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But this chick’s driving is fucking insane.
I manage to type the address into the GPS before I sit back and clutch the door for dear life.
It takes her minutes, probably seconds, before we arrive at our destination.
She giggles. “Thanks for the car. That was fun,” she says, and the thrill in her voice is intoxicating.
I grumble under my breath as I get out, and I thank God for the steady ground under my feet.
EIGHT
Alaska
“Where are we?”I ask, glancing around.
It’s a warehouse, not one I am familiar with or seen. Zuko gets out and shakes his head as he comes around to the driver’s side and pulls open the door.
Why does that one subtle gesture cause flutters in my stomach. I’ve said this before but there’s something about him.
I’m not really sure how to put my finger on it just yet.
It’s not just that he’s good-looking because anyone with a set of eyes can see that. It’s how he carries himself. It’s that one single glance from him that contains so much more than he can promise, Or maybe he can.
If he ever does promise things, that is.
He stands there, his sunglasses covering his eyes as he stares down at me. I feel his gaze hot and directed at me. He holds his hand outstretched, waiting for me to take it. I clutch the keys tight, unsure if I should or not. He’s patient, though, and doesn’t rush me or push me.
A loud honk makes me jump, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.
“You can stay in the car if you wish,” he finally voices after a few moments when I still haven’t moved.
“Who are you?” I whisper, placing my hand in his. He pulls me out and shuts the door behind me, then cages me against the car, his arms on either side of me. He leans forward, and his breathing tickles my neck as he takes a deep inhale and whispers, “Whoever you need me to be.”
I laugh.
I can’t help it.
Who even says something like that?
He ignores my laugh. For long moments he doesn’t move, and then his lips smash into mine and he kisses me, effectively cutting off anymore thoughts of laughter.
At first, I don’t kiss him back. His body is pressed against mine, and I can feel every inch of him all over me. The outlines of the hardness of his body. The strength ever-present in his lean muscles.Does he even have an inch of fat on him?
I’m jealous.
I know I have a little extra cushioning—this girl right here loves sweets. Brownies, cheesecake, you name it, I love it. And right now, he tastes like my favorite cake.
A big slice I want to devour, so I do.
A single, loud honk comes from somewhere nearby, but neither of us pays it any real attention. My hands reach out and grip the sides of his dress shirt, clinging to it as he presses in closer. And now I can feel a different type of hardness, and it’s pushing on all the right areas.
Fuck me.
How can he do this to me?
Another honk, but this time it’s more persistent. Louder. And it won’t stop.
He swears, his lips still bruising mine, as his tongue, which was devouring mine, pulls back. I notice his lips are a darker shade of pink as his body leaves mine.
