Page 62 of Karma's Kiss

I laugh as I fling my hand toward the dartboard. “You think I couldpossiblymake a comeback? You’re so far ahead it’s embarrassing!”

“All right, so we’ll play something else.”

Hunter comes around to give me a side hug. “Bye, you two. Sawyer, you got Madison?”

“Madisonhas Madison,” I reply with gumption. “I’ll get home just fine.Bye, Hunter!”

I do have plans to go home; it’s late and I’m not sure what I’d hope to gain by staying here alone with Sawyer. But he convinces me to at least clean up the darts, and once we do that, there’s another good song playing over the stereo, “Heads Carolina, Tails California” by Jo Dee Messina. I tell myself I can’t leave until it’s over, and then Sawyer convinces me to partner up with him in Spades against Lee and Waylon. The two of us stare at each other across the table, acting like we’ve got some secret code.

“No table talk, you two,” Waylon grumbles.

“They’re not saying shit, they’re flirting with each other,” Lee remarks, throwing down an ace of hearts and winning the trick before sweeping the cards into a clean pile in front of him.

I roll my eyes. “We’re not flirting. I hate him.”

“Can’t stand her,” Sawyer tacks on in agreement.

“Oh yeah? I’ve seenthiskind of hate before…” Lee laughs with a shake of his head.

I frown, trying to discern what he could possibly mean, and I’m no closer to figuring it out when the game is over (Lee and Waylon beat us handily), not even when Sawyer and I are walking out of Doc’s, bumping shoulders and trying to bite down our smiles.

“How’d you get here?” I ask him.

He nods toward his truck. “You ran?”

I tug on my tank top. “Why else would I be dressed like this?”

“I don’t know, but it’s been distracting as hell all night. Those little shorts…”

“What about them?”

He doesn’t say a word.

I haven’t even registered that he’s leading me over to his truck until he’s opening the passenger door for me. I laugh at the gesture. “I don’t want a ride from you! You’re my enemy. For all I know, you’ll drive me halfway to Mexico then kick me out on the side of the highway.”

“Well now that you’ve guessed my plan, I’ll have to come up with something else,” he drawls teasingly. “Hop in, Madison.”

I shimmy onto the seat and let him close the door behind me. He curves around the back of his truck, thumps the tailgate twice, and then opens his door. He climbs in, but he doesn’t start the engine. Why would he? He doesn’t want to take me anywhere. If he could, he’d toss the keys out the window and lose them in the grass.

His truck is parked way off in a cluster of oak trees, far enough from Doc’s front door that it feels plenty secluded. The dark windows are tinted and the moon’s not so bright tonight; we’ve lucked out.

Sawyer looks over the center console at me, and I don’t shy away from his intent gaze. Maybe he hasn’t forgiven me, but it’s clear he wants me. I stare at his lips and declare, “I don’t want to talk any more tonight.”

I can’t fight with him again right now. Not after standing so close to him all night, watching him throw darts and study his cards, not after feeling his heated gaze on me. I feel burned by it, hot and tingly.

“Then come here.”

I lean toward him and his hand catches behind my hair. He tugs me in and the moment we kiss, I feel it again, the desire I’ve tried so hard to suppress these last few days. Sawyer’s hungry for me. It’s apparent in the way his fingers tighten in my hair, the low groan he lets slip out as he presses against me.

He bites my lower lip and I come alive from it. Something scary grows in my chest as I climb up and over the center console and seat myself on his lap. His jeans rub against my sensitive thighs and I shift my hips, trying to find the perfect position until, with an exasperated “Madison,” Sawyer holds me steady, his hands squeezing my hips, his mouth covering mine. Our lips part and our tongues touch. A shudder rolls through me.

His calloused hands come up to tease the skin beneath my tank top, bunching it around my waist then pushing it up to gather just below the bottom of my ribs. I like how big his hands are as they cover me, skimming over my sports bra, making me whimper. His fingers dip under the tight material but then he pulls away and kisses me again, cradling my face. He continues like this, pressing the pedal to the metal one second only to back off the next. It’s like he’s restraining himself and he might have good reason for it, but it’s driving me insane. I’m the one to finally yank my shirt over my head and fling it away. It slaps against the passenger window and falls onto the seat. We both laugh, but not for long. I trace kisses down his neck and fumble with the waistband of his jeans.

God, his body is beautiful. I wish I had him spread out on a bed underneath me. I want to see all of him, feel every hard ridgeand smooth muscle, but this is it—a golden opportunity—and I won’t let it go to waste.

Logistically, car sex is a nightmare. Too bad this is a standard-issue truck and not one of those super XL RVs with walls that extend with the press of a button. I can barely work my biker shorts off my hips and then I don’t even bother with my thong. It gets tugged provocatively to the side by Sawyer’s firm fingers.

Internally, I scream,Hallelujah!

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