Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(43)

I turned to face him, praying he’d gather his senses, restart the truck, and pull back out on the road.

Suddenly, I was scared.

Suddenly, I wanted out of the game.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a shaky voice. “Take me home.”

He turned to me and the moonlight cut across his face, casting him half in shadow.

“Unbuckle your seatbelt.”





Chapter Seventeen


Erik





“What are we doing here?” Brie asked, her voice wavering. “It’s late.”

Now she was scared. Now she was the meek girl she had tried hard to convince me she wasn’t.

“Unbuckle your seatbelt,” I repeated.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out at the road, resisting me. I pushed off my seat and reached over to unbuckle her myself.

“Hey—”

I cut her off. “Prove it.”

“Prove what?” She turned to glare at me, fire brewing behind her narrowed eyes. “God, just take me back to the house or we’re going to start fighting again.”

Even as she tried to argue, her body contradicted her words. Her heart was racing beneath that thin cotton dress. Her pupils were dilated. Her hands shook as she crossed her arms, steeling herself against me. The air between us was charged—electric—and when she took her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down, I knew she could feel it too.

“Prove you’re not the weak girl. Prove you can get out of your head for once in your life.”

I saw the fire spark in her eyes after that. They were smoldering.

She was fierce; she wanted to be seen, and not just for her gymnastics skills. No, she wanted to be desired. Coveted. Craved. Had anyone ever touched her the way she wanted to be touched? Had anyone ever ripped that bun out and tugged her long hair, tilting her head back to expose the creamy skin of her neck?

I wanted to devour her. I wanted to reach across the front seat, tilt her neck to the side, and drag my mouth down her chest, listening for soft moans and cues for where to take my lips next. But sitting in the moonlight with her trim body and her delicate features, she looked scared. I wouldn’t touch her until she proved to me she wasn’t. If I pushed this past the point of no return, I didn’t want to break her.

For three long breaths, we stared at each other from opposite sides of the truck. Her eyes widened, questioning whether or not I was serious, and I told myself that if she looked away, if she broke the connection, I’d restart the ignition and take her home.

When a slow-spreading smile overtook her pink lips, I nearly lost control. I contained my urge to reach over and pull her onto my lap, to force her to feel my erection between her thighs, but suddenly there was no need. She was moving, pushing off her seat and crawling over. She draped one leg on either side of my hips and slowly—so f*cking slowly—she slid down to straddle me. Jesus. She was so sexy. Her dress rode up on her hips, exposing her bare thighs. I touched her knees and then dragged my hands higher. I gripped her thighs tightly, keeping her there as she settled into place. I could feel her shake, nervous about crossing the line we’d both been walking for weeks.

“You’re right, I’ve never been touched by someone like you,” she said, leaning forward to drag her lips across my neck. “Show me what I’ve been missing.” She sighed and her warm breath hit my neck like a shot of lust. My palms moved higher and I glanced down, watching as I unveiled another few inches of her thighs. Her skin was velvet there.

“Are you going to teach me?” she asked, pressing her lips to my neck again.

I groaned and squeezed her thighs, answering her without words. My thumbs were an inch away from her panties, so damn close and she knew it. Her breathing picked up. Her breasts pressed against my chest with each inhale she took. Her nipples were tight little buds, further proving her desire.

“Touch me,” she begged.

Fuck.

I ripped one of my hands from her thighs and gripped her neck, tilting her head so that when my lips crashed against hers, she couldn’t pull back. She wanted to be felt and I was too selfish to leave her hanging. I kissed her once, softly, then pulled back to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were wide and dilated. Her lips were parted and just as I leaned in to kiss her again, she fell forward to meet me. I kissed her hard and she whimpered. Her lips were soft, tentative, but she warmed up quickly and started kissing me back with equal fervor. She tasted so sweet and when I tilted her head to the side and slipped my tongue past her lips, she ground down against me, rubbing herself against the zipper of my jeans.

She knew how to move. She knew how to use her little body. All those years of ballet ensured she knew how to keep a rhythm and she was teasing me, showing me how good it would be with her on top, rolling her hips and riding me until I couldn’t stand it. I used my hand to grip her waist, keeping her against me as I rose up to meet her. Her panties were nothing, silky and thin and so f*cking wet I knew I’d have a stain on my jeans when we were done.

She pulled her mouth free and dragged it up to my ear, whispering against my skin, “Don’t make me beg for it.”

I grinned and leaned back to stare down at her. She was a vision. Her lips were swollen and red. Her bun was falling out and long strands of brown hair fluttered around her face, framing her high cheekbones.