Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)(62)

I had no answers, no justifiable ones at least. I was in love.

I knew the time would come when I would fall in love, but I never thought it would happen like this, with a young girl in such a brutal scenario.

When I thought about what happened to her, it felt wrong to love her.

The shitty part for me was that not only had I never been in love, but I also never knew what I was missing with Ami. I'd never had a girl that made me feel like she did.

The night before we left for San Jose was when I told Ami my feelings.

Before I got back into bed, I removed my T-shirt. Ami watched, her eyes low on my hips. She inhaled a sharp breath. I could see it in her stare, feel it in her touch. She was waiting on empty words to be defined.

I said what I was feeling in that moment.

"I love you," I whispered, situating myself between her knees. I didn't say anything more for a long moment, letting the words sink in. I wondered if Josh had told her he loved her. I wondered what her reaction was. Was it the reaction she was having now, staring at me, giving me a look that told me she felt what I had just said to her?

It was the first time I had said it to a girl that wasn't family and it was natural, like everything else with her. Sure, I felt like there was a wild animal clawing at my heart, and every other piece of my chest, but I said it and she didn't run from me.

My palms were on her stomach, pushing her shirt up. I touched her breasts over her bra. My touch excited her; I could see it in the way her cheeks were glowing and her heavy breaths against my neck and shoulders. My words were what crept deep inside her. I could see it in those bright blues staring back at me and her parted lips, desperate to speak.

My voice, the need to say more, hear more, was trapped in my throat.

Eventually, I said what I needed to say. "Tell me you love me…" I kissed down her arm, bringing her hand to mine, intertwining our fingers together.

"I love you." Her voice was small and unsteady, as if saying it would mean nothing. She wanted to show me. "Show me, Evan. Make it real. Don't say it without making me feel it."

I couldn't meet her eyes, I wanted to, but couldn't out of fear of taking her right then. It was out of my control, so I tried to concentrate on her skin, touching everywhere I could, in hopes that eventually we would be together in the ways we wanted to.

How do I make this real?

When she touched my chest, I shook.

"Please, don't stop, Mase…"

Fuck, she called me Mase again.

I slid her hand away from my chest to press my body flush with hers. She rubbed her palms across my lower back, holding me against her.

My eyes were closed now, my eyebrows scrunched together, my lips swollen and red, matching hers.

I whispered words to her, goose bumps spreading over any place my lips touched. She touched my arm and shoulders, focusing on the way my muscles moved beneath her hands.

I gripped the sheets beside her head, groaning, carefully nibbling on sensitive skin. "I'm so f*cked. You have me so f*cked up." My nose swept from her throat to her jaw bone, hoping she understood what that meant this time.

Her skin felt abnormally warm. It burned to touch and was tempting to kiss. My lips found the spot where her pulse was the strongest. "Your heart is beating so fast," I whispered quietly.

I released the sheets and touched her face, letting her see I was just like her, trembling skin and chattering bones.

When I settled between her legs, we both shifted and began breathing heavier.

"You're my girl," I said, trickling my fingers down her ribs. "You know that, right?"

Her legs were open now, wrapped around me.

"Mase," she whispered, searching my eyes.

"Be still." My self-control was gone.

"Please," she begged again. "I want you."

I put a finger to her lips and whispered, "Not yet, not now. We have time. Let's just take it slow. They'll be time for that later." The one time we had gotten close, Ami was too scared. Ever since then, she kept saying she was ready, but I just couldn't do it.

Although confused, she didn't argue. It'd be so f*cking easy to get carried away. Her body, her words, her starry blues told me she was ready, but I knew she wasn't. And despite how badly I wanted her, I wanted to preserve this a little longer. I played along. Every once in a while I teased, I whispered something obscene into her ear just to see how far I could push. That was just me; I teased and she let me.

I hitched her leg over my waist, giving her open mouthed kisses, and I wanted to push myself against her but didn't. I ached for her so f*cking badly, but I didn't trust myself to move. Instead, I kissed her.

"Please." She tried again, desperately reaching to unbutton my jeans.

I groaned against her lips, stopping her hand. "Don't ask me that right now." My entire body shivered, fighting what was right from wrong. If she asked me one more time, I would do it. I would f*ck her right here, give in and feel the connection we were starved for.

Her lips were warm, full of love, her center pushed into mine, hot and deep. I cried out against her when she wiggled, arching into me. With only our jeans separating us, I pushed against her again. My body reacted to the heat, and I felt my f*cking knees go weak.

Her hands gripped my sides, urging me forward each time I moved. Tipping her head back with my fingers, I kissed her, tasting her love heavy on my tongue.