Page 54 of Clashing
“Fuck.” She gripped the steering wheel and gasped. “I’m driving, Ryker.”
I applied more pressure. “Then drive.”
She whimpered and rocked her hips against my hand. “If we get in an accident, it’s your fault, and you’re paying for it.”
She had a point.It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.
Reluctantly, I returned to my spot high on her bare thigh. God, that skin. “The fuck you need money for anyway?”
“An art class.”
“Do you have what you need now?”
“Almost.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I have a couple other things I can sell.”
“Jesus, Scarlett, let me loan you the money.”
“No.”
“Come on, baby. Why the fuck does it matter? It’s a loan.” I shrugged to mask how much this bothered me. I liked her leaning on me for orgasms. I shouldn’t want her to rely on me for other shit, yet the urge to encourage her to wouldn’t simmer down. “I’m not giving it to you.”
“I don’t need it.”
“I have no doubt you’ll find a way to get the money but why sell your shit when you have another option?”
She parked behind the bar and twisted toward me. “Ryker, drop it. This is me, okay? It’s the way I am. I don’t like depending on people. I don’t like being rescued. I don’t like owing anybody anything. I’d sell my bed before I’d borrow money from you.”
“That’s fucking insane.” I petted circles against her thigh with my thumb. “Everybody needs help sometimes. You literally bitched about how Danny won’t let you help him.”
“That’s different. He’s in actual pain because of the shit he does by himself. He isn’t capable of some of the things he needs done. I’m capable and handling it, so stop being such a prick.” She got out of the car, the slam a testament to how done she was with this conversation.
Muttering under my breath, I got out and followed her toward the bar’s rear door. “Don’t meet another stranger without me.”
“You don’t have a say, Ryker. I’ll do what I want, and you can suck it up.”
“You’re fucking asking for it.” I snatched her arm and threw her against the brick wall, then caged her in with my arms. “You’re not going without me. End of discussion.”
She got right in my face. “You don’t control me. End of discussion.”
“I’m not controlling you, Scar. I’m protec—”
“I don’t need protection,” she snapped. “I’m good. I’m fine. I take care of myself.”
I pinned her to the wall with my body and wrapped my fingers around her throat. “You take care of yourself?”
Despite glistening sweat on her skin sticking strands of her hair to her neck and face, goose bumps erupted on her arms. She fisted my shirt, her breathing shallow. Hooded eyes destroyed my decency.
“You don’t always take care of yourself.” I ground my cock against her. “I take care of you.”
She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering. “I take better care of myself.”
Now she wasreally asking for it.
“You do, huh?” I eased back and slipped my hand between her thighs.
She gasped, and I touched her through her shorts until she ground against my hand with a low moan.
“You do this better?” I rubbed her harder, and her pupils expanded. “You can’t do this.” I planted my lips on her neck and sucked until she hissed. “You can’t do this.” I crashed my lips on hers.
