Modern Girl's Guide to Friends With Benefits (21 page)

"What do you mean? What happened to your blond friend?" She frowned and held up her hand to stop his reply. "To clarify, since there seem to be so many in your life, your perky, blond neighbor. I thought she was your date tonight. Did she flake out at the last minute?"

"Just the opposite," he said, closing the distance between them. "I'm the one who canceled."

"Why did you cancel?" Megan asked, confused.

Instead of answering, he moved closer. Megan unconsciously stepped back until she ran into the wall. It wasn't that she was afraid of him. She just knew that if he laid a hand on her, all her resolve would be gone.

The whole night was turning out to be one frustration after another. If he'd just said something, she could have avoided dragging Connor into this whole mess. She could have spent the night hanging out with her best friend and maybe going home with him after. She really was tired of this back-and-forth shit. She wanted to make this arrangement work, but she was prepared to walk, no matter how much it would kill her inside.

"Why did you cancel?" Megan asked again. "I knew you were bringing her. And if it wasn't her, it would have been someone else. You always bring a date to these type of events. So why change at the last minute?"

"Did you ever think that I might want to spend the night with you?"

Megan growled with frustration. "If that's what you wanted, why didn't you say anything?"

"Thing have changed between us. I shouldn't have to say that I want to spend New Year's Eve with you."

"But if you'd said something, even if you'd have used that stupid code word, I wouldn't have—"

"Damn it, Meg, I don't want a fucking code word. This plan of yours isn't working for me. I don't want to have to compete for your time." Peter was just inches from her now and he braced both of his arms on the wall beside her face, pinning her. She could feel the heat from his body and she wanted desperately to reach out and touch him. "Can't you see, I want more from you than just pizza," he whispered against her cheek. "So tonight, I'm doing the right thing and leaving. I'm not going to cause problems with your date. But just be ready for tomorrow, because I want it all."

Megan was speechless. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? She tried to come up with a snarky comeback, but all she could manage was a whispered, "All?"

"All," he repeated, before closing the distance between them. His kiss was hard and demanding, and she felt like the world was spinning around her. Megan wrapped her arms around his neck for balance as he deepened the kiss, pressing her against the wall.

Just then the door opened and a waiter almost collided with them. "Dude, this is a staff-only area."

Peter looked down at her and sighed. "I could use a few minutes." He shot the kid a pleading glance. "We'll be fast."

The young kid, who looked half-baked, laughed and backed out of the door. "Dude, I didn't see a thing."

Peter watched the door to make sure there would be no further interruptions. Megan, still trapped against his hard chest and the wall, took those few seconds to calm her racing breath. This wasn't exactly how she expected the night to end. After that last dance with Connor, his date-night duties were officially over. She had planned on watching the ball drop with Benny and some rum.

Was she ready to start a relationship with Peter? Hell, was he ready? It was one thing to be jealous over a potential rival, but dating wasn't really Peter's thing. Then again, she wasn't exactly any woman. If he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, he wouldn't have offered it. At least not to her.

This was too much for her to process, especially with him looming over her. The one thing Megan was sure about was that she wanted to leave, right now, and get all kinds of dirty with Peter. They could figure the rest out in the morning.

"Let's get out of here," she said.

"What about your date?" He almost managed to sound sincere, except for the sneer when he said the word 'date.'

"Don't worry about Connor," she said. "I'm sure he's already enjoying the night with his real date."

Now it was Peter's turn to be confused. He stepped back and looked down at her. "Real date? You mean he didn't come here with you?"

"Sure he did," she said, and paused for dramatic effect. "But I also bought his boyfriend a ticket, too. I'm sure the guys would rather spend the night without me as a third wheel."

"You bought tickets for his… What?" His face scrunched up in confusion, as if he were trying to parse a complicated puzzle. He looked ridiculous and Meg had to bite back a giggle. "Your contractor. Connor and his boyfriend? But he doesn't act—"

"Act like what? A contractor?" she asked, casually.

"It's just… So you're telling me that I never had anything to worry about with Connor?"

"Nothing whatsoever."

Megan pulled him closer and kissed him again. Unfortunately, instead of returning her kiss, Peter pulled back again.

"Why didn't you just say that the other day?"

God, the man was infuriating sometimes. "Because it didn't matter. It doesn't matter. You should have trusted me."

"But Meg, it does matter," he said and pulled her hard against his thick length. "Because I don't like to share."

Her breath caught at his dominant display and she felt weak in the knees, just like one of her romance heroines. Megan tilted her head, letting her eyes flutter shut, expecting him to ravage her lips once again, but nothing happened. She pried open an eye and found him staring at his phone over her shoulder.

Really?
This was supposed to be her big, dramatic love scene. The hero made his grand declaration and now he was supposed to kiss her. But her stupid hero was texting. Megan wrenched out of his arms and punched him hard in the shoulder.

"What was that for?" Peter asked, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

Megan didn't answer. She turned around and started for the door, but Peter caught her arm.

"I thought you wanted to leave?" he asked.

"And I thought you wanted to spend the night with me and not with whoever you're texting."

