Page 24 of Second Chance

13

Between Cars

[Mati]

Cars can park in the angled spots along Main Street, but on a night like tonight, everywhere is full. So, I’m parked in the public parking lot, a gravel strip across the alley behind the pub. It’s the location where we might have to host the Oktoberfest, but I’m not thinking of the event as I power walk around the side of the pub and cross the alley. I’m steaming with reckless energy from seeing Kristy and Denton together.

Why was he touching her?

Is he happy to see her?

Will he sleep with her?

A rush of emotion fills my being and my body thrums with irritation. It’s all reminiscent of the first time I saw them together together. The image was scarring at best and heartbreaking at worst. I walked up on them at a field party. Denton’s ass exposed to the air, his dick disappearing inside her. One of her legs over his hip, her skirt hiked up to her waist. Her breath hitched as he pounded into her, her back against the side of a pickup truck. She struggled to say his name in her false cries of passion. Fake because I can’t imagine anyone ever muttering in a high-pitched squeal like her. Rutting pigs came to mind. I hoped it hurt his ears at the time.

I can be childish.

The image instantly returns, and I curse the memory. We fought about who knows what that night, and then he disappeared. I went in search of him because I was either still fuming or wanting to apologize. I can’t remember the circumstances other than what I saw. Everything else was obliterated from my brain.

I wished I was her. The thought sneaks in like the hiss of a snake. A devil angel on one shoulder reminding me I was jealous. Jealous he’d been with her. Jealous she was with him. Jealous they were having sex. Chris and I hadn’t yet, and we wouldn’t until after Denton left. I remained a virgin until after high school, unlike most of my friends. However, it wasn’t long after graduation when the deed happened.

I don’t want to think about that. I’m still riled from what I saw inside the pub. So riled, I hardly hear the crunch of gravel behind me before a hand grips above my elbow. I turn, right hook aiming for a body when it’s stopped by a quicker hand.

“Settle down, lion cat.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snap. Denton’s mouth curls at my sharp retort and it fuels my anger. I struggle against the hold he has on my elbow and my fist. Instantly, my back hits a pickup truck and Denton’s body hovers over mine, holding me in place.

“Easy,” he whispers while I huff and puff into his chest, my own rising and falling and scraping over his abs. He’s hard, rock hard in the midsection and I immediately wonder if he has a six-pack. The thought that he might makes me want to punch him again. Goddamn him for looking so good, smelling so good—sharp and manly—and feeling so good against me.

His hand releases my fist and lifts for my cheek. My head tips up and I swallow.

Will he kiss me?

Of course, he won’t kiss me.

It would be silly of him to kiss me.

Do I want him to kiss me?

His thumb rubs over my lower lip and I part them, my tongue sweeping out to brush against the salty pad at the end of his fingertip.

I want him to kiss me.

“Mati,” he whispers, his warm breath fanning down on me in the cool evening air. His nose lowers, the tip tickling over mine before he skims it to the edge of my mouth. I still, holding my breath, while my heart races within my chest.

“What’s got you so worked up?” The twitch in his mouth whispers near the corner of mine. He’s close but not where I want him to be. He’s also teasing me. He knows why I’m upset, and I realize I have no right to be. Denton Chance isn’t mine and never was. He was hers.

I don’t respond to his question, willing my blood to settle.

“Don’t be jealous.” He smirks, and the curl of his mouth tickles mine. A shivering sensation ripples down over my skin, slinking over my body and straight to one part thumping faster than my heart.

“I’m not jealous,” I say, but I don’t recognize my own voice. Hoarse, scratchy, throaty. I’m so turned on by his nose stroking over my cheek and the tip of his lips nudging close but not quite to the edge of mine.

“Good. You shouldn’t be.” His fingers have left my face and slide down my neck, curling around the side. His thumb swipes up and down my throat and I feel the power in his hands.

Kiss me, my brain screams. I want to be the girl he pinned to the side of a pickup truck, wretched up, and slammed into. The heat between my thighs increases and dampness pools. He’d have no trouble entering me. I’m primed and ready. My eyes close with the thought.

“How long’s it been, lion cat?” The question whispers over my lips and I swallow, knowing it’s been too long since I’ve been kissed.