Crash into You (Pushing the Limits, #3)(82)

Rachel shifts forward on my lap, unbuttons her coat and slides it off. “Little warm.”

I take the lighter she still grasps in her hand and place it in the cup holder. When I go to move the blanket she stops me by cuddling back into my body. “I chose the blanket over my coat.”

Tonight has been a constant give-and-take between us, and I’d like her to give a little more. “Do you see a therapist about your panic attacks?”

When I’m greeted with the sound of the rain tapping the top of the car, I switch tactics. “Noah’s girlfriend, Echo—she’s had some issues and she sees someone. It helps her.”

“I used to. In middle school and a little in my freshman year, but then I stopped.” Rachel’s pause highlights her struggle for words. “My mom worried. Constantly. It wasn’t normal. She wouldn’t let me out of her sight. My older brothers said that she was just as manic as when Colleen had cancer. And then I had several panic attacks in high school.”

Her breath catches as if the memory causes her physical pain.

“I had a couple of harsh attacks in a short period of time and ended up in the hospital. I...I...” It’s as if the words are programmed not to leave her body. “I hated it. I hated how Mom hovered. I hated how my oldest two brothers would compare me to Colleen. I hated how West and Ethan would look at me as if I was dying.

“So...when I got out of the hospital...I found a way to hide the attacks...the anxiety...and eventually my family believed I defeated the panic and for the first time in my life they didn’t see me as weak.”

Weak. I hate the word, especially from her. “If you still suffer from this, you should get help. Screw your family.”

“There’s no way for me to get help without them knowing. Isaiah, I can’t...”

“I see you, you see me, remember? You’re going to have to trust me on this. If you have these attacks then we’ll fix them. I only care about you. Not your family.”

“You are bossy.”

“Protective,” I counter, and run my hand along the length of her leg.

Rachel lets out a contented sigh. “I wish we could be like this forever.”

“We will be.” I break a cardinal rule and dream of the future. Rachel is a future kind of girl, and I’m going to have to work hard to give her a world worth living in. “With this certification and internship, I’ll have the best jobs. I can’t give you the world, Rachel, but I’ll give you all I got.”

Her soft lips kiss my jaw and my body temperature spikes. Holding on to Rachel is like holding on to a flame. It’s a soothing burn and an addictive burn. Her kiss is pure fire.

“Being with you is enough.” She adjusts so that she can look at me, and I love how the spark has returned to her eyes. “We could open our own shop.”

I curl her silky hair around my finger and tug lightly. “You and me alone in the garage with you bent over the hood of a powerful engine. I think I can handle that.”

She blushes at my words, but keeps the banter alive. “We’ll only take fast cars or clients who want faster cars. The faster the better.”

I like how she thinks. “If you’re touching cars in our shop, then you’ll have to get your certification.”

“Will you tutor me?”

I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist. Cradling her face in my hands, I brush my lips against hers. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

She rests her forehead on mine. My hand stays against her cheek, and my thumb glides over her soft skin. Rachel’s chest moves faster, almost matching my pace. Energy rushes into my veins and the heat between us teeters on the edge of flames.

“My brothers are going to try to keep us apart,” she whispers, then presses her mouth against my bottom lip. My grip on her waist tightens in response. “What are we going to do?”

I don’t know, but the way she curls in my arms makes me feel like I’m the hero. I like being her hero. I like the way her eyes shine at me, the way her body melts when I touch her, her soft lips on mine. I love her warmth and every curve.

I love her.

My fingers draw up her back and tangle into her hair. “They’ll never separate us.”

“Never,” she repeats.

Our lips crush together, our bodies pressed tight. An inferno of lips and hands and movements that continues to grow in heat. The blanket falls away as Rachel slides her legs so that she straddles me. On the verge of burning up completely, I groan and cling to her small frame. Her hands drift under my shirt, leaving a singeing trail.

We’ve become a wildfire. Almost unstoppable. I kiss her neck and the beautiful sounds escaping her mouth encourage me further. My hands skim under her shirt, up her back, linger for seconds near her bra, and I gently nip her ear when I feel lace.

Images pour into my mind of what she’d look like with her shirt off, then her jeans. My fist traps strands of her hair. “I want you, Rachel.”

And because I do, I kiss her fully on the mouth—nothing left to the imagination. Every fantasy becomes a reality with that one embrace. Then, summoning more willpower than I possess, I end the kiss, cupping her head to my chest.

We both breathe hard. Blood pulses in my temples, throughout my entire body. Need screams for me to bring her back into my arms. But I love Rachel, and the physical between us has to go slow.