Pressing Adalyn Read online

  It took every ounce of self-restraint I had, but I managed to pull the covers over her and retreat from my bedroom with one last glance. I may have been trying to prove how much of a gentleman I could be, but I was still a man and leaving her in there after hearing the sounds I’d just heard was extremely difficult, to say the least.

  Pulling a couple of blankets and a pillow from the linen closet, I started to make my bed on the couch. Sure, I could have used one of the guest rooms, but Adalyn had demanded I sleep on the couch and I didn’t want her to wake and not know where I was. I knew she would feel better knowing where to find me and knowing I had listened and obeyed her demands.

  I had no idea what would happen in the morning. Multiple scenarios ran through my head as I lay there, staring at the ceiling. She could wake up embarrassed by the events that happened tonight, though I doubt that would happen. Even if she was embarrassed she wouldn’t let me know it. She was hands down the most stubborn woman I had ever met.

  She could wake up with no memory what-so-ever, but I didn’t think she was drunk enough to completely black out everything. No, my bet was on her waking up angry. Chances were, as soon as she woke up and realized she was in my bed and started to remember everything, she would come storming out there demanding I take her home. Or maybe she would just storm out without a word.

  I’d never met someone so unpredictable. Under any other circumstances, being subjected to these types of unforeseen mood swings would test my patience to no end. But Adalyn wasn’t like any other woman I’d ever met. As I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face, anxious to see what tomorrow would bring, I couldn’t help but think that it had only taken this girl less than twelve hours to flip my life completely upside down.

  Chapter 10

  Adalyn

  Shit.

  Dammit.

  I was such an idiot.

  I sat in Ian’s bed for well over a half an hour, internally cursing at myself for drinking the night before. I remembered most of it, but there were enough fuzzy parts for me to know that I could have been missing vital pieces of information. I went back and forth over whether or not I even wanted to fill in the gaps.

  After internally berating myself, I turned my thoughts to Ian. He really was remarkable last night. No matter how many times I tried to keep reminding myself that he was no different than all the other assholes I’d met, he kept finding ways to prove me wrong. Fighting the urge to open up to this man was becoming a constant battle of wills. I’d known him less than 24 hours, and in that little amount of time I had managed to be the biggest bitch to him. Even bitchier than I even thought I was capable of. With anyone else, I would actually be proud of myself for that, but after last night all I felt was guilt.

  The guilt didn’t last long though, quickly being replaced with confusion. Why was he doing this? Why weren’t my normal tactics pushing him away? He was dangerously perceptive and was figuring me out much more quickly than I was comfortable with. I wanted to choose when people got to know me, I didn’t want to be tricked or manipulated into a relationship. Not that he would want any kind of relationship with me. But if he wasn’t interested in me, why would he keep pushing me?

  Games. It’s always a game.

  Either way, he was a close friend of Stacy’s and whether or not his motives were genuine, he still took care of me last night and like it or not, I owed him for that. Hopefully he didn’t expect more than a simple ‘thank you’ as a means of showing my gratitude, otherwise he would be in for a huge let down.

  Deciding it was time to face the music, I got up to find Ian. And hopefully some aspirin and a gallon of water. First things first, though. Bathroom. After relieving myself I chanced a look in the mirror and almost screamed in horror. I didn’t just have panda eyes, I had black makeup running literally all down my face. My hair looked like the only thing that could salvage it was a weed whacker. I wasn’t super self conscious about my appearance, but this was just unacceptable.

  Considering that Ian had been trying to force me to be ‘comfortable’ around him, I decided to do just that. Get comfortable. I helped myself to a shower, used his toothbrush and hairbrush and stole some clothes. I even used his deodorant. I smelled exactly like him. Between the shampoo, deodorant and his clothes, I was literally engulfed with Ian’s scent.

  Yep. I was just going to ignore those butterflies that I got from that thought.

