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Holy shit, the things she says… they’re like heroin, addicting me faster than anything I’ve ever tried.
“I can’t ask you to be mine,” I say quietly, because it’s fucking tearing me apart that I can’t. “Not while this is going down. No matter how much I want it.”
“But I am yours,” she replies, just like that taking my heart in her hands. Her eyes are clear like a summer sky. “I’ve been yours from the start. Though, illegal car races are kind of lousy as first dates go, I have to say.”
A chuckle escapes me, then the meaning of her words hits me, an
d my breath catches. “I’ll make it up to you,” I joke, but it comes out strangled.
God, this girl…
“You’d better,” she whispers, then moans when I slip my hand between her legs, stroking her seam, teasing her clit. “Oh crap, Blue…”
“I love it when you say my name,” I say and enter her again, making love to her until we both pass out on the sofa, wrapped up in each other’s arms.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kayla
It’s late when I wake up in his bed. I can barely remember when we moved there from the sofa. I’m pretty sure I remember him taking me on the table, and on the rug, before reaching the bed. I smell of sweat and sex, and I’m sore down there.
It’s a good soreness. It reminds me that he was inside me many times. That he said he loves me. That he wants to be with me, and the only thing holding him back is the uncertainty of his situation right now.
The car race.
God.
Fully awake now, I grab one of his T-shirt that’s lying on a chair—it smells like him, and my sex gives a knowing throb—then I slip into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth with a glob of toothpaste on my finger.
Feeling marginally better, I wander into the living room and then the kitchenette from which an aroma of fresh coffee is wafting.
Can’t believe I stayed at his apartment, in his bed. That he told me everything. And when I enter the kitchenette and find him standing there in a faded black tank top and loose, low-slung sweats, it becomes even more real—and more surreal.
This boy is hot as hell.
Then he turns around, smiling when he sees me, and his eyes go a deeper blue. “Morning. “Coffee?”
I nod absently, watching his strong, long-fingered hands as he pours me a cup. The patterns they drew on me, in me, last night… I shiver.
“Sleep okay?” He leans back against the counter, planting one bare foot against it—and damn, that’s sexy, too. He has sexy feet, strong, with high arches.
I’m in too deep. As if I didn’t know.
“Kay.” His smile is gone when I focus on his face. “What’s the matter? Changed your mind?”
“What?” I blink. “About driving you today?”
He lowers his mug and stares into it, then shrugs, his mouth turning down in an unhappy shape. “About being with me.”
Is he serious?
“You can’t switch off love,” I inform him, willing him to hear the truth in my voice. “Nor would I want to.”
He looks up, his gaze intense. Whatever it is he’s searching for in my expression, it seems he finds it, because his shoulders relax, and he shoots me a brilliant smile that makes my heart melt.
Then he puts down his mug, and the predatory look on his face sends me back a step before I realize what’s happening. “Um. What are you doing?”
“You have three guesses.” He takes the mug from my hand, puts it on the table and presses me up against the wall. “What do you think I’m doing?”
