Page 30 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

He tried to turn, but stopped and looked between us. My fingers were digging into his shirt, keeping him close. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched from the faint creases by his eyes to the tense posture he held.

“Why are you bein’ nice to me? Why give me your card, and take me out, and—”

His hand reached up to cup my cheek, then swept back to my ear, fastening a few locks behind it before tipping my chin up to meet his gaze.

“I didn’t know how to handle you comin’ back, but now, I do.

” His lips ghosted over mine as if he was holding back.

When he pulled away, his fingers slipped back into mine, then he was tugging me past the front door.

The world seemed to spin as we walked to a side of the house I hadn’t seen yet.

His voice funneled through the ringing in my ears like smooth water on a clear day.

“Stay put.” He ran around the large garage, and moments later, the doors opened.

With his arms stretched wide, his lips spread from ear-to-ear. “Now, I know you remember this .”

“I…” I flushed a deep red color, making the green of my dress turn me into Christmas morning.

He tapped the hood of the older Ford pickup. “Glad I didn’t leave the garage open, or you’d’ve probably destroyed this one. Can’t have you going and ruinin’ the more precious things.”

“Your dad’s truck,” I said with feigned indifference, like that was the extent of what it was, though we both knew it wasn’t just his dad’s truck. But the alternative to knowing why he’d kept it for so long was making me see double.

“Yeah.” His grin faltered, and any self-proclaimed embodiment of Christmas I’d had crashed to the ground.

“We goin’ to get this over with, then?” I started walking to the passenger door, turning my chin away from him as I tried to pass by.

Key word: tried.

He gripped my wrist and yanked me to him, then quickly wrapped his other hand around my throat. “Remember to be good, Ly. You’re supposed to be my loving wife.” His growl rumbled through my chest.

I pursed my lips. “Or, what?” My back pressed roughly against the hood of the truck, and the hold he had on my wrist shifted to cup my pussy. I sealed my lips together, trying to hide the way his touch heightened every single one of my senses, pleasure already firing-up between my legs.

“I’ll take you back home and treat you like the bad girl you really are. Is that what you want?” His thumb pressed through my lace thong, massaging my clit with delicious precision.

“You’re going to do it, anyway.” My words should have been vicious, but came out on a moan.

Car’s rough hands scraped against my throat as he yanked me closer, his voice raspy as he said, “Or I could fuck you in the truck like the first time.” My breath hitched, and he chuckled. “Ly, Ly, Ly.” He reared back. “I knew you remembered.”

He released me and stepped back, leaving my shaky legs to fend for themselves.

“I’m not getting in—” My words hung in the air as he flung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes—or, like Santa’s sack of presents because my skin had turned beet red all over again as if my body wanted to be his personal form of Christmas.

The passenger door flew open, and he smacked my ass before setting me on the seat.

“Rude.” I immediately flipped the visor down and adjusted my hair, ignoring the brute laughter of the man who soaked my panties with every single move he made. And the last time I sat in this truck under those conditions was a night I’d never be able to forget, not even if I tried.

TEN YEARS AGO

It had been silent in the truck after Carver asked me to prom.

Not awkwardly, but…I could see him doing that thing where his focus intensified and his whole body went tense.

He was thinking about something, so I let myself think about how I was going to afford a dress nice enough to go to prom with him.

When we met, I wasn’t completely oblivious to where he stood on the high school social hierarchy.

I didn’t remember his name, but I knew he was someone relatively important.

Seeing him at a party—the ease he had around people like everyone would accept him no matter what he did—showed me how vastly different we were.

The only time I gave a damn about being different from him in that aspect was when Noah mentioned going to prom. I’d never considered being asked, let alone going with one of the most popular guys in school.

My palms grew sweaty as I stared out the window. When my foot started tapping, Car slid his hand over my thigh, stilling me. Calming me, like his breathing had done for him.

“You okay? Is the weed bothering you?”