  After taking my time getting cleaned up I finally navigated my way to living room, but I immediately stopped, frozen in place. I couldn’t believe what was in front of my eyes. Was I in Ian’s apartment? I mean, I remembered him saying that’s where he was taking me, and I could see him laying on the couch, but this surely couldn’t be where he lived. I saw his office, and this had to be the exact opposite.

  It was a large, open room with high ceilings, and I could see the kitchen and dining area off to the left. The massive size was not what shocked me though, it’s what was all over the walls and filling the room that caused my jaw to drop. Every wall was covered in a bright paint, none of them matching the other. The largest wall in the living room had a mural covering it in what looked to be street art. Photographs, framed posters and canvases covered large portions of the other walls. It was a hodge podge of art to the extreme, nothing matching anything else in the room.

  Then spread out sporadically throughout the space were vintage video games. The ones you find in arcades, but they were all the classics. The dining room table was clearly not being used for entertainment, at least not the traditional kind. It was covered in Legos. LEGOS! To the right of it was the biggest television I had ever seen, underneath of which appeared to be some sort of shrine to video games.

  It was by far the most bizarre bachelor pad I’d ever seen. I knew “boys and their toys” was a thing but this was to the extreme. Did I just step into a scene from the movie ‘Big’? If I found a giant floor piano and a trampoline in this place, then I would be convinced I’d died and was spending the rest of eternity with Tom Hanks reliving a childhood fantasy.

  Then it hit me. Did he have a kid? That would complicate things exponentially. Wait. No it wouldn’t. Only if I were thinking about dating Ian would it complicate things. And I was definitely NOT thinking about dating Ian...at all.

  I didn’t even realize I had made my way over to him, but before I could stop myself I was shaking Ian awake. I still hadn’t managed to close my jaw and form any type of expression other than shock and awe, but Lord help me, I was just stuck in a state of surprise.

  “Where are we, Ian?”

  “We’re at my apartment. I told you I was bringing you here, remember?” He groaned, his voice muffled from being pressed against a pillow.

  “This is YOUR apartment? Are you shitting me right now?”

  “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s why I never bring women here. It looks juvenile and I’ve never felt like having to explain myself, so if you could keep this between us I would appreciate it.”

  I finally looked down at him as he was sitting up, rubbing his face with the palm of his hands. He was wearing loose sweat pants and no shirt or socks. Holy Hell in a hamster wheel, if my jaw dropped any further then it might dislocate itself. You could easily tell by looking at him in clothes that he was fit, but nothing prepared me for seeing him without a shirt. I didn’t think I’d seen that type of perfection unless it was photoshopped.

  Sitting there, half naked on his couch, he wasn’t as intimidating somehow. I didn’t realize until just then exactly how he really affected me. Especially when he was in his power suit, perfectly tailored to fit his toned body. He was the epitome of success and power. Everything I loathed in a man. Yet here, he just seemed…. normal.

  Suddenly, I found it damn near impossible to resist reaching out and touching him. I wanted to run my fingers through his gorgeous hair, feel it’s silkiness between my fingers. I was still in so much shock from his apartment and his glorious abs that I had even less control over myself tha
n I did when I was drunk.

  Before I could stop myself, I pushed my fingers through his hair. It felt even better than I imagined and a moan slipped out of my mouth involuntarily. He jerked his head up from my unexpected touch and I could see clearly on his face what he was feeling. Desire. Not just desire, but pure, unadulterated lust. His tight jaw told me he was forcing himself to stay still, the muscles on his forearms twitched from fighting the urge to reach out and touch me.

  I should be questioning that line of thinking. I should have been warning myself to be careful, reminding myself that it wasn’t possible for him to have those feelings towards me. That feeling anything towards him wasn’t safe. But before I could force myself back to reality, I felt his big hands pulling me down, straddling me over his lap. My hand was still in his hair, the other placed firmly on his shoulder. One of his hands was placed firmly on my hip while his other hand found it’s way around the back of my neck.

