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Her feet slowed, her eyes searching mine for a fissure, a flaw, without luck.
Because this the only way to win Jo. So for once, I gave the absolute truth.
“I’m not staying,” I said again, “which works for you, doesn’t it? Easy to avoid your curse if you know from the start I’m temporary, right? But I wonder how much more magic you have to give. I wonder if you find magic in me.”
She couldn’t seem to find words, which was its own oddity.
Another long tear of thunder rattled the building, bringing our eyes up as if we could see through the roof. Before it ended, the room went dark, the music cutting to silence. All that was left were murmurs and instructions called in the distance. I heard nothing but her shallow breath.
I found her face in the dark, cupped her jaw, lifted it. “Tell me you want me,” I whispered against her lips. “Tell me—”
I was silenced by her lips, her soft, sweet lips against mine in the dark. The absolute darkness, a void with us in the center. With my fingertips in her silky hair and the scent of lilacs on her skin. With my heart hammering my sternum and her body against mine. I breathed her like I’d never breathed before, like I’d been starved until here, until now, until her.
A noisy inhale brought us flush, my arms squeezing her hard enough to nearly lift her off the ground. How was I supposed to let her go?
Why couldn’t I fathom it?
What had she done to me?
It was that magic, the make-believe. The fantasy I’d found my way into by sheer luck. The deep and quiet idea that I somehow belonged here after a lifetime of belonging nowhere, to no one.
And though it was as outrageous as me ever being a cowboy, I decided not to shatter the illusion.
Instead, I leaned in.
She broke the kiss, panting in the dark, her hands on my chest and her forehead against my lips.
“Come with me,” I whispered.
She hesitated.
“Don’t overthink it, Jo. Come with me.”
She drew a breath, then another while I held mine.
And then her hand slipped into mine before she said, “Try to keep up.”
By the time the lights came back on, we were already gone.
15
No Way
JO
We ran through the rain for his car hand in hand, and there was only one thought in my head.
Don’t overthink it.
This thought played in a loop like a prayer. This was a stupid, terrible, dumb idea. And I didn’t care.
Grant might be a liar, but my bullshit-o-meter was well-tuned and well-practiced. I knew an honest answer when I heard it. And I knew an honest kiss even better.
No way could he have faked that.
I laughed, running for the passenger door, soaked through. My dress clung to every curve, so wet it was transparent in crucial places. And I didn’t care about that either.
We ducked into the car, closed the doors, and launched ourselves across the console in search of each other’s lips. I tossed his hat in the back window so it was out of my way, our mouths a seam, our tongues a tangle, our hands roaming.
I’d just pulled his shirt out of its tuck and was about to deep dive into his pants when he caught my wrist and broke the kiss.
“I can’t fuck you like I want in this car.”
I whimpered. He kissed me again, a kiss deep enough that I was reaching for his belt again.
He laughed into my mouth. “Sit,” he said, starting the car with a rumble and roar that I felt all the way to my uterus.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, wide-eyed and smiling.
Grant smirked at me. “Not making fun of the car now, are you?”
I bit my lip and shook my head, buckling up like I’d been told.
And we took off in the rain toward his house.
I panted in my seat, partly from the run, partly from the kissing, partly because the vibrations of the car from the outrageous engine might grant me my first of what I hoped would be many orgasms of the night.
“Jesus Christ, Jo,” he said in a tone I’d almost call tortured.
“What?” I asked, turning to him.
And goddamn if I didn’t almost come just from the look on his face.
He was going to devour me. And I’d die happy.
His eyes shifted back to the road, and he sped up a little, but his closest hand reached for me. First for my face, his fingertips on my jaw. Then down my neck, my sternum, to fondle my breast, his thumb circling my nipple, visible through the thin fabric of my dress. Down my stomach and to my core, that wicked thumb stroking me where I needed him. I spread my thighs, my lids heavy as he flipped my skirt up so he could touch my flesh, groaning deep in his throat when he found me pantiless.
