Rules of Survival(64)

He widened his path, running his fingers from hip to hip, sliding the band of the pants down just a hair with each pass until they sat dangerously low on my hips. His breathing quickened as his gaze dropped to the hem of my T-shirt. “I really hate that shirt.”

“Do you?” I asked. Somewhere along the line, this thing between us had become something. I had no idea what, but there were feelings here I wanted to explore. I’d been sure I would never connect with anyone. That all the things I’d been forced to be, and do, and sacrifice, would prevent me from having any type of relationship with another human.

But it wasn’t true. I’d connected with Shaun. Connected in a very real, and very intense, way. I had no idea what waited for me tomorrow, or even three hours from now. I could end up in a cage or six feet under. The only thing that was certain, the only thing guaranteed, was right now. This moment.

Decision made, I said, “I don’t like it, either.” I pulled the shirt over my head and, since I couldn’t take it off, tucked it behind my neck. Then I placed my hands on Shaun’s chest and slid his shirt up.

I was about to pull it over his head, but he seized my hands. “Kayla…” He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before blowing out hard. I felt the weight of his gaze on me, lingering on my newly exposed skin. I’d never been semi-naked with a guy before. Being there in front of him in just a pair of sweatpants and my bra should have freaked me the hell out. But there it was again. That feeling of life. Of control. Shaun let go of my hands and started to reach for me, then cursed and backed away. “Doing that presents an entirely new set of problems.”

My pulse soared another notch. If this kept up, it should short-circuit.

I sucked in a breath and finished what I started with his shirt. Running my fingers lightly across the burn scars on his shoulder, I skimmed across to trace the outline of the ink on his other shoulder. Strength. “Problems?”

He kept his hands to himself, but leaned across and brushed his lips to my neck. Skimming the skin, feather light, he whispered in my ear, “I’m having kind of a hard time keeping my hands to myself.” When he pulled away, his eyes roamed my body again, lingering on the sweatpants. He licked his lips, sighing like he’d just gotten a taste of the very best blueberry cobbler on the planet.

“Control is overrated,” I said with a smile.

He laughed. Not an amused chuckle, but a deep, dark sound that did amazing things to the nerves in my body, setting each and every one on fire. “Control? That’s what I’m afraid of. It seems I’ve got no control when it comes to you.”

The words, his voice, the way he just kept staring… In that moment, I wanted this more than anything in the world. “Then what the hell are you waiting for?”

He leaned in again, this time nipping at my earlobe. “I’m not a sweet guy, Kayla,” he murmured, breath hot against my neck. “I’m not Mr. Smooth and Calm.”

I nodded. What had he said—he liked things “rough”? It should have scared me, but I found myself even more excited. “Impulse-control issues,” I said, gasping as he planted tiny kisses down my neck and across my throat. There was something hotter than hell about the fact that he still hadn’t touched me. His hands hadn’t moved. “I remember.”

“For example, right now I’m having a hard time not tearing your clothes off…” He tugged the right strap of my bra down with his teeth, lightly grazing my shoulder.

I nearly broke right then and there.

Still, he didn’t raise a finger to me. “This could get outta control. We’ve been dancing around this for days. I’m not sure what my restraint level is. You sure you trust me?”

Whatever it was between Shaun and me took over. It clouded my brain—in a good way—and made me feel free and alive. I wanted more of that. I needed it.

I caught his gaze and held it. “I trust you.” The words left my mouth, and the weight of them, the sincerity, terrified me. I did trust him. He’d worked his way into my heart and onto a list that was exactly one name—now two—long.

His resolve shattered. I saw it come crashing down, and after only a moment of hesitation, he pushed forward to claim my lips. My skin heated. There was something so raw about him. So primal. It fed the fluttery feeling in my belly and fanned into something warm—no, hot—that spread throughout my entire body.

Every nerve was alive. It was our time in the trailer amped past ten, all-consuming and laced with a heady kind of possessive need. His tongue traced along my bottom lip, then the top, as a contented groan came from deep in his throat. This was new territory for me, so I couldn’t say much about what I did and didn’t like, but I was into the way he’d taken my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, so I did the same to him.

It must have been the right move. His arms tightened for a second before he thrust both hands down the back of my pants, nails lightly scraping my skin. I let my cuffed hand fall at my side, free to move where his did. It was a good call. He cupped my backside, fingers kneading the skin to pull me closer. We were pressed against each other, no room for even the slightest breath of air, and yet it was still too far away. There was still too much between us.

We tumbled sideways, hitting the bed, and a shock of cold air assaulted my thighs. He’d dragged the pants down, along with my underwear, and that’s when things got real.