“No, actually. I—” My eyes fell to his pocket. “Do you have more of that?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I think I kind of liked it.” I squeezed my hands into fists, trying to expel the jittery sensations. “A lot, actually. It made me feel…good.”

“I get that.” Carver chuckled. “I’m the same way. Didn’t know how bad my nerves were until I started smoking.”

“When was that?”

“Let’s see…” His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “Three years ago? It was around the time I met Jared. We kind of got into it together.”

A giggle escaped as I pictured Jared’s knowing grin when we left. “I can picture that.”

Car squeezed my thigh. “I like that you and him got along so easily right off the bat.”

“We barely talked,” I said pointedly.

“No, but you were in our circle. It’s more of a feeling than anything at that point.”

I nodded as understanding washed over me. “Yeah, I actually kind of get that. I felt comfortable there. I didn’t really want to leave until Noah showed up.”

“I was ready to leave when I saw you in that dress.”

My cheeks warmed. “That was before the party.”

“I just prefer to have you all to myself sometimes.”

“Most times, it seems.”

He smirked. “Is that a problem?”

“No.” I played with the tips of his fingers, lifting them one by one as his thumb rubbed circles on my skin. “Do you have to take me home now?”

His smirk widened into a grin. “No. Do you have somewhere in mind?” I shook my head. “Do you want to smoke a little more wherever I take you?”

I didn’t have to think more about that. He chuckled as I nodded my head a little too eagerly.

“The stuff I have right now is kind of heady, but if we stop at my house—”

“No, what you had was fine.” I didn’t know what that meant, but I didn’t really care. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t care what it is.” Something about that statement, the honesty in my words, shifted the mood in the truck.

“You’re my comfort too, Ly.”

Warm fuzzies bloomed in my chest as he pulled off the road and drove through a wooded trail marked for private property.

He parked the truck once the entrance was no longer visible, then slid his hand from my thigh and shifted in his seat, pulling out the bag from his pocket.

He pinched the top of it, flicking it with his middle finger, then tipped his chin toward the glove box.

“Open that up, there’s a small pipe in there.”

I did as he said and passed him the small glass piece. “Are they all like that?”

“This?” He angled the blue pipe around in his hand as I nodded. “No. There are a lot of different ways to smoke. Some people get really into that aspect, but I personally like the biological and chemical components.”

My ears perked up. “What biological and chemical components?”

“The cannabinoids, the different hybrids and how they can be utilized to treat different medical problems. I was thinking of growing a few plants, but the conditions of the soil around here aren’t the best. Something indoor would be ideal…

but I…why’re you lookin’ at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

“So, you’re like me,” I said with what must’ve been a big grin on my face.

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t pin my collection to the walls.”

I jokingly smacked his chest with the back of my hand. “Don’t be mean.”

His eyes dropped, darkening several levels. “I’d never be mean to you, beautiful.” He took a look at the glass on one leg and the weed on his other, then gathered them both up and put it in the pocket on the door.

I glanced around, thinking the cops were coming, having completely forgotten that smoking wasn’t exactly legal.

When my eyes landed back on Carver, he was shifting his seat back.

“What’s wrong?”

He tapped his hands on his legs, his voice almost shaky as he said, “C’mere first.”

“I’m in a dress.”

“I know.” His eyes turned molten at the reminder.

I blushed, then unbuckled my seatbelt and situated myself on top of him, fitting my bent legs on either side of his hips. Before I could talk, his fingers swept into my hair while his other hand settled on my waist.

“Kiss me,” he whispered, pulling my mouth closer to his. “Please.”

My tongue darted between my lips, my heart beating harder than it ever had. His hand along my waist roamed, the sweet caress easing me further into his lap. His nose nudged mine, our lips ebbing like an invisible force existed there, one we’d never come back from. The last barrier.

“Car—”

“Kiss me before I lose my mind, sweetheart.” The fingers in my hair guided me past that divide, and our lips collided. Heat waves coursed through my body as his arm wrapped around me, ridding any space left between us.