  I wanted to resist. I should have resisted. I knew what would happen if I didn’t stop both us. Pain. Not right then, right then would be glorious. But later, when he grew bored with me or realized that I couldn’t satisfy him like he wanted, that’s when the pain would come. As the harsh truth of those thoughts started to send signals to the rest of my body, warning me to stop, he broke my train of thought by crashing his lips to mine.

  I froze at first, tightening every muscle in my body, but his mouth was gentle and warm. Involuntarily, my body relaxed and my lips had a mind of their own. His tongue started gently massaging my lower lip, coaxing, begging for an invitation. The throbbing between my legs won the battle over my logic, and with the proverbial snap of a finger, all inhibitions were lost.

  Chapter 11

  Ian

  Her mouth on mine felt even better than I imagined it would. The kiss started off gentle, but quickly became hungry and rough, as if she were afraid slowing down would give her too much time to overthink what was happening. I pulled away and stared into her eyes, desperate to see the same need I was feeling reflected in them. Her chest was heaving up and down with harsh breaths and a myriad of emotions played across her face. Hunger. Fear. Pain? Before I could ask, my phone rang. I was going to ignore it, but I could tell by the expression on her face that the moment was broken. She was already shutting down, putting the walls back up and closing herself off to me.

  Dammit!

  “What!?” I yelled into phone.

  “Well fuck you very much, asshole.”

  “Stacy?”

  “Yeah it’s me, dumbass.”

  “Is that Stacy? Is she okay?” Adalyn asked me while straightening her clothes, inching further away from me. Wait, those weren’t her clothes. Were those MY clothes? She offered me an apologetic smile when she saw me eyeing the baggy pants and t-shirt that hung loosely from her body. I didn’t even bother trying to hide the smile it gave me, thinking of her making herself comfortable in my home. I had been so wrapped up in the feel of her when she put her fingers through my hair that I didn’t even notice that her own hair was wet. Visions of Adalyn, wet in my shower, flashed through my mind and I turned slightly in an attempt to conceal how much our kiss and the fantasy of a wet, naked Adalyn were turning me on.

  “Is that Adalyn? Where are you? Why are you together? You know what, bigger shit to deal with right now. Put her on the phone.”

  “Stacy, where are…”

  “Put her on the fucking phone, Ian!”

  Handing my phone to Adalyn, I headed to the kitchen for a drink of water, trying like hell to fight the disappointment taking over me, wishing I could just go back 20 minutes and put my damn phone on silent.

  Chapter 12

  Adalyn

  “Okay listen, I don’t have much time, but I’m telling you now that you and I are going to discuss this shit later and don’t even think of getting out of it. You are going to tell me every detail of the last twelve hours you spent with Ian. But right now, I need you to come get me out of jail.”

  “WHAT!? Why are you still in jail? I thought that cop was just messing with you.”

  “Ha! Yeah, apparently the dickwad failed to mention that his shift was ending. He brought me here and fucking left. HE LEFT! And the rest of these assholes said they couldn’t release me because Officer Fuckwad brought me in and hadn’t done any paperwork and so I had to wait for him to get back. Though they were laughing the whole time so who knows if that’s even true.”

  I could hear a muffled man’s voice in the background.

  “Yeah, FUCK YOU pencil dick. What are you gonna do? Arrest me for calling you on your bullshit? Last I checked, you can’t keep me here just because you don’t like me. This is a clear abuse of your power. I hope you know I’m going to make your life fucking miserable for this.”

  Oh my god. Was she seriously threatening a cop? While she was in JAIL?! Oh shit. Oh shit. What if she gets tasered. The image of Stacy writhing around on the ground because one of the officer’s got sick of her attitude was actually pretty hysterical. Somehow I managed to keep myself from laughing.

  “Stacy, please tell me you aren’t talking to a police officer.”

  “No, I’m not talking to a police officer. I’m talking to THREE of them. And they are all fucking pricks.” She sounded angry but I could have sworn I heard her laugh after another muffled male voice chimed in. “Unless one or all of you sexy bastards want to come over here and strip search me and fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine, then you should probably shut the hell up.” She mumbled something else into the phone, but it was muffled I couldn’t understand it.

