Chapter 18 Amy #2
He stops in his tracks, creating space between us, and he’s so mad right now I can’t tell whether he’s keeping his distance for his safety or my own.
I meet his eye, my knees almost buckling as a wave of lightheadedness washes over me.
I suddenly don’t feel too good. We were heading in the right direction; I was earning back his trust. And I just fucked all that up.
I need to show a little humility, I know.
And so it’s time for me to do something I never do. Time for me to say I’m sorry.
“Listen, I’m—”
“I show you how to use an app, and you’re like, ‘Hey, I know—I should go fuck some shit up’? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Talk about ruining the moment…
“Quit yelling at me!”
“Yelling? You push me to the fucking brink—do you get that?” he roars. “Every time I try to trust you, you show me why I really, really shouldn’t.”
“I was just handling something for RJ,” I protest. “It’s not like I was robbing a bank!”
“You had your hands around some guy’s throat, Amy!”
“It was a mix-up, okay? I was just helping out!”
He shakes his head. “You can’t fucking do this anymore, okay? What part of that aren’t you getting? Why is it so hard for you to just be a normal girl?”
That hurt.
“You think it’s easy for me?”
“Oh, I know it isn’t! Poor you, Amy—it must be so hard, not beating the crap out of people…”
I lunge for him, freezing inches away from his face.
“It’s got nothing to do with that.”
“So help me understand.”
Okay, try this for size—I’m obsessed with you, and I’m trying to cling on to the only life raft I know before I get washed away.
I could just say that—the words are right there on the tip of my tongue. But I’d literally rather die. Instead, I decide to fumble for a sideswipe.
“I was doing it for RJ, okay? We aren’t all lucky enough to make money sitting on our asses in a car.”
“That’s exactly what you’ll be doing if you could just chill the fuck out. But if that’s too much for you, Amy, then just say it—say it, and all this can end here.”
Worry tugs at me. How many times are we going to keep having this conversation, before he loses his patience? The mist lifts, clearing to something much less familiar and harder to bear. Panic.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I start. “I’m trying to change, but it’s like taking a step into the dark. It’s like it holds up this light to everything I’m not, and that gets me all worked up, and I go looking for an outlet.”
“And that’s exactly why I gave you that track pass.”
I had forgotten all about that—not that he can ever know.
“They’re closed over vacation.”
“So, get creative.” He leans into me. “Find something else to do.”
“Like what?”
That was supposed to sound defiant. It came out like I’m a whiny little girl.
He frowns, like he’s suddenly understanding where I’m coming from, and lets out a sigh. You could cut the air between us with a knife. The muscles in his jaw twitch, his lips narrowing, and he’s so close, I could lower my mouth over his and kiss all that tension away for both of us, if only he…
“You drive me insane,” he says through gritted teeth.
Right back at you.
I don’t even need to look down. I can picture his fists clenched, the veins in his forearms pulsing.
“Why don’t you just talk to me about stuff, instead of running off to do something dumb?”
“I can handle myself—I don’t need anyone else to take care of my shit.”
“You know what pisses me off most, Amy?” he growls. “The moment I think I’ve got you back on track, you wriggle free.”
“Gee, sorry I’m not the kind of girl who gives up control,” I drawl. “I never pretended to be.”
The light in his eyes shifts. “You sure about that? Because you seemed okay with it back at that motel.”
I gasp.
In a flash, the anger on his face shifts into desire, and suddenly I’m back to wanting him again. The frequency has changed, and he’s wide open, willing and waiting—I know he is.
“You’re right. I was okay with it. And maybe that’s exactly what I need…”
“That’s not how this is supposed to go.”
“Oh, silly me. Won’t somebody think of ‘the rules’?”
Before I know it, his tongue is in my mouth, my body trembling with anticipation as my hands grasp for his hips, pulling him into me, feeling him hard against my jeans.
“Am I fired?” I whisper into his mouth.
I don’t care that he’s crossed a boundary. I don’t care if I get fired. All I care about is having him.
“I’m gonna go with yes.”
I laugh, and he covers his lips with mine hungrily. I hook my arms around his neck and pull myself up to wrap my legs around his waist, feeling him buck against me, pressing into me for more. He runs his hands up and down my back, lifting me onto the Aston Martin behind us.
