S.T. L.

’t see them coming,” I say quietly, feeling a twinge of pride. “Because you’re too strong for them.”

He chuckles while turning back around. My breath hitches when he grabs my hips and jerks me against him, standing firmly between my legs as all our best parts line up.

“I like that you think that way,” he says, grinning as he toys with the hem of my shorts.

I run my hands over the muscles in his arms. He flexes on purpose, and I roll my eyes playfully while looking back into his eyes. “You are strong. You’re intimidating. People don’t see you as weak, so they strike when you’re most vulnerable.”

“The guy shooting from the closet was shooting blindly,” he points out.

“So you’re not big and strong?” I ask, then burst out laughing when he lifts me up and starts walking with me.

“Strong enough to handle you,” he quips, then slaps my ass with one hand.

“I bet I could take you,” I say jokingly, but wondering if I really could or not.

“I’ll let you show me your fighting skills later,” he says before kissing me again and moving toward a room.

I decide I don’t want to know if I can take him or not. I just want to pretend like I’m a normal girl with a normal guy in our normal relationship for one normal night.

He hangs up, and his arms come around me in one of those awesome hugs I love so much.

“As soon as I get back, I swear to take you on that damn date I promised so long ago. You’re better than a sex-a-thon with whatever food I burn.”

He totally burns pizza. But it was sweet for him to attempt to cook. It might have gone better if we hadn’t forgotten it was in the oven and ended up in the bedroom.

“I’ll eat burned food every single day that I get to have you to myself. I’d rather not waste time having to go out in public and lose all our privacy.”

Lawrence is predictable.

He’s also a pervert.

A sick feeling and the taste of bile rises in my throat when the predictable happens. A warm hand is suddenly on my ass, and I whip my head around, trying to act surprised.

“You,” he says, grinning. “Thought that was you. No blind date tonight?” He grins like his joke is hilarious.

I bat my lashes at him, and start tugging on his tie, even though my stomach is ready to explode with disgust.

“No date tonight. You trying to pick me up, pretty boy?” I ask with that fake southern drawl I used the last time I was dressed like this.

“I think you must have wanted me to pick you up. New York is too big to run into each other by chance twice,” he says smugly, smirking down at me.

“Maybe it’s just fate.”

His smirk bleeds into a leering grin.

“Your place or mine?”

“Well, that was easy enough.” I arch an eyebrow, leading him by his tie as I start guiding him to a parking garage.

“Where are we going?”

“My car is just around the block,” I say sweetly.

Parked in a parking garage with no cameras. I leave that juicy morsel out of the conversation.

“You’re the kind of girl that makes a guy do something dangerous like get into a car with a stranger,” he says, though there’s a hint of teasing in his tone, as though he finds me too weak to be of any danger to him.

“You can back out,” I say, moving to the right. I release his tie, but he speeds up his steps, still following me into the parking garage.

“I’m not worried. I think I can handle you.”

I hold back the snort of derision.

“Baby, I can promise you that you won’t survive a girl like me.”