Page 40 of Speeding Hearts

“No more,” I said. “I can’t take it. I want you now, please.”

His whole body tensed as he held himself over me. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Too late to turn back now,” I said. Then I realized he was teasing me.

Dean pressed his hard shaft against me, the place where his tongue had been a moment before. “I could give this to you. Maybe.” He leaned onto one hand and reached down with the other to pull himself from his shorts.

I groaned at the sight of him. “Yes, I want it. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Dean grinned. Then he looked up through the window and faltered. His jaw clenched, his eyes widening.

“Shit!” He jumped off of me, shocking me into sitting up. When I did, I saw what he saw: the rumble of a car coming down the drive.

Chapter 13

Dean

“Motherfu—”I began, hopping off the bed.

Of all the times for my mom to check in.Allthe times.

Even as I thought it, I knew it was my fault. Just like I’d forgotten about Victoria being at Gino’s, I forgot about Mom promising to come down with breakfast. I scrambled to find my shorts, then my jeans.

“Where’s the shirt?” Stella asked, frantic.

I helped her lift the sheet, the duvet, the pillows. I was looking, and I should have been more panicked myself—but I couldn’t stop thinking about Stella pulling the shirt off.That was the hottest moment of my goddamned life. Watching her take it off like she was daring me to stop her. How she didn’t break eye contact with me until I was lying next to her and she was completely naked… I’d nearly lost myself right there.

Somehow, I hadn’t. Instead, I’d done what I’d dreamed of doing with Stella since the first goddamned moment I saw her—there was no point in fooling myself about that not being the truth.

Or at least, I’d done half of it.

And it had been a delicious half.

I found the shirt, half down the side of the mattress. She snatched it from me, swearing under her breath.

As she pulled it on, it was like all the abandon of the moments before was tightening itself back up, going back into the box I’d tried to keep my feelings for Stella in. And now that it was over and we were scrambling to get back to our real lives, my stomach churned. I might be sick.

What the fuck had I just done? This was going to make things weird, and worse, our friendship would never be the same. I’d act weird around her, and she’d get upset by that. I’d get pissed at myself, and everything would go to hell like it always did.

I’d acted with my heart, and look where the fuck it had gotten me yet again.

“Anybody home?” Mom called. The sound of her voice was like reality officially coming all the way around and clicking into place.

Mom knowing about this would only make things a thousand times worse. Somehow, she still had this expectation that I could provide a redo for her own life. That I would create a happy family with none of the pain that had ripped ours apart. But how was that possible when I’d been the one doing the ripping?

Shit.

I had to decide whether I should go out with no shirt on and make it extremely obvious what I’d been up to in here with Stella, or whether I should put it on and tell Mom we couldn’t do breakfast.

She’d be devastated. Mom had probably been up cooking since dawn. She was so excited to have her first guest here.

“Dean!” Stella said. She was clutching the sheet up over her. “Can you get my clothes please?”

Right. Her clothes.

I nodded. She saw me glance at my shirt again and huffed, then threw it at me.

I pulled it on, running outside into the warm summer morning. Mom’s back was to me as she leaned into the passenger side of her car. I ran to the outdoor shower, snatching Stella’s clothes from where I’d at least had the foresight to hang them last night.

---