I have no idea how we just went from fighting to this, but we’re too busy mouthing at each other for any talk.
He breaks away from me, tugging down on my waistband, stripping me down to my knees in one smooth yank, and I wrestle his jacket off, clawing at the fabric, burying my tongue between his lips whenever he pulls away for too long.
He jerks back again, his eyes full of desire, and as he eases my panties down my legs, I feel like I’m about to faint.
I don’t care if anyone walks in on us—all I can think about is how much more I want from him.
I part my legs, and when I see a smile flit over his face, my nipples stiffen.
He steps forward, pushing me back until I’m stretched out across the car, pinning my wrist down over my head, leaning into me, working my tongue with his, and I let out a moan when he slips two fingers inside me.
I arch my back, aching for more, but he holds me down with the flat of his hand, urging me still.
If this is the kind of control he wants, he can have it all.
He carries on and on, covering my mouth with kisses, gliding his hand back and forth, the car beneath me slick with sweat.
I bite down on his bottom lip, refusing to beg, relishing the growl starting in the base of his throat, feeling his fingers reaching farther now, harder, faster, finally relenting and giving me what I so badly want.
“Still feel the need to go skulking around warehouses?”
I keep one hand on his back as the other fumbles for his fly, and once I have his dick hot and heavy in my palm, I match him stroke for stroke.
“I don’t think I need to anymore.”
He’s swelling in my hand, thrusting with his hips when I hold back, nudging at me for more, gently biting at my lip and gliding his tongue down my neck.
“Looks like it’s my turn to bend you over a car,” he whispers into my ear.
I shiver with delight.
“That all you got?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve got so much more.”
I know he’s only talking about us fucking, but there’s a part of me that wants to hold on to those words like a promise. I sigh into his lips, smiling, my breath coming shallow, faster, panting now until finally I get what I’ve been craving for so long.
“Come here.”
I shimmy my pants up and let myself fall into his arms, my whole body loose and glowing. He hikes me up against his chest and carries me out of the garage and all the way up the stairs to my bedroom, lowering me down while I fumble for my key.
I double-lock the door behind me, and by the time I turn around, he’s lying on my bed.
Things would’ve been a whole lot easier if we’d just done this earlier.
I undress slowly, giving him time to drink me in, letting his gaze trace the outlines of my curves as I unhook my bra. He slings an arm behind his head, his eyes lingering over every inch of me. My skin is on fire.
This time, I undress him—still slow, careful, languidly peeling off his jeans, his top, my fingers hovering over his boxers, edging them down and taking a moment to take in the sheer size of him.
I pad back to my desk and pluck out a condom.
Thank you, big sister. I guess Raven was always worried I’d screw up the way she did.
Slowly, I roll the condom down his length, and he lets out a moan.
“Shhh…”
I gesture at the door—we haven’t got the place to ourselves tonight.
My eyes drift up to his face, my heart fluttering against my breastbone.
He’s so damn beautiful. Suddenly, he pulls himself up and grabs me by the waist, flipping me over and letting me fall back onto the mattress, and what happens next is a blur.
Hovering over me, his right hand pushing my thigh up and away, he thrusts into me so hard and fast my breath catches in my throat, and there’s nothing gentle about him now—but this is how I want him, too.
Though I came all of five minutes ago, I’m ready for more.
His mouth is on my breasts, all over, as he rocks back and forth, gliding in and out of me relentlessly, pounding to a beat that goes on and on until finally I come so hard I think I’m about to pass out, and he’s right there with me a second later.
He collapses beside me on the bed, tosses the condom to one side, and flicks off the light.
I stare at him.
“That just about killed me,” he murmurs.
He yanks the comforter over his shoulders, and I’m so confused.
Wait, is this his way of saying he plans on staying over tonight?
I know better than to say anything—there’s too much going on inside me.
I’m a mess. I snuggle into the covers. I don’t have the energy to get up and find something to wear, and so we just lie there in the dark together, limbs tangled, my bare skin hot against his.
I don’t know which of us falls asleep first. And I don’t know who won that fight.