Crash into You (Pushing the Limits #3)(82)

“We will be.” I break a cardinal rule and dream of the future. Rachel is a future kind of girl, and I’m going to have to work hard to give her a world worth living in. “With this certification and internship, I’ll have the best jobs. I can’t give you the world, Rachel, but I’ll give you all I got.”

Her soft lips kiss my jaw and my body temperature spikes. Holding on to Rachel is like holding on to a flame. It’s a soothing burn and an addictive burn. Her kiss is pure fire.

“Being with you is enough.” She adjusts so that she can look at me, and I love how the spark has returned to her eyes. “We could open our own shop.”

I curl her silky hair around my finger and tug lightly. “You and me alone in the garage with you bent over the hood of a powerful engine. I think I can handle that.”

She blushes at my words, but keeps the banter alive. “We’ll only take fast cars or clients who want faster cars. The faster the better.”

I like how she thinks. “If you’re touching cars in our shop, then you’ll have to get your certification.”

“Will you tutor me?”

I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist. Cradling her face in my hands, I brush my lips against hers. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

She rests her forehead on mine. My hand stays against her cheek, and my thumb glides over her soft skin. Rachel’s chest moves faster, almost matching my pace. Energy rushes into my veins and the heat between us teeters on the edge of flames.

“My brothers are going to try to keep us apart,” she whispers, then presses her mouth against my bottom lip. My grip on her waist tightens in response. “What are we going to do?”

I don’t know, but the way she curls in my arms makes me feel like I’m the hero. I like being her hero. I like the way her eyes shine at me, the way her body melts when I touch her, her soft lips on mine. I love her warmth and every curve.

I love her.

My fingers draw up her back and tangle into her hair. “They’ll never separate us.”

“Never,” she repeats.

Our lips crush together, our bodies pressed tight. An inferno of lips and hands and movements that continues to grow in heat. The blanket falls away as Rachel slides her legs so that she straddles me. On the verge of burning up completely, I groan and cling to her small frame. Her hands drift under my shirt, leaving a singeing trail.

We’ve become a wildfire. Almost unstoppable. I kiss her neck and the beautiful sounds escaping her mouth encourage me further. My hands skim under her shirt, up her back, linger for seconds near her bra, and I gently nip her ear when I feel lace.

Images pour into my mind of what she’d look like with her shirt off, then her jeans. My fist traps strands of her hair. “I want you, Rachel.”

And because I do, I kiss her fully on the mouth—nothing left to the imagination. Every fantasy becomes a reality with that one embrace. Then, summoning more willpower than I possess, I end the kiss, cupping her head to my chest.

We both breathe hard. Blood pulses in my temples, throughout my entire body. Need screams for me to bring her back into my arms. But I love Rachel, and the physical between us has to go slow.

“Can we stay here?” Rachel asks. “For a little longer?”

We can stay here for life. “Yes.”

Chapter 52

Rachel

MY BROTHERS FOLLOW ME TO class. Every class. I ditch one brother when class starts and pick up another when class ends. I tried losing them at lunch by seeking refuge in the library, but one or both still trailed behind me. I’m furious with my unwanted bodyguards.

The bell rings. The collective sigh of it’s-Friday relief from the English class visiting the library is tangible. Books snap shut and zippers on backpacks close into place. I shelve the remaining books, grab my stuff and head into the hallway. My skin feels as if it’s going to peel off my bones. I haven’t seen Isaiah since Saturday and I miss him—desperately.

Against the wall of lockers, Ethan waits with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress khakis. “You’ve never gone this long without talking to me.”

For the first time in a week, Ethan and I look at each other without glaring. I attempt to ignore the hurt swimming in his dark eyes, but I can’t. Ethan is my twin—my best friend. “You started this.”

“Tell me you aren’t seeing the punk and it’ll end.”

My grip tightens on my pack. “He is not a punk.”

“West and I are trying to protect you. That’s all.” Ethan reaches out as if he’s going to take my hand, a reaction to his hurt and mine. A comforting touch we’ve shared since toddlerhood. “We saw the picture. Tattoos. Earrings. The guy looks like a damn serial killer.”

“He’s not.”

Ethan’s arm falls to his side. My hand twitches, not used to feeling empty.

I step toward him, pleading. “I know he looks tough, but he’s an amazing guy on the inside. If you and West would try to get to know him...”

“Then bring him home to meet Mom and Dad. To meet us.”

“I can’t.” I shift from my left to right foot. “Not yet.”

Because if Mom and Dad discover I’m dating Isaiah they’ll become grime caked on an axle, and I’ll never be allowed out of the house. Isaiah and I agreed that we need to pay off Eric before we drop the dating bomb on my parents.