Page 18

CARSON

She looks kind of terrified, so I make sure the helmet is sitting securely, even checking the buckle. And then I take it slow.

I don’t know how she busted up her leg, but I’m guessing a road accident. She doesn’t want to give me deets. That’s fine. It’s not like I’m shelling out the goods on my shitty family drama.

I’m not sure how the accident happened or who was responsible, but it must have been pretty horrific if she had more than one operation. She’s probably got pins holding her bones together. Was it just her knee or something else?

Damn, I really want to know.

But I won’t push.

This evening has gone way better than I thought it would.

It’s well past midnight by the time we head out of Fledgling, and I take it slow on the corners. She’s gripping me around the waist, her fingers clenched in my jacket, her legs squeezing my thighs like I’m about to spin out at any second.

Maybe it was mean of me to force her into this ride, but I hated the idea of her getting back in an Uber. At least this way, I can ensure her safety.

The wind is cold on my face, my hair flapping as my skin prickles and stings.

I shouldn’t be riding without a helmet. Mom would kill me if she found out.

But I left my spare one at home. I’m gonna have to dig that baby out and make sure it’s always in the back pouch of my bike.

I don’t usually offer other people rides, but I made the exception for her.

I’ve been doing that a lot.

But maybe that’s because she is the exception.

Fuck. Tonight was epic.

Walking along the river. Holding her hand. How can something so simple feel so fucking fantastic? I love the way she talks. I love that she doesn’t want to be a victim or even a survivor. She just wants everyone to treat her like there’s nothing wrong. She’s strong and confident… and irresistible.

Damn, the fact that she could say that to me was fucking cool.

I like this girl.

A lot.

And that doesn’t usually happen to me.

Because you’re either too drunk or too busy fucking them to find out anything about them.

But I can’t go fucking Nylah, so I’m forced to talk to her, to listen… and it’s way more fun than I thought it’d be.

My mind jumps ahead to what will happen when we get back to campus.

She told me she lives in Buckley Hall. I’m pretty sure I know where that is, but I could always get lost on the way there, right?

I don’t want this night to end, but shit…

I can’t keep her out until sunrise, and I can’t hang in her dorm.

If I take her back to my place, the guys will lose it if they see her…

and it’s not like I can hide her away in my room, because if the feel of her thighs squeezing me from behind is anything to go by, there’s no way I don’t want her beneath me, her fingers digging into my ass while I plunge inside her.

Fuck! Don’t go there, man! You can’t!

Gritting my teeth, I pick up speed as I reach a long, straight stretch of road. Nylah tenses, her grip tightening, and I ease off the gas, adding an extra few minutes to the ride as I amble back to Nolan.

By the time we finally reach campus, she’s as stiff as a board.

I pull over near the park by Buckley Hall. It’s been fully restored after the fire damage and is now one of the nicest dorms on campus.

“You said Buckley, right?” I ask as soon as the engine is cut, even though I already know the answer.

“Yep.” She gets off the back of my bike, and I reach out to steady her.

“Of course you’re in Buckley.”

“Why do you say that?” Her face looks kind of cute all squished into that helmet, and I would smile if her fingers weren’t shaking so badly.

“Here.” I take over for her, softly explaining, “I figure your dad has some sway in the school and can get you into the nicest dorm on campus.”

“It doesn’t work like that. Or if it does, he hasn’t abused his position here. I just got Buckley because a space opened up. I’ve only been living in the dorm for a few weeks.”

“You enjoying it?” I pull the helmet off her head, expecting her standard smile and enthusiasm, but instead her lips are twitching like she’s not sure how to answer my question. “You have a shitty roommate or something?”

“No.” She quickly hides her expression. There’s that golden smile of hers again, but it’s not as trustworthy as the one I’ve been looking at most of the night.

I narrow my eyes.

“She’s great. Really. She’s just… hard to get to know.” Nylah bites her bottom lip, crossing her arms and looking away from me. “Some things take time, and I just… I miss my bestie.”

“Who’s that? G-Dawg?”

She snorts and shakes her head, then cringes. “Actually, yes. But also my friend Hayley. She got into Princeton. And she’s really busy.” Nylah swallows, looking kind of vulnerable.

Why is my chest suddenly hurting?

I don’t like this feeling.

I don’t like the sad look on her face either.

I need to make her feel better.

But how?

And before I can even answer my own question, my hand shoots out, wrapping around her arm and dragging her toward me.

