Page 35 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

“ S top touching me.” Through a clenched jaw, my words seethe out. “Stop. Goddamn. Touching. Me.”

My stepbrother just keeps on being an unmitigated headache in my life, and I was all of two minutes from disappearing down the mountain. Ready to leave Devil’s Peak and be rid of this place.

I should have gone earlier today. This morning would have been the time to leave if I’d been in my right mind.

I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did.

Now... this is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

One of my fists is locked tight on the front of Kayce’s hoodie, the fabric partially sodden from how hard it’s raining.

The other has him gripped by the collar, the fold of worn cotton on the side of his hood.

And as I glare down at him, I realize we’re in almost exactly the same position as last night.

This time, however, there’s something intensely different hanging between us. Last night felt as if I still had a tenuous thread of my control left. I gave him what he was searching for; I took charge in the way he needed me to.

In the here and now, with Kayce shoved against a wooden railing, his cheeks flushed, I’m entirely out of bounds .

“You should have left me the fuck alone today.” I bite out, and his stupidly blue eyes grow wider.

His throat dips, and words drop as a whisper. A confession flying over shivering, wet lips into the mountain air. “I can’t.”

My grip tightens on the fabric, and I let out a groan of frustration.

“Fuck this. Fuck you, Kayce.” I’ve been crawling out of my skin since last night.

The way he touched me, so hesitant and uncertain, felt like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and I damn well hate that it’s him.

Because none of this makes sense. This is monumentally fucked up, and surely I should be pushing him away.

I’m supposed to be halfway back to Crimson Ridge, and yet I can’t seem to unclench my fingers from his fucking hoodie.

His little noise, the flutter of a gasp that comes out when he feels our bodies press harder together.

.. when my weight pins him against the railing at his back, it does something to my brain.

I’m dumped upside down into a place where I can’t seem to focus on anything but his pouty lips and desperate looks.

“I’m sorry...” He gives me that expression. The wide-eyed stare of someone who has absolutely no idea how to navigate any of this and goddamn begs me with those bright blues of his.

“You should be staying the fuck away from me.” A dark noise vibrates from somewhere deep in my chest, and I lose it. I finally lose any sense of control.

I dive against his lips.

Keeping my hold twisted in the front of his top, I angle our mouths together, and it’s the sort of kiss that goes from zero to a hundred the instant we connect.

Kayce makes a sobbing little moan straight into my mouth, and that noise—that intoxicating sound, like a purr of relief—twists me and drives me to go harder, deeper, and goddamn own him.

I’m demanding entrance, pressing my tongue against his.

.. and he’s so fucking soft. That pillowy bottom lip fits perfectly beneath my teeth as I pull back and nip at his flesh, before sinking forward again.

My fingers leave the side of his collar and slide up to hold his jaw.

Securing him in place so I can command him and drink down all those tiny noises he keeps making.

It’s like he can’t stop them from bubbling up one after the other.

I’m certain he’s never been kissed properly before now, and each slide of my tongue owning his mouth, my stubble rasping against his skin, it sounds like it’s too much for him to comprehend.

He tastes like the faintest hint of coffee, something sugary sweet, and the freshness of rainwater coating his lips and corners of his mouth.

I’ve officially lost my entire mind.

I can’t stop kissing him.

His whimpers are addictive. Something deep inside my awareness is already on high alert, trying to warn me that this is a terrible idea to let myself continue what we’re doing.

But he damn well started it. He begged me to cross a line with him, and now all I can think is that I need to see him fall apart for me again.

Last night wasn’t enough to satisfy the part of me that enjoyed his shaking, blushing innocence.

“We should probably stop,” I growl against his lips as our mouths keep moving. I realize at that moment, when I pause long enough to speak, that Kayce is kissing me back.

Moving his mouth hesitantly, he chases after me with all the timidness that mirrors the way he chased after me just now.

“We should...” Kiss . “Probably...” Lick . “Oh, god...” He can’t finish that statement. Instead, Kayce straight-up moans for me when I squeeze a little tighter, collaring him just below his jaw. Beneath my fingers, his pulse is absolutely hammering in the side of his throat.

That noise... that fucking noise. He has no idea what it does to me.

Both of us are damn near soaked, water droplets running off the strands of Kayce’s hair and down the bridge of my nose.