His kisses swept away from my lips, moving and gliding along my jawline, then down the sensitive skin beneath my ear. The strap of my dress eased down under his gentle touch, and my breathing instantly kicked up.

He reared back. “Is this okay?” His breaths were ragged, pupils blown as his face creased with concern.

“Yes. Don’t stop.”

His throat bobbed, and this time when our lips met, I ground down on his lap, my body seeking a friction I never knew could be desirable between two people. He moaned against my mouth, my name a desperate plea on his lips as I repeated the action.

Our kisses became sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues swiping, reaching for each other, trying to bring our bodies closer. He guided the other strap from my shoulder and pulled back, the same question in his eyes before— is this okay?

I nodded fervently, and he responded eagerly, palming my breast over the fabric. Every kiss went deeper, every touch meant more, and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“Please, Car.”

His kisses slowed, even as I ground down on him again, that friction now warming my lower belly. My body seemed to hum against his, moving only because he was there to make me move. I wanted him in ways I’d never known, but he seemed to know just fine.

“Hold on.” I tracked his hand as it fell from my breast and moved to his back pocket, then pulled out a square, golden packet.

His eyes darted between mine. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready.” I stared at the packet, his words barely audible as the heat consumed my body. “This was stupid, I shouldn’t have—”

I palmed his cheeks as the realization that he was trying to end what we were doing finally funneled in through my murky thoughts. “No, I—” I swallowed, ignoring the packet and focusing on him. There was only him . “I want to.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He wasted no time in adjusting the bench seat, pushing it as far from the steering wheel as he could. We both laughed as our bodies jerked with the movement, but as his eyes settled back on me, all the laughter in the truck left.

Carver lifted the packet between us. “Do you want to help me?”

I nodded again, because apparently all words were really difficult to form when you wanted to have sex.

I lifted from his lap, allowing him to undo his jeans and shimmy them down his hips. His hand wrapped around himself, giving it a firm stroke. I tried not to act like what I saw was new, or impressive—I didn’t want him to know exactly how little I knew.

He fit the packet between his teeth and ripped it open with a single pull. “Here.” Our hands came together, and he guided me in fitting the condom over the top, then rolling down his length. He groaned as we reached the end.

I went to move, not knowing what to do next, but he put his hand over my panties. I blushed as he said, “I’m going to move this to the side, sweetheart. Don’t be shy. There’s not a single part of you I don’t find gorgeous.”

I nodded, allowing his fingers to glide over the fabric of my panties before inching them over. I put both hands on his shoulders as I guided my hips over him.

“Is this your first time?” he asked.

“No,” I lied, and he paused for a moment before nodding, just like he’d done at the party. “Yours?”

Another pause, then he shook his head.

“You’re really special to me, you know that, right?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Yes. I know.”

His hands went to my waist. “Kiss me, Ly. I want your lips on mine when we do this.”

I complied, dipping my face down at the same time my hips lowered. He nudged my entrance, and I could feel his hand come between us again, feeling my center and adjusting his placement to meet it.

The moment our lips met, I sank down completely, feeling an immediate surge of pain at the way he was stretching me.

A whimpering sound came from my throat, one of obvious pain. Car noticed immediately. “Shit, are you okay?” I nodded and forced my lips back to his, letting our kisses take over my senses while hoping he’d ignore the rest.

Strange warmth spread along my thighs, then more. I let a hand dip between us as Car started kissing down my neck, palming my breast. When I raised my hand to see what the warmth was, fear hit me, and I froze.

Car stopped kissing me. “Ly, what—” His eyes fell to my hand, and he sighed. “You lied again, sweetheart.”

“I don’t—”

“It’s okay. I did, too.” He took my hand in his, not caring at all that his hand was now streaked with my blood, possibly just as much as his thighs were.

“You lied?”

He chuckled, then pulled my dress down further, capturing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Turns out”—I moaned and his other hand tightened around mine—“we’re both virgins. Or, were.”