She opened her eyes to see two blurry images of him staring at her with concern. “Not exactly.”
“Would you like me to take you home?”
“Yes, please. While I can still walk.”
As she rose out of her chair, she swayed a little in her heels. After taking two steps, Aidan’s apologetic face appeared before her. “I’m sorry, Meggie.”
“It’s not your fault. And I’ll be fine.” She wagged a finger at him. “But when I get shit for coming home drunk, I’m so telling Mom it was your fault.”
He smiled. “I’ll gladly take the blame and fear Angie’s wrath.” He leaned in to hug her. “Thanks for today—you know, for being Noah’s godmother.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for me asking you.” She shook her head. “I mean, thanks for asking me.” God, this was bad.
After exchanging hugs with Emma and reassuring her at least twenty times that she would be fine and that she did need to go home, Pesh led Megan out the front door. He slid a strong arm around her waist to steady her as they went down the porch steps.
As she staggered to the car, she moaned. “I can’t go home yet. Not like this.” She stared up into his face. “I can’t let Mason see me like this.”
He pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you to my house then.”
“Just so I can sober up?” she questioned, although she really didn’t mean it. She wanted to go to his house for a lot more, especially after being so close to his fabulously built body.
“Yes, of course. I’ll make you some strong, black coffee.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, trying to still the spinning of her head.
“You’re welcome.” Always the gentleman, Pesh opened the door for her, and she collapsed onto the seat. Once he made sure she was comfortable, he closed the door and went around the front of the car. Megan gazed around at the plush interior of the Jaguar with its leather seats and sleek console.
After Pesh slid into his seat, he put the key in the ignition and cranked up. As they started backing out of the driveway, she glanced over at him. “Do you have to come to the rescue women of drunken.” She shook her head. “I mean, drunken women a lot?” she asked. Wait, was she slurring?
He cut his eyes over at her and smiled. He seemed to be trying really hard not to laugh at her. “Not exactly. But I’m always happy to help a damsel in distress.”
Megan giggled. Oh God, now she was giggling? She never giggled. She eyed Pesh suspiciously. “Got a hero complex, huh? Wanna be every woman’s knight in shining armor?”
“Not every woman’s,” he murmured.
“Mmm, Pesh, you wanna be my knight in shining armor?” As soon as the words left her lips, she fought the urge to slap her hand over her mouth. Alcohol always had this effect on her—it left her completely without a sensor.
Pesh’s jaw clenched, and he didn’t reply. Pitching her upper body over the armrest, she got as close to him as she could. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Taking his eyes momentarily off the road, he pinned her with an intense gaze. “I’d be anything and everything you wanted me to be, if you would give me the chance.”
Momentarily dumbfounded, she could only stare at him. “Oh wow,” she replied, as she collapsed back onto the seat. The motion caused her to feel dizzy. Mumbling almost incoherently, she said, “Mmm, hot as fuck and anything I want. Lucky me.”
“I have a feeling you wouldn’t have asked the original question if you weren’t intoxicated.”
With a snort, she replied, “Drunk or sober that woulda been a helluva line to hear from a man.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
After spending a few moments in tense silence, Megan leaned forward to flick on the radio. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead.”
Humming along with one of the songs, she laid her head back on the seat. “I won’t hurt your ears by singing.”
“Do you not sing?”
“Oh, I sing, but I don’t do it well. Emma’s the one with the voice.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Turning to look at him, Megan asked, “Did she ever sing for you?”
“Sadly, no.”
Megan harrumphed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “She made out with you, but she wouldn’t sing for you? That’s just rude.”
Pesh made a strangled noise. “Emma told you…about us?”
“Mmm, hmm.” She grinned at him. “I hear you’re a great kisser.”
Cutting his eyes over to her, he gave her a pained look. “It really wasn’t like that for us. I mean, we weren’t in love with each other.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. Course, she did admit that you got her all hot and bothered.”
“S-She did?” he stammered, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
“Hey, the ability to get a woman hot is nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, I got turned on when I first saw you today. Like my panties got wet.”
“Megan, don’t,” Pesh warned, gripping the steering wheel to where his knuckles turned white.
Turning in her seat, she eyed him before licking her lips. “You don’t want me to say how you got me hot in a church? How you still get me hot acting all bashful about the sex talk?”
“Please. Just don’t.”
“Fine,” she muttered, before flouncing back in her seat. She didn’t speak to him for a long time. Instead, she closed her eyes and laid back with her head cushioned on the head rest. When the car started to slow, she snapped her eyes open. She didn’t know if she fell asleep or passed out. Sitting up, she peered out the window at the posh houses of the subdivision they were in.
As they pulled into the driveway, Megan couldn’t help staring up at the house. “Holy shit, this place is beautiful.”
Pesh chuckled. “Thank you.”
“I know you think it’s just the alcohol talking, but I’m serious. You have great taste.”
“I hope you’ll like the inside just as much.”
“I’m sure I will.”
After he came around to open the door, she hopped out of the car a little too fast. Her wobbly legs wavered, and she ended up crashing into Pesh’s chest. Staring up at him, she gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. Need some help?”
With the alcohol fueling her libido, she replied, “If it means having your hands on me, then sure.”
Pesh grimaced, but his arm still came around her waist to steady her. She loped along beside him. After he unlocked the door and punched in the alarm code, she followed him inside. Her blurry vision took in the expansive kitchen with his gleaming stainless steel appliances. She followed him as he made his way into the living room.
Motioning toward the couch, he said, “Why don’t you have a seat while I fix you some coffee?”
While it was a nice idea to sober herself up, she didn’t want any coffee. She just wanted Pesh. Grabbing the lapels of his suit coat, she pulled herself flush against him. “When did you put this back on?” she wondered aloud. She felt so tiny against his massive chest. It was a good feeling though—one of safety and protection. It also lit her even more on fire with lust. Cocking her head, she glanced up at him to survey his expression. Even in the semi-darkness, she could see his dark eyes burning with desire. She ran her hands up his chest to his neck. She tugged him down to where his face was inches from hers. Fortified with liquid courage, she brought her lips to his.
She couldn’t help the little moan that came from deep in her throat. Pesh’s mouth was warm, soft, and inviting. The brief connection made her want him all the more—for him to devour her. Tentatively, she slid her tongue across his bottom lip, beckoning him to open for her. Almost instantaneously, the warmth of his tongue met hers. They slid against each other, tasting, searching, and seeking. He gripped her face in his hands, holding her captive as his tongue plunged in and out of her mouth. Emma had been right—the man could kiss like there was no tomorrow. He knew when to be gentle with his mouth and then when to switch to more demanding, almost conquering kisses. If he could practically make her soak her panties with just a kiss, what the hell could he do with his dick?