Page 74 of Twisted (Never After)

The car loses control slightly, and I gasp, panicking and slamming on the brakes. My body jerks forward, the seat belt cutting into my neck.

I groan, frustrated, throwing my head back against the seat, the pride I just felt slipping away like sand through my fingers.

“This is pointless. I’m clearly not made for driving.”

“Do you always do that?” he questions.

“What?” I side- eye him.

“Give up so easily.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, which is good because I don’t have one to give him. Instead, I’m sure his question will just seep into my subconscious and fester there so I can overthink it later and wonder if he’s right.

Leaning over, he reaches out, grasping my hands in his, his touch sending a shock through my system.

Flashes of my vision in the shower, with his rough fingers dragging down the sides of my body, make my skin heat. I rub my thighs together and clear my throat.

Dammit.

“Keep them here.” He places my left hand on the wheel. “And here.” Right hand on the right.

“You should stop touching me,” I say, my voice low.

“Agree to disagree,” he replies, slowly taking his fingers away.

My stomach flips, and it pisses me off because it keeps doing that, and I don’t want to react to him at all. Besides, this is all just a ruse to keep me agreeable, I’m sure of it.

“You really don’t need to try so hard,” I bite out. “No one’s around to see you.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” He smirks. “Trying?”

I slap my hands against the wheel and the horn goes off, making my stomach surge into my throat and my heart skip.

He laughs. “Okay, that’s enough for the day. Let’s switch.”

I don’t argue, even though I really want to keep driving. Even more than that, I want to ask if he’ll bring me back so I can try again. If he’ll teach me more.

He’s the only person who’s seen me lacking and not just handed me whatever I need but given me the chance to learn it myself. It’s different from what I’m used to, and I like the way it feels.

Opening the door, I move to slide out of the driver’s seat. A hand appears in front of my face, and I hesitate to take it, not wanting my body to betray me again by reacting to his touch.

But this car sitsreallylow, and I don’t want to make a fool of myself trying to stand when he’s clearly offering help, so I slip my palm in his, static energy shooting through my fingers and up my arm as I let him lift me from the seat.

I try to move my hand back, but he tightens his grip, pulling me in until his lips are by my ear. “If you think I’ve beentryingwith you, then you clearly don’t know what a man looks like when he tries. I’ll be sure to rectify that situation.”

I suck in a breath. “Why bother?”

“Why not?”

He lets me go then, but the burn of his touch stays.

The sound of tires crunches on the loose gravel of the parking lot and I glance behind Julian to see a cop car pulling up.

My stomach cramps up tight.Will I get in trouble for driving without a license?

Julian’s eyes flick from me to the patrol car, his jaw setting and his brows dropping down until that serious mask he wears so well coasts over his face entirely. It’s dark and dangerous, and I’m reminded again why I don’t let myself get on his bad side unnecessarily. He seems to let me get away with a lot of things that other people don’t, but there’s a reason why I don’t fight with him more. Not when people’s lives hang in the balance.

Oddly enough, even though I know I was technically doing something wrong, I feel safe with him here. I know that no matter what happens, he won’t allow some local cop to have control over someone like him. This police officer might have a bit of power, but it’s smothered entirely by the force that is Julian Faraci.