Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)(21)

He pulled back a little and slicked his tongue over the full curve of his bottom lip. That gesture alone could have made me spontaneously orgasm, but he trailed his thumbs along the edge of my jaw, used the edges of his palms to tilt my head back a little, and leaned forward to kiss me softly behind the ear. His mouth was indulgent, sucking, tickling, and knew every single secret spot I seemed to have. I was shivering so hard and whimpering in such a needy way, I had to do something to stop myself from coming apart in his hands like a cheaply made toy. He was handling me like he owned me. Like he had been doing it forever. Like he wanted to give me back everything I had given away in the last year, and I was going to start crying again if I didn’t do something with my hands or with my mouth.

I pressed forward, bent down so I could seal my mouth back over his, and kissed him with all the desperation, all the fearless anticipation, I could feel swirling around in the tiny space with us. I had never been locked in such a passionate embrace, been so turned on and worked up in such an unromantic setting, but none of it mattered because Race’s touch was electric and everything about him and me just seemed to HAVE to happen.

I used my teeth to nip at his lip, swirled my tongue across his, and breathed him in and out. I clutched at his silky hair and tried to refrain from grinding on the erection that was becoming more and more persistent where my legs were spread wantonly across his lap. I wasn’t a sexual dynamo or a shrinking violet. I was just a normal girl with normal needs, but something about this guy made my head go crazy, made my blood go hot and fiery, and I wanted to do things, say things that I had never even thought of before. That was the danger of Race, always making me want what I couldn’t and shouldn’t have.

He pulled back from my ravenous kiss and we looked at each other with lust-filled eyes. We were both breathing like long-distance runners and there was no missing the reaction from either of our bodies to the other. I was all liquid and needy, he was all hard and ready. I think all we were waiting for was the other to give a solid green light. I was naked and sprawled all over him, and I didn’t know how much more welcoming I could be when he suddenly used the edge of one of his knuckles and guided it across my collarbone and down the center of my chest. It made my heart skip a beat and both of my nipples pucker into painful points of readiness, knowing they were undoubtedly his destination.

I exhaled his name, curled my fingers tighter into his hair, and prepared myself for what was going to come next. His mouth on me . . . anywhere on me . . . yes, please. Only all the excitement, all the arousal and pulsating need that was throbbing between my legs and in my blood, went still, froze when I heard my phone go off from somewhere in the midst of the pile of torn and bloody clothes I had left on the floor. Race was good, really good, and I was turned on, more so than I think I had ever been in my life, but the ring tone was the one I had assigned specifically to Karsen, and it struck me in a blinding rush that I should’ve been home hours ago. I hadn’t told anyone what was going on or where I was. A call this late from her when she had school the next morning couldn’t mean anything good.

I scrambled up off Race’s rock-hard form so fast his head actually thunked back against the wall with an echoing sound. I pawed through the pile of clothes until I found my cell and sprang to my feet. I pulled on the long-abandoned T-shirt resting on the sink and wandered out of the tiny bathroom.

“Karsen?”

“Brysen, will you be home soon?” My sister’s voice was shaky and unsure. I wanted to kick myself. I looked over my shoulder as Race followed me out into the minuscule living space.

“I will. Something came up after work and I just lost track of time. I’ll be there in twenty. Why are you still up?”

I heard her sigh and then sniffle like she was crying and I swore at myself silently.

“Mom came out of her room a little while ago and got mad at Dad for something. He shut the door to the office and she went into the kitchen and started throwing things all around. She was screaming and yelling that no one in this family appreciates her and that she could just disappear and we would never notice. She broke all the dishes. I went in to tell her I would clean it up and she screamed at me that I was a worthless pain in the ass.”

Now I swore out loud and tugged hard enough on my hair that it hurt.

“Just go to your room and stay there. Ignore her, Karsen. She’s just in one of her moods.” I was sure it was fueled by vodka or something else, but that was still no excuse. My little sister didn’t deserve to be the target of that kind of unjustified anger.

I heard her whimper a little and then take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to rush home to deal with this.”

I just shook my head. There was no one else who could do it. I tried my best to keep the house dry, to keep what was basically a loaded weapon out of my mother’s hands, but every time I turned around it was like I was being circumvented and another bottle of vodka appeared. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

I ended the call and turned to find Race watching me with curious eyes. All the dark and lusty black had retreated back into the color of fresh pine and there was no running from the probing quality of his gaze. I took the sweatpants he held out to me, even though Dovie was way shorter than me. I needed to cover up the damage to my skin as much as possible. I didn’t need to give Karsen any more reason to freak out for the night.

“I need to get home.”