  “Listen, Stacy. We’re on our way. Just please, please try not to do anything stupid. Please.”

  “Yeah, yeah whatever. Just get your cute ass down here and get me out of this place before I start tearing off all my clothes and dry humping the bars to my cell. These cops may be jerks but they are seriously hot, and you know how I get around hot jerks.”

  It didn’t take long to find Stacy. We followed the sound of her voice. By the time we reached her, she had been let out of the cell and was standing off to the side talking to a couple of officers. She had dialed down the bitchiness and turned up the charm, and these unsuspecting souls were already under her spell. I cleared my throat and she turned to face me, then ran over and hugged me. Then she punched me.

  “What the hell was that for?” I asked, rubbing my arm. She’d hit me hard enough that I knew it would bruise.

  “For letting that prick of a cop bring me here last night.”

  “Um, Stacy. He’s a police officer. What did you expect me to do? If I would have tried to stop him then I would have ended up in here with you.”

  “Yeah, but at least I wouldn’t have been alone. That was the longest night of my life. And what if he had let me go later in the night? You would have just left me stranded with no way to get home? What if something bad happened to me?!”

  “First of all, don’t even try to pretend like you didn’t enjoy yourself. Second of all, I highly doubt an entire precinct of policeman would have let something bad happen to you. Surely you’ve managed to make a friend while you were in here.” Instead of responding to me, Stacy turned and winked at one of the officers she had just been talking to.

  Just then the officer from last night walked in, wearing a shit eating grin. I could feel Stacy’s anger vibrating off of her as she stood next to me, and she growled. Loudly. Not one of those low, barely audible growls. No, she was growling at him like a warning, telling him if he came too close she would whip out her claws and scratch his eyes out.

  The officer Stacy had just winked at walked over to us and introduced himself as Joe, who was apparently the arresting officer’s partner.

  “Don’t listen to Stacy, I kept her company all night. She had a great time,” he said as he winked back at Stacy. “Chad’s not a bad guy, he just has a low tolerance for drunk chicks and their shenanigans.” Stacy punched his arm and they started to bicker playfully. They were acting as if they’d k
nown each other for years. Not that unusual for Stacy to make friends, but it was unusual that their banter sounded completely friendly and platonic. Joe was extremely attractive and Stacy not flirting with him was strange.

  Putting that curiosity aside to ask Stacy about later, I walked up to the desk to file my report. It was going to be such a pain getting all my credit cards cancelled and reissued and I’d have to get a new phone. Dammit. I really needed to get a job. It was time to quit stalling and start trying to figure out what to do with my life.

  Chapter 13

  Ian

  While the girls dealt with the police, I made some calls off to the side. Eventually I had to step out so I could hear over Stacy’s yelling. She’s naturally pretty confrontational but I’d never seen anyone get under her skin the way this officer did. About a half hour later, I had to literally drag Stacy out of the station with us while she flailed her arms around, shooting empty threats of violence against a station full of law enforcement. Crazy dumbass.

  Stacy was practically a sister to me and we’d been friends as long as I could remember. Carrie and I practically lived at her house when we were young. Our parents used to fight constantly, then after our dad left us, our mom became really depressed. She wouldn’t get out of bed for days and we would never have food to eat in our house, so Stacy’s mom had kind of taken us in as her own and when we weren’t at school we were at her house, only going home to sleep.

  About a year after our dad left, mom got really sick. Her symptoms weren’t as obvious at first because she had started drinking, but when it started to become obvious something was really wrong I begged her to see a doctor, but she wouldn’t go. It wasn’t until she actually passed away three years after my dad had left that we found out what was even wrong with her.

  I managed to make it through high school while trying to take care of my mom and Carrie, but my grades had suffered because of it. Because I was only fifteen when our dad left I had been forced to grow up very quickly. He sent money every month, so I took over managing the bills, so at least we weren’t completely homeless since most days our mom wouldn’t even get out of bed.