeptically. Defensive. I hate that she doesn’t trust me. That people have hurt her enough that she is always looking for the angle. She’s right. I do have an angle. But none that I want her to know of. Fuck, I’m screwing this up.

“I have a better idea.” I train my eyes forward but sneak glances sideways to take in her reaction. “You could stay at my place.” Her mouth drops open to argue, but I cut her off. “Just until your car’s fixed.”

“I am not sleeping with you.”

Amusement builds in my chest, escaping in a throaty chuckle. “And I didn’t ask you to.” I want to. God, do I ever. But I’ve known since our first car ride she is not the type of woman easily charmed into bed.

She bites at the inside of her cheek, and I catch a glimpse of an emotion I can’t quite decipher. If we were together I would ask her about it. Hell, if we were together I would kiss it right out of her.

“Look, you’ve been more than generous, but”—she points between us—”you don’t need to give me rides, or offer me your apartment. I’m a big girl. I’ll figure it out.”

“What are you so afraid of? I promise I am offering temporary room and board out of the goodness of my heart.”And the hardness of my cock.Though if she knew that she’d run for the hills. I need to be smart about this. I need to play my cards right. A good dealer knows when to bet and when to call.

She hums, but it’s a sound full of disbelief. Okay, so maybe my game face needs a little work.

“Just spend the night at my place tonight. See how you like it, and we’ll play the rest of the week by ear.” At the next stop in traffic I level her with my most sincere stare. “It’ll be easier.”

“Right. Easier for what? You to get in my pants?”

“Please.” I glance down at her exposed legs and grin. “You hardly ever wear pants.”

“Jude,” she warns.

“Come on, it’s just an apartment, Rachel. Unless you’re worried you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself what with my overwhelming charm and good nature?” I sneak a glance at her and lift my brows in challenge.

She rolls her eyes. “Please. The only hands I am concerned about are your wandering ones.”

“I promise to be a perfect gentleman.” This earns another laugh from her lips, a sound I’m growing ever addicted to. “Look, I can’t stand the thought of you sleeping in the same apartment as those wenches you call roommates. Let me do this for you. I have a really big condo.”

“That’s what all the guys say.”

Did she just crack a sex joke?My lips twist with the hint of a smile. I almost have her consent, so I go in for the kill. “You’d have your own bathroom.”

She crosses her arms and releases a sigh. “Fine.”

“I should have led with the bathroom, then?”

She grins, her eyes rolling again at my teasing. “Does that bruise your ego?”

I make a show of pressing my fist against my sternum. “A little.” I bite back the impulse to ask her for a kiss to make it better. She’s going to make me work for it. My usual arsenal of playful banter and suggestive lines won’t work. It should bother me. Or at least be frustrating, but in fact it does the opposite. It’s been so long since I’ve had to really work for a woman’s affection that I’ve almost forgotten how addictive the thrill of a good chase is. When it comes to Rachel, I’m up for the challenge.

21

Rachel

“I’m coming in with you,” Jude says after snagging an open parking spot.

I’d like to argue, but the thought of Jude, my pseudo hunk of a bodyguard, may be the very thing to keep me from ripping into my corrupt roommates. “In and out.” I eye the door and blow out a breath. “Ten minutes. Tops.”