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“No, dammit, I can’t.”
He crashes his mouth to mine and starts walking me backward. I barely notice when my back hits the wall. His tongue traces my mouth, parts my lips and thrusts inside. My body jerks, my blood on fire. My pulse is hammering in my ears.
I’m so happy to be close to him again. My whole body is lighting up like a firework. Happy, and nervous, and excited, and holy shit, he feels so good, his big body pressing into mine like he’s trying to wrap himself around my bones.
Around my heart.
His tongue touches mine, and I press back. He moans and deepens the kiss, his arms coming to rest on the wall by my head, bracketing me in. He sucks on my tongue, on my lips, his cock pressing on my stomach, long and hard and insistent.
He tastes like spice and desire and Ocean, and God, I’ve missed him. More than I can express with words.
Winding my arms around his neck, I kiss him with everything I have, everything I’ve been struggling to hold inside.
He gasps against my mouth, his hips rocking into me, and the pressure building in my core is skyrocketing.
My oxygen is running out, and I break the kiss, panting. We both suck in desperate gulps of air, and he winces as he draws back.
Oh crap, his ribs! I try to sort of push on his shoulders, but not too hard in case he’s bruised there too, but he doesn’t budge. His gaze is glued to my mouth, and his eyes burn a midnight blue under his long lashes.
His arms are still braced on the wall, not allowing me to move.
Not that I want to.
“Kay.” His voice is hoarse. “Need you.”
“I need you, too,” I tell him. “So much.”
His next breath is shaky. “I have to tell you about Raine. And Livvy.” He licks his lips. “Tell you everything.”
The fear returns. Despite dying to know about his past, I’m not sure I want to know about this Livvy and about how she still holds his affection. Not right now.
“Later.” I tug on the back of his neck to kiss him again. “We have time.”
He shakes his head. “Tomorrow,” he says, “there’s something I have to do, and before that, I need to tell you everything. I need to tell you, and hold you, and bury myself inside you.”
The seriousness in his voice, his expression sobers me up. “Okay. So what about Livvy and Raine? Was she your girlfriend?”
“No.” He draws a deep breath. “I was seventeen. She was thirteen. She was good friends with Raine. And her death was my fault.”
“So you say.” Oh God. Livvy is dead. Now it makes sense why he has an angel inked on his arm.
She’s dead…
“My fault. Everyone said so.”
“Who’s everyone?” I ask.
“My parents. Raine. The neighbors. Her parents.”
“Well, I don’t believe it. I know you. I know how good you are inside.”
“I’m not good, Kay. I told you how I tried to take care of Raine. Of us.” I reach up, stroke his face, and he blinks, lost in memory. “We begged for food, we ate from the trash, we raided the neighbor’s kitchens. It wasn’t enough. There’s a guy at the trailer park, Duane. He organizes car races with some of the stupid rich city trash. He has two cars, and he hires drivers desperate enough to drive them for some money. If you win, you get lot of cash. If you lose the race, you get a little. Anything was better than nothing. So when I turned fifteen, I started racing.”
There’s a lump in my throat. “God.”
“Raine was still twelve. Livvy ten. They thought I was the adult, the responsible person in their lives. I was their idol, their example. One day, Livvy and Raine got into one of Duane’s cars and sped off.” He swallows convulsively. “They crashed into a pole. Livvy died on the spot. Raine survived.” He shakes his head. “I bring flowers to her grave every week. She liked lilies.”
The dead flowers in his car. Lilies.
