Page 44

I rip the cigarette’s out of his hand. “Your bike’s in the impound.”
He gets in my car, looks at his phone, and I steal it too, and shove it up my dress between my thighs. After I do this, I realize what a stupid move that was.
He smirks. His chest shakes, laughter rolling through his inked body.
“Tell me what that was all about!” I demand, locking my thighs together.
“Do you honestly think I can’t get my phone back?”
Heat licks my face and I can barely keep from panting. “No. I know you can.”
He twists in the seat, muscles flexing, and I try so hard not to look, but I do. Always. His hand grips my knee. “Why do you think I did that?”
I stare at his eyes, wishing he was different and thankful he’s not. “Because you’re jealous?”
His hand moves higher with the thudding of my heart. He bites his lip, his breathing changing, hitching, catching in his throat when he asks, “Do you like him?”
I can’t reply. My throat tightens, but I shake my head.
“Why. . . ?” I pause, swallow, and try to clear my thoughts. “Why do you do. . . ?” I pause, again, unable to get out what I want to say. I give up, my hands on my upper thigh trying to push his hand lower.
He ignores and tightens his grip, but he doesn’t force himself higher. “Then give me what I want.”
I move my hands over his, letting him go further up the inside of my thigh. “You only want my virginity.” His hands at the junction between my thighs, a place only he’s ever touched.
“That’s untrue and you know it.”
I don’t because you’ve never told me.
Holding my breath for a beat, I raise an eyebrow. “What do you want then?”
There’s a sudden possessiveness clouding his eyes, a determination to make me see the truth he tries so hard to mask. “What’s mine.”
“I’m notyours, Tiller.”
I so am.
“Why won’t you be?” His words are sincere, delivered just as he releases a careful breath and stares out the windshield.
I sigh and stare out the windshield too, afraid of what I’m about to say. I’m hardly ever this truthful with him. We seem to always dance around the true meaning behind why we’re the way we are. “Because all you want is to have sex with me.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. There’s some bitterness to the sound, but it’s breathy and makes me want to melt at the sound. “No, I want to fuck you. There’s a difference.”
I slap his shoulder. “Shut up. You know that’s why.”
“Fuck that shit. It’s a goddamn lie.” The amusement’s gone. “If that were true—” He pauses, dauntless and provocative. “I would have been gone a long time ago.” Tiller doesn’t waste his time on anything, yet he does with me. “If I can’t have you, then why do you waste your time with me? You’re constantly calling me, but when I want more, you won’t.”
He’s never been this open with me and for a moment, I’m caught off guard. “You’re my friend.”
His eyes cut to mine, a sideways glance that’s brief. “I’m tired of being your fucking friend.” He turns, facing me again. And before I know it, he grabs my face and his mouth is near mine, inching closer to mine, and then he kisses me. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, eager for more, always. My breath blows out as his breath catches.
When I open my gently parted lips, Tiller groans into my mouth, practically yanking me over the center console, his lips hungry and searching for more. The sound of his soft groan sends a shiver through me. With every move he makes with his hands, his muscles flex and fight for control he doesn’t have.
His cell phone starts ringing, drawing our mouths apart.
In an act of annoyance, Tiller picks it and throws it on the floor of my car, his hands returning to my face. The feel of his hands returning sends a rush of flames through my body, a burning, aching touch.
He stares at me, my heart racing, and I have no idea what he’s thinking, or what he wants from me.