Rescuing the Bad Boy (Second Chance #2)(80)

“Poetic.”

Yeah, well.

After he’d hauled her off the hood of his Jeep, he’d lowered the hatch in the back and thrown her onto an old quilt there for just this purpose. Getting her out here hadn’t been hard. He told her he wanted to check the property and see how Connor did. Which was not true. Connor didn’t need to be babysat.

The moment she stepped out of the Jeep and tilted her head to take in the starry sky, he’d made his move. He kissed her and that’d been it. He had to have her.

Damn. She’d been as sexy in her dress as she was out of it.

Almost.

Using both hands she pushed against his chest. “I should…”

Before she could leave him altogether, his palms closed around her hips.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he whispered. “Slowly.”

She shifted, letting him loose very, very slowly, while he enjoyed the slippery feel of her sliding away. Not as good as when she’d lowered herself onto him, but still.

He made room for her to lay next to him.

“Like it like that,” he murmured, holding her close. His arm closed around her shoulders and stroking the smooth skin of her shoulder. Being inside her without barriers was his favorite part of this whole thing with her.

She tipped her chin to take him in, and when he met her eyes she whispered, “Fucking amazing.” That cute, crooked smile.

“Didn’t peg you for a dirty girl.”

She propped her chin on the hand resting on his chest. “I’m a lot of things when I’m with you.”

Her comment settled into the air around him. A lot of truth there. A lot for him to think about. A lot for him to own up to. His hand moved lazily on her shoulder. He was a lot of things when he was with her, too. He was relaxed. He was playful. He didn’t think about the next thing to do that would take his attention away from bad memories. He just thought of her.

Same as seven years ago.

She pressed into him, tits smashing into his chest. He loved the feel of her skin on his, the way she was touching him now, running her fingers lightly over his chest. The night air was cool, but not too cool. His flesh still burned from having her.

“I wasn’t saving it, you know,” she said.

His hand stilled.

“My virginity,” she said. “I wasn’t saving it.”

He wondered if she felt his heart kick against her palm.

“Don’t get me wrong. I wanted my first time to be special.”

His muscles locked. He was guessing her definition of “special” wasn’t being accused of being too tight followed by being asked to get dressed immediately after. God, he’d been a self-centered *.

Finger to his chin, she turned his head so he was looking at her. “None of my high school boyfriends were anywhere near the same town as special.”

He could imagine. He was an idiot when he was in high school. Then he dropped out, got his GED, and became a bigger idiot.

“By the time I graduated,” she said, “took a few college classes, and went on more than a few not-so-great dates, I still hadn’t found what I defined as special.”

He never thought of his virginity as special. Then again, he never thought of much of anything as special. Things just… were.

“I don’t regret it.” Her voice went the slightest bit harder. “But I was pissed at you for a while.”

She should have been. He deserved any anger she threw his way. Though he was glad she hadn’t held on to it. And not just because it would’ve jeopardized him being here with her now.

“I was hurt for a longer while,” she admitted.

And that was the part he hated most. A muscle in his jaw worked as he clamped his teeth together. With the arm wrapped around her shoulders, he gave her a light squeeze. Because he didn’t quite know how to apologize for what he’d done, he simply said, “Scampi.”

“I was pissed at myself for a while, too. But I never regretted that night. Because I knew what I wanted. At the time, it was you.”

He turned his head and felt his mouth compress into a grim line. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she wanted now. What the hell she was doing with him.

Which wasn’t like him. He didn’t question situations. He lived in the present. Action, reaction. Life was simple.

Shifting his body, he cupped her jaw, brought her mouth to his. He kissed her slowly, deliberately. While their mouths mated, the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her naked body brushing his, and the way her fingers slid along the back of his neck, made the pain from his past melt away.

He ended the kiss and heard her sigh, a soft “hmm” sound as her fingertips continued tangling in his hair.

Feeling as if he should acknowledge what she’d said, he muttered, “Shit time for your first.”

“What was yours like?” she asked, her fingers tickling his scalp.

“Sixteen. Wild party. She was high, I was hammered.” The memory was hazy at best. “Don’t even remember her name.”

Sofie trailed her hand from his head to his jaw. “Shit time for your first.”

God, this woman. She got him.

He kissed her before he reasoned he shouldn’t. And when he did, thoughts raced in his head. He shouldn’t be kissing her. The way she made him feel… those feelings were warning signs he continued to ignore. He wished he could make it up to her, that first time in the library, the callused way he’d treated her.