Beautiful Broken Rules (Broken, Series #1)(64)

With his intoxicating voice at a low tone he asked, “You reckless, frustratingly beautiful girl, why are you out here all alone? Don’t you know it’s not safe to be on this street alone with all these drunken, idiotic frat *s?”

“I was hiding,” I admitted meekly.

“Why have you been torturing me by making me think that you were sleeping with all those guys?” He pointed back to the house.

“Because I wanted to sleep with all those guys.” I watched him wince, and knew I needed to clarify. “I mean I wanted to WANT to sleep with them. I don’t like Emerson; she’s too confusing and complicated. I just wanted to be Em again. But every time I went upstairs with one them, I always chickened out,” I said the last part barely above a whisper.

I felt his hands flex on my thighs. I imagined what it felt like for those hands to lift me up as he always does. How it felt to wrap my legs around his waist. I scooted forward even closer to him so he would be further between my thighs. He brought his face down to the side of mine and with his nose he moved my hair to the side so he could bury it in my neck. I panted at his proximity. Once again, a month and a half had been a long time for me.

On a groan he said, “You’re driving me f*cking insane. The only reason I can stand coming to every single one of these parties is because some crazy-ass masochistic side of me needs to know when you come out of those bedrooms that you’re still okay. But every time I watch you walk up those stairs with some new douchebag, I beg Cole to stop me from going up there, pounding that guy into the ground and throwing you over my shoulder because I know you would be pissed at me,” he exhaled on a long breath. “Emerson, tell me what you want.” Each word was said in a short, clipped tone.

I clutched the waistband of his jeans as tightly as I could manage and spoke directly to his chest. “I don’t know how.” I turned my head up to run my lips across the edge of his jaw. He seemed to be unconsciously squeezing my thighs now, am I’m sure I’ll have bruises there tomorrow. I’ll welcome them if it means I can be with him tonight.

“Tell me that you want me,” he whispered.

“I want you.” Always.

“Only me?”

“Only you.” Had there ever been anyone else?

He shuffled around, feeling at his pockets. When he found what he wanted, he reached in and pulled out a pen. The second I saw it, I knew what he wanted, so I stretched out my hand toward him with my palm facing up. He grinned at my forwardness and grabbed my wrist so he could turn it. I closed my eyes and let the tickle of the ballpoint consume me. At this point, I didn’t care what he wrote as long as he continued stroking it across my skin. He finished quickly, closed my fingers into my palm, and kissed them. I slowly uncurled them to read his message, which was written boldly across the expanse of my palm. One word that screamed a whole lot more.

Mine

I lifted my eyes up to his and nodded. Quickly, he slid his hands underneath me and lifted me up around his waist. He slammed the tailgate shut and walked around to the driver’s side. I don’t know who leaned in first, but our lips were crushed together and I felt safe again in his arms. Safe from myself.

“Do you have the keys?” I asked through his lips.

“No, I don’t need them.” I watched as he pressed a series of numbers on the keyless entry system just above the door handle. I was confused how we would drive home without keys, but at this moment I couldn’t find a reason to care either.

He didn’t open the front door, instead opened the door to the backseat and slid inside with me still in one arm. He closed the door behind us and the heavily tinted windows, along with the night sky, provided us with complete privacy.