The way we’re kissing is kind of messy and sloppy anyway, with how fiercely I’m sucking on his tongue and trying to drag more of those pathetic little noises from him.

Now mixed with the rain, our mouths are even more slippery, roaming freely, slanted over one another.

My dick is a steel bar in my jeans. Every inch of Kayce juts against me, hard as stone through the front of his sweats.

Jesus, I couldn’t stop picturing his cock last night.

About how good we looked together. No matter how hard I tried to shove it from my mind, I couldn’t deny that it might have been insanity to let things get that far, but goddamn, if it didn’t feel so fucking incredible.

I tug him toward me, and he comes easily. Kayce is almost boneless underneath my hold. He’s gone from being the feisty, smart-mouthed rodeo star to a pliant little thing, following my every command without question.

Something I find myself liking far too much.

Goddamn it.

Walking him backward, while pinching his bottom lip between my teeth, he hangs onto my forearms in an effort to keep himself upright.

But it’s a shaky hold at best. Last night, he only touched me when I told him what to do and how to do it.

Right now, it’s as if he still doesn’t know where to put his hands.

All he seems to be able to do is white-knuckle the fabric of my jacket.

As we reach my truck, I let him slump against the side—releasing my grip just long enough to yank the door open—before swiping my bag into the footwell and shoving him by the chest so that he tumbles onto the bench seat.

He falls on his back, elbows propping his weight up to stare at me where I stand, filling the doorway. Everything about this is wrong, so immensely wrong, and under no circumstances can it be happening, but I can’t deny that something too powerful to ignore is drawing us together over and over.

Maybe we’ll both regret this tomorrow. Maybe we’re making the most reckless decision possible, but I’m too far gone, entirely swallowed up by this, and unable to put a stop to it now.

Kayce’s mouth hangs open, lips swollen and reddened from my stubble and the force of how hard I took his mouth. Has he ever kissed a guy before? From the stars in his eyes and out of his head expression—sheer surprise and something like awe written across his features—I’m not so sure.

With one hand, I cup his erection through his sweats and squeeze. Kayce’s face contorts with pleasure, and his palms slap against the seat.

“ Umphhhfff... ffffuckk... ohmygod. ” He lets out the sluttiest whimper. Head dropping back to expose the line of his throat. Pleading flashes in his eyes as he hits me with a hooded gaze, and the length of him throbs beneath my hold.

“All shy now, hmm ?” I scold him. “Haven’t got anything to say for yourself?”

Kayce’s hips lift, chasing the weight of my hand rubbing him through the fabric.

“ Please .” His eyes fight to stay open when I curl my fingers and push between his thighs to part them.

Trembles roll through his limbs as he stays there, laid out for me.

Those perfect cheekbones are dusted pink, and he’s so goddamn pretty like this.

As I cup his cock trapped beneath his briefs, I keep massaging and explore lower with my fingers to seek out his balls.

He nearly levitates off the seat, a desperate noise bursting out of him. “Oh my god. Raine. Please . Jesus.” That slope of his throat is so tempting, I want to crawl over him and bite down on it. His Adam’s apple dips and works as he gulps for air.

“You don’t even know what you’re begging for.” Clicking my tongue, I let the weight of my gaze drift over him.

“Y—you,” he stammers. “You make it feel good.”

That draws a chuckle from me at his nervous little routine.

“Writhing in my truck, staring at my dick.” Running my tongue over my lips, I watch the flush on his cheeks deepen a shade.

“Staring at your stepbrother’s dick, like a little slut.

” My words are harsh, taunting, and I feel him kick under my palm in response.

Smug satisfaction has no right to be there glowing so brightly inside my chest, but here we are.

“Is that what you are, snowflake?” I murmur, watching his eyes turn a deeper shade of turquoise as his pupils keep dilating. “A pathetic little thing who wants to be fucked?”

Kayce squirms and sinks his teeth into his abused bottom lip. But it does nothing to hide the pornstar-worthy moan he lets out.

My bag is right there beside my knee, and I rummage around quickly until I find what I need. Those blue eyes grow round as he sees the lube in my hands, like he’s never fucking seen the stuff before, and his gaze flickers between what I’m holding and my eyes .

“You want to be a brat? Or do you want to be a good boy for me?”

His panting intensifies. “I—I want to . . .”