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“You’re fucking mine,” he grinds out and the sound fills the room.
“I am,” I agree with a breathy satisfied moan, and my inner walls clench tightly around him.
We come together, and the world shatters at our feet.
Chapter 10
Tate
“Time to get up,” I tell Molly.
That’s all I have to say. My throat is dry, my voice is hoarse, and I don’t want to leave this bed. But we have to. I’m not sure how much longer I can look at Molly without going hard as slate all over again. We don’t have time for round three right now, which can quickly turn into round four after the evening we’ve had. What I need to do is put my clothes back on, get my head back in the game and make sure I have my shit together before we leave this room.
Clearing my throat, I pry my fingers from her hips and stand up. With a little fumbling, I manage to pull my jeans on, then I gather up Molly’s things and lay it on the side of the bed.
“You have somewhere to be tonight.”
“Yes. I need a quick shower,” she says, sitting up.
“You good?” I ask without making eye contact.
“I am. You’re all sorts of intense right now, Tate.”
“That’s on you.”
She sighs. “You’re the one who made me say…it.”
“I’ll wait downstairs,” I tell her and head out the door in a hurry, even though she’s right.
Fuck. My riding has taken a hit tonight. I use the oncoming lane to speed past a tractor-trailer. I’ve done this countless times before on the same stretch of highway. It’s second nature. But not today. I swerve too hard into the right lane to avoid an approaching car and almost wipe out. Molly’s arms tighten around my waist, the reminder that I have someone else to worry about, not just myself.
I just hope she won’t raise what happened. Ever. This isn’t the first day I’ve wanted to claim her. I’ve gotten close before, never this far. And what’s worse is the way her coerced admission tightened up my chest and squeezed all the air out of my lungs.
The devil made me do it.
Yeah, I guess that can work if I’m ever cornered.
I was acting on instinct.
But that won’t stop what’s going on in my chest, the proof that I want more, even though people like me aren’t meant to go down this road.
God, the universe, multi-generational karma, bad luck, whatever people want to call it, didn’t think I deserved to be raised with love like a normal kid. I barely remember my mother before she died. I don’t even have a picture of her face. That sort of shit fucks with a person’s head. After she passed, I didn’t get sloppy seconds with the foster family that the state put me to live with. Or the next foster home. Or the next. So how am I supposed to do a one-eighty and believe love belongs in my life when it was never there?
But keeping Molly distracted with freaky sex won’t work forever.
My guess is she’ll eventually figure it out and bail fast.
Hopefully before my gut falls in line with my brain. If that happens, it’s only a matter of time before I run in the other fucking direction, as far away from these complicated feelings as possible.
I make it to North Las Vegas off-ramp to her job before long. Slowing down, I grip the handlebars and steer off the highway. I park behind the converted warehouse soon afterward, and Molly climbs off and heads toward the entrance. If I can calm the fuck down, the simple plan to get the fuck away and fast wouldn’t be the only thought on my mind. Shoving my keys into my front pocket, I follow her inside. This is still a paid gig. Her safety is my responsibility.
The woman I can’t get enough of isn’t getting messed with on my watch.
“You think we’ll have a problem with Jett in there?” Molly asks as we wait to be let in the employee entrance. She trails her fingers down my leather cut near the middle of my back.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I answer. Then I blurt out, “I know you think you’re tough as nails, but I’m surprised you choose to work here with all that education under your belt.”
“You want to go there? I can still kick your ass.” She raises her fists and gets into a boxing stance. “Bring it.”