"Oh, trust me, I'm looking forward to the rest of the night," Peter said, laughing, and pulled her farther down the dingy hall. "I was texting the limo driver to pick us up in the alley. There's a delivery exit this way. We can get out of here without being noticed."

This was really happening. How they reached this point, going from friends to lovers to…what? In a relationship? Something more? Megan wasn't exactly sure what he wanted now. But the farther they got away from the party, the less she cared. Tonight Peter wanted to be with her, and only her. That's all that mattered.

Chapter Thirteen

Modern Girl Tip #8 No Feelings Allowed:
Never, ever, ever enter a friends with benefits relationship with someone you already have feelings for. The ideal candidate should be a friend you like spending time with, but you can't see them as someone you want to seriously date. Having romantic feelings for your FWB is a recipe for heartache. So save your friendship, and your heart, the trouble. Check the romantic feelings at the door.

A blast of cold December air hit him as soon as the door opened. Peter stepped outside, hoping to see the limo waiting, but the only thing he saw in the dim, neon-lit alley was a bedraggled cat stalking his dinner. Meg followed him through the threshold, and the heavy door swung shut behind her with a loud clang, causing the cat to scurry under the dumpster.

"You always take me to the nicest places," she joked, rubbing her bare arms. Once again, he'd dragged her out into the snow, leaving her jacket behind. Gooseflesh covered her arms, despite her constant rubbing. So much for his ingenious plan to avoid the press.

"Let's go back upstairs and get your jacket," Peter said. Not waiting for an answer, he tried to open the door, but it had locked behind her.
Fuck.
He pounded the door with his fist, hoping one of the waiters would hear.

"I'll be fine. The driver will be here soon," she said. But despite her assurances, Meg was visibly shaking.

Peter reached over and hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against his chest. She burrowed into the open sides of his tux jacket, and he could feel her shivering against him. Where the fuck was that limo? It was too cold for her to just stand here and wait.

"We can at least go to the lobby and wait. I can call the driver and find out where the hell he is."

The bright light of the Palmer House's marquee illuminated the mouth of the alley, beckoning them with open arms. It was a short walk, but the alley wasn't exactly heel friendly. The last thing he wanted to do was end the night in the emergency room.

"Are you sure?" Megan asked.

"It's no trouble." Hell, at this point he was willing to carry her there. "Just hold on to my arm and I'll make sure you get there safe and sound."

"That's not what I meant," Megan said. Her arms circled his waist and she looked up, her thick, dark lashes framing the bright amber of her eyes. "Are you sure about us?"

Her pale skin luminesced in the low light, only the dark red lips standing out. She looked ethereal and innocent. He wanted to kiss her, mark her, claim her as his own.

"I'm sure," he said with a certainty he felt down to his bones.

"If we take this to the next level, things are going to get complicated."

"It can't be any more complicated than it is now."

Megan narrowed her eyes and her smile slipped just a fraction. That probably wasn't the answer she'd been looking for.

"If that's your concern, we could just stop. We could just pretend that none of this ever happened."

Like he'd ever be able to forget the sight of her in his bed. He pulled her flush against his body, and whispered in her ear, "I don't care how complicated it gets, as long as you're on board. You and me, we can do anything together."

She pulled on the back of his shirt, her icy hands searching for the warmth. Peter had to fight back a shiver of his own as desire rippled down his spine even with that simple skin-on-skin contact. He couldn't imagine giving her up. Not now. Maybe not ever. Surprisingly, that thought didn't scare the crap out of him.

"And you're willing to risk everything?" she asked. "How can you be so sure this is going to work out?"

"How can you not be?"

Instead of responding, Meg looked away. The hesitation emanated from her like a palpable force. He couldn't really blame her for being reluctant to commit to him. His track record with women spoke for itself. But she wasn't just another woman. He wanted to tell her everything was going to work out. To pull her close, hold her, kiss her until there was no uncertainty anywhere in that pretty head of hers. But this wasn't the time or place for that talk.

When they got back to his apartment, he'd make sure there wasn't a single doubt in her mind about how serious he was. Peter stepped back so he could call the limo driver, but she grabbed onto his waistband and pulled him closer.

"Let's not complicate things," she said, scraping her teeth along his ear.

"Meg—"

"No one knows about us," she said in a husky voice. "We don't have to worry about what everyone else thinks. There aren't any expectations, except what we want from each other. And right now, I want you."

She kissed him before he could protest. Her sweet lips worked their own magic on his body while her hands slid up his sides. Any objections he had flew out the window as her tongue invaded his mouth. She moved his hand to her ass, and somewhere in the back of his monkey brain, Peter knew they couldn't do this, not in some dirty alley. It took all his willpower, but he managed to pull back. Unfortunately, Megan took advantage of the brief break in contact and had his shirt half unbuttoned before he realized what she was doing.

"Meg, we need to stop this," he breathed, in one last desperate attempt to do the right thing.

She slid her hand down to cup the hard bulge in his pants, making his dick jump in a Pavlovian response to her touch. "Why not? We're alone." She glanced down the alley and back up at him. "I think it's more exciting this way. I'm so turned on right now, Peter."