Page 55 of Into These Eyes
I groan. “Please, no more.”
When she glances at me, I can’t help but catch her contagious smile. Shifting in my seat, I become aware of something I hadn’t noticed before. Probably because I was more concerned with making it out of this car alive. “Why does it feel like my arse is getting colder?”
“Fear?” she chuckles.
“Very funny.”
“It’s probably the ventilated seats.”
I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. It doesn’t come.
“They must have had cars with heated seats before …”
“Yeah, I remember,” I say before she gets too uncomfortable. I don’t want to lose this playful side of her.
“So, same difference.”
“Does it clean up after you scare the crap out of your passenger too?”
“Not yet.”
After a moment, Jamie slows the car and, with practiced precision, she presses a few buttons on the dash display before coming to a full stop. Checking the rearview mirror, she looks at me.
“Ready?” she asks, mischief sparking in her eyes.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Too bad.” And with that, she takes her hands off the wheel and her foot off the brake.
To my astonishment, the care reverses perfectly into a rear-to-kerb parking spot.
“Unbelievable,” I murmur. “Does anyone even need a licence anymore?”
“In a hundred years, I bet people will think it was crazy to allow us fallible humans control over such a lethal missile.”
I shake my head. “Don’t you remember the joy of actually driving? I used to lie in my cell and relive my short driving experience.”
The spark in her eyes dies a little. “You haven’t driven since you were released?”
“Can’t afford a car.”
Her hand covers the fist resting on my thigh. And just like every time she’s touched me, my body comes alive. I want nothing more than to uncurl my fist and entwine our fingers. As I start to do just that, her hand disappears.
“I’m starving. Let’s go,” she says as she climbs out.
After deciding on a couple of burgers, we head across the road to the river while we wait. Walking along the grassy path, I barely glance at the tannin-stained water flowing past.
I suppose the river’s beautiful in its own way, but all I see is Jamie. Her long ponytail bounces against her back, her flowing dress brushing against those smooth thighs, her toned calves flexing with every step. I’d like to run my fingers over every inch of those legs. Then there’s that damn ponytail driving me crazy with thoughts of wrapping its length around my hand, my wrist, my forearm.
“Thank you,” she says softly, giving me a sideways glance.
I clear my throat. “For what?”
“Making me forget for a while.”
I let out a long breath, pushing down my depraved, animalistic urges.
As I suspected, the hurt’s still there inside her, lurking beneath the surface. That I’m the one to give her some relief has my chest swelling with pride. We all need a distraction every now and then, but she’ll need to face the gravity of everything that’s happened sooner or later. I’d love to be there for her when that happens. Last time was just the tip of the iceberg.
