Branded: You Own Me & The Virgin's Night Out by Shiloh Walker Page B

thought. One more, before she told him…and probably lost even him.
    “Deck…?”
    She opened her eyes and sat up.
    She was alone in bed.
    It didn’t take long to find out that she was alone in her little house, too.
    He wasn’t there.
    • • •
     
    Twenty minutes later, she sat alone on her front porch. Oleander and magnolia shaded the area in the sunlight, but just then, it was dark. She sipped at her coffee and brooded.
    He hadn’t come back.
    She’d hoped he’d just gone out for a run, but he hadn’t left a note.
    Hadn’t texted.
    Hadn’t done anything.
    She had to be at work in two hours.
    But she wasn’t going to wait around here.
    Tonight she had a date, one she was tempted to cancel.
    She’d debate on that later.
    For now, though, she had to get out of here, because even being in the house…hell, the porch reminded her of Decker. He’d helped her re-stain the floorboards.
    He’d planted a new oleander for her after a storm had destroyed the one she’d planted a few years before. He’d shaken his head at her when she told him she wanted a new one. Aren’t these dangerous ? he’d asked. She’d just laughed. Dangerous things don’t bother me…not all the time anyway. Then she’d pulled his hair.
    He’d just rolled his eyes at her.
    The entire time, one of her neighbors had watched them from behind her curtains.
    Oleander…
    She groaned.
    That damned date.
    How could she go out on a date with anybody when she was so twisted up over everything that had played out with Decker? Over everything she’d refused to let herself feel…everything he’d made her feel.
    He wanted her.
    She loved him.
    “This is impossible,” she muttered.
    But one thing was clear.
    She needed to cancel the date.
    Cancel the date, remove her profile from Wanna Play , because she wasn’t in the right place to be dating—or playing—right now. She’d just dumped, or had been dumped, by her boyfriend. Then she’d slept with her best friend…yeah.
    Talk about a complicated mess.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    “Lizzie…”
    She wouldn’t open the door.
    That didn’t matter.
    He knew how to get inside whether she opened the door or not. And she’d showed him the way, after her father had made it more than clear he didn’t want Decker around.
    Now, leaning against the door that opened onto the little balcony outside her room, he closed his eyes.
    Why had she been at his house?
    Why had he let Jeanette inside?
    He knew the answer to one of those and that answer was simple—he’d been living in a state of terminal horniness for the past two years, ever since he’d met, and befriended, one of the sweetest, smartest girls at school.
    But Lizzie wasn’t for the likes of him. He knew that.
    So he handled it in any other way possible.
    Still…he’d seen a look in her eyes.
    He’d almost thought it was hurt.
    He had to know.
    But she wouldn’t open the door.
    He knocked again.
    “Lizzie, c’mon…let me in.”
    He braced a hand on the wooden frame of the door, leaning forward. Maybe if he begged…
    Abruptly the door swung open and he almost ended up flat on his face.
    Then he was almost on his knees anyway as he caught sight of her. White sundress, skinny straps that went up over sunkissed shoulders. Her tits…his mouth watered every time he even thought about those tits and now he saw more of them than she ever let show.
    The dress flowed down over round hips and he wanted to pull her up against him and take big, greedy bites out of her.
    “What?” she asked, her voice snappish and cold.
    “Lizzie…” He blinked. “Wow. You look…” Beautiful. Sexy. Gorgeous.
    “Nice. Are you…”
    “I’ve got a date. Did you need something?”
    A date? He almost asked who with but yanked it back in time. Maybe he’d imagined what he thought he saw. Yeah. He had. But even as he went to make up a lie, her lower lip trembled.
    Fuck it. He was going to try.
    Reaching up, he cupped her cheek. “Why are you mad at