I swear all my logical brain cells just died in unison, because now I’m cupping the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss.

And not just some chaste kiss like you see in the movies. I go for it. My mouth covers hers like she’s mine, and I don’t hesitate a beat before parting her lips with my tongue and staking a very obvious claim.

What the fuck are you doing?

Have you lost your mind?

Yep, pretty sure it’s gone into hiding, because the only thing working on me right now is a body that wants this woman in all the ways.

Her tongue is warm and meeting my commanding thrusts like she wants this.

Holy shit. She wants this.

The whimpering moan in her throat, the way her hand is gripping my shoulder… her legs are parted over my leg, and she’s pulling us together.

Bail, bail, bail! She’s obviously feeling better!

The alarm starts ringing and I quickly jerk back, making sure I stay planted on the bike and don’t move an inch. I don’t pull her back over me so she can straddle my waist and we can make out on my bike. I don’t stand up and lift her off her feet so she can wrap her legs around me.

My breaths are ragged as I gently push her away, then quickly glance down the street, wondering if anyone saw us.

Thankfully, the campus is quiet, most people tucked away for the night. It makes sense. It’s nearly two in the morning on a Monday night. Hardly high party time.

Nylah lets out a shaky breath, and I glance back at her. Her lips are glossy and a touch puffy from that kiss. I wince, waiting for her to tell me off for not asking permission first.

She enjoyed it, you douche! Look at her face!

I need to fix this fast. Clenching my jaw, I’m about to start the engine and take off when she touches my shoulder, then starts playing with the collar of my jacket.

“What was that for?” Her voice still has a tremor, but it’s deeper and just a little husky.

Sexy as fuck.

I sniff, shrugging and trying to play it cool. “Nothin’. Just, uh… wanted to taste ya.”

“Right.”

Her eyes narrow like she doesn’t believe me, so I give her a pointed look and really drive it home. “Didn’t mean anything. I kiss a lot of girls.”

“Okay.” She nods, her lips flirting with a smile as she narrows her eyes at me.

Time to be an asshole. It’s what I’m best at, right? And it should put her off and make this whole dangerous path I’m walking disintegrate. Then things can go back to the way they should be.

Clearing my throat, I lift my chin. “Go on. Get going, Lady Limpalot.”

She gasps. “You did not just call me that.”

My insides scrunch into a pained wince, but I can’t let it show. She’s about to slap me or give me the finger, then tell me to fuck off.

I grab the handles of my bike, about to start the engine, when a surprised laugh pops out of her. The sound is so sweet and alluring, I have to stop and look at her.

She’s grinning and shaking her head. “You are such an asshole.”

“Aw, have you finally found a pet name for me? It’s not very original.”

She narrows her eyes again, and I’m gonna fucking fail this mission. How do I get this girl to hate me the way she should?

“I can come up with something way better than ‘asshole.’”

I snicker, a smile flashing across my lips before I can stop it. “Bring it on, Limpy.”

She giggles. “Challenge accepted, you little crapweasel.”

My nose wrinkles as I quietly let her know that’s way too lame.

With a tut, she nods and inches a little closer to me. Her soft breath fans across my cheek, and I suck in a breath, willing my fingers to stay locked around these bike handles.

“I’ll keep working on it,” she whispers, then trails her finger down my cheek, grabs my chin, and gives me another kiss.

Her lips are soft and sweet, her tongue brushing against mine with an authority I can’t counter.

I’m soon cupping her face, then doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t…

Grabbing her around the waist, I pull her against me, then lift her over my bike so she can straddle my lap. Her sweet ass perches on the edge of the gas tank while I run my fingers into the back of her hair and fist those thick black locks.

Fuck, she smells good. She tastes even better.

Her tongue is luscious, and her tits squished against my chest feel fucking fantastic.

Winding her arms around my neck, she shifts forward and grinds against my rock-hard dick, laughing into my mouth before I realize the hellish torture I’m about to suffer because I can’t have this woman.

She’s so off-limits it’s not even funny.

It’s like I’m playing my own version of Dumb Ways to Die. Flirting with fire and expecting to come out unscathed.

Before she can send me over the edge, I wrench my mouth away from hers and pick her up again. She fights me a little, making it hard to put her down on the sidewalk. I have to get off the bike in the end so I don’t accidentally drop her.

“Stubborn little…,” I mutter under my breath.

She laughs against my cheek. “Me? Stubborn? Take a look in the mirror, dude.”