Drive Me Wild (Bellamy Creek #1)(54)

“Should we go?” I whispered.

“No. We won’t make it home.” He flipped me onto my back and lay beside me, reaching beneath my dress and stroking me over the damp cotton of my panties. “I want you right here. Right now.”

I undid his jeans and slid one hand inside, grasping his hot, hard length with one hand. “You can have me.”

He wasn’t as rough with me as he’d been last night, and we didn’t get naked or play games or whisper dirty things to each other. But it was every bit as intense—more, even—without having a role to play.

It was just me, wanting to get closer to him.

And him, choosing to let me.





Fourteen





Griffin





Early Sunday morning, I met Cole in front of his mother’s house for a five-mile run. We jogged the first mile without speaking, letting our bodies warm up, our muscles work out the kinks.

Although I had to admit, my body had been feeling pretty fucking great the last few days. I might have been getting less sleep, but I was having the best sex of my entire life. From the first time on my couch, to the storytelling in my bedroom, to the bed of the pickup truck, to last night after dinner . . . I’d taken her to DiFiore’s, an Italian restaurant owned by an uncle of Moretti’s. It was a little pricey, which was why I didn’t go there too often, but Blair had mentioned how much she liked Italian food, so I splurged for a Saturday night out. She must have appreciated it, because we’d barely made it inside my apartment before she jumped up on me. Her back had to be killing her today, the way I’d slammed it against the thick wooden door.

I wasn’t sure if it was Blair herself—although she was fantastic in bed and out of it—or if I’d just forgotten how good it could be to get to know someone sexually, let them learn all your favorite things, discover all of theirs, explore their fantasies, share your own, abandon the frantic showmanship of first times and the need to prove yourself, and start peeling back the layers . . . let them know the real you, even if it was dirty and rough and messy and not always nice. It had been a long time since I’d felt so at ease with someone, in bed and out.

I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

Pushing her from my mind, I picked up the pace a little.

“How’s Mariah?” I asked. “I saw her last week.”

“She told me.” He laughed. “She said Cheyenne told her and her friends you and Blair had gotten married, but it turned out to be a lie.”

“Fucking Cheyenne,” I muttered.

“She said at first she was disappointed, but then she was glad because she wants to be a flower girl at your wedding.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint her, but there’s not going to be any wedding. I’ll take her for an ice cream cone, though.”

“A distant second, but she’d like that.” We ran in silence a few minutes. “I’m a little worried about her.”

I glanced at him. “Why?”

“She’s been spending more time alone in her room, and my mom went in there to clean it recently and found this letter to me. It was full of questions.”

“Questions about what?”

“About her mother. Things that she’s apparently afraid to ask me. She doesn’t want me to get mad or be sad.”

Pain squeezed my heart. “I’m sorry, Cole. That’s rough.”

“I don’t know whether to confront her about it or not. My mother says yes, but I’m worried about violating her privacy.”

“Yeah. That’s a tough call.”

“I think I’m going to contact a therapist. I feel like this is more than I can deal with on my own.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“I’m also worried about the physical changes coming with adolescence, and having to field those kinds of questions.”

“Fuck,” I said, panicked at the thought of facing that situation.

“And it all just makes me miss Trisha more, you know? We should be facing the teenage years together.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just gave him a quick clap on the back.

“Anyway, enough of my shit. How are things going at the shop?” he asked.

“Fine. The bank turned me down again, but we were busy enough to pay the bills. This month, anyway. Next month could be different.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, well . . . what can you do? Blair’s got some crazy scheme going to get back some of the business we lost to Swifty.”

“Yeah?” Cole glanced over at me. “So she’s working for you now?”

“I guess you’d call it that.”

“I thought she was moving up north somewhere.”

“She is. She even has a job lined up already. But I have to get her car fixed first, and since she doesn’t have any extra money, she’s sort of working off the cost in trade.”

“Uh huh. And what all is she trading?”

I glanced at Cole and saw his grin. “Fuck off,” I said. But I laughed too. “We’re just having fun.”

“Fun is good. I vaguely remember that kind of fun.”

“So get back out there.”