Page 32 of Psycho

I kept my mouth shut, preventing him from deepening the kiss. He let out a small groan in frustration and pressed his lips harder against mine.

I pressed my hands on his chest and tried to get him to let up, my heart racing as every alarm in my mind started to go off.

“Garrett,” I protested against his lips.

He slanted his head to the side and pressed against me, his hands moving from my cheek to my neck. He squeezed slightly.

I pulled away and whimpered from the pain over my sore neck from when Dad had choked me the night before.

“What was that?” he asked.

He pulled back from me enough to turn on the lights in the car.

I took in a deep breath, feeling slightly suffocated and in a daze, which explained why I didn’t stop him when he tilted my head to the side and took in the bruise on my neck.

I braced myself for his reaction.

I didn’t think Garrett really knew how things were for me at home.

He might have suspected it, but I had never invited him inside the trailer.

I had expected anger or even concern over my well-being.

What I got was curiosity and… lust?

I swallowed.

“I want to go home—”

He cut off my words with a hard press of his lips against my own.

I struggled in his hold, panic making its way back inside me, and I tried to pull away.

His hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing lightly, and I raked my nails down his arms, trying to get him to lessen up. I turned my face away.

“Stop!” I yelled out in the car.

Garrett looked at me with dark eyes, breathing hard.

“What? We’re just kissing. It’s not like you would let us do anything else. I have been patient. Don’t I deserve something for that?”

His hands pawed at my breasts. I slapped them away and pushed up against the side door of the car, trying to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!”

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.

He tried to make another grab at me. I pushed him away, reaching back until my fingers touched the car handle.

How could I not see how terrible he was before?

“You don’t deserve anything,” I gritted out. “I want to go home.”

His eyes hardened. “No. I don’t want to go home yet. I drove us all the way up here, and you know gas isn’t cheap. We came here because you wanted to come here, and now you want to go home, and I’m supposed to what? Do as you say? And you couldn’t even let me cop a feel.”

I glared at him. “I don’t owe you anything.”

He moved in closer to me. “Yeah, you do.”

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