Page 100 of Broken Trails
“Hm,” she murmurs, her gaze flicking to the track. “It’s different, you know. Watching you race during the day.”
My brows pull together. “How so?”
Her eyes flick to mine, and something soft slips through her guarded expression. “Just is. You look like you truly belong out there.”
I grin. “Did you just compliment me?” I reach forward and press the back of my hand to her forehead. “You feeling alright?”
She swats me away. “Piss off.”
I can’t help the smile that curls my mouth. “You like me,” I tease. “You’re just fighting it. And I get it. I do.”
Her fingers brush my chest, her gaze lingering on my mouth like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Whatever tension cracked open that night at the motel, it’s not fading. It’s settling in. I tug her closer by the hips, her hands steadying on my shoulders.
I pat the seat. “Climb up.”
She hesitates. “What if it falls?”
“It won’t. It’s stable.”
She moves slowly, swinging one leg over to straddle the bike, and I’m truly surprised she didn’t protest. I shift in front of her, so her thighs are tight around me. And fuck me, this view. Those cut-off shorts. The dust on her boots. The way her eyes are dark and locked on mine.
“Why’d you really bring me here?” she asks.
“I told you. To hang out.”
Her brows lift like she’s calling me out.
“And maybe to remind you that whatever happened between us? It’s not going anywhere.”
Her breath stumbles, and I slide my palms up her thighs, gripping them like I might lose my mind if I don’t.
“Michael…”
I lean forward, and she puts her palms flat to my chest. “We can’t do this,” she says. “That was just—”
“Don’t you dare call it a one-time thing.” My voice is low, rough. This is against every rule I’ve ever made for myself. Every wall I’ve built. But right now, I don’t give a damn. I need her.
“Just… let me. Please.”
Her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow pulls, and when she finally gives the smallest nod, I’m gone. I press my mouth to her jaw, kissing a slow trail down her throat, nibbling just enough for her to feel it. Her hips shift into mine in response. One of my hands slides up, my thumb brushing the column of her throat. I test the pressure—just a whisper of dominance—and that’s when she moans. That soft, high sound that ruins me.
I lean into her ear, my breath hot against her skin. “I’ve been dreaming about this. About you. About how good you’d taste. Reckon you can keep quiet, Freckles?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m gonna make you come right here. On this track. And I’m not stopping till you do.”
“I thought you said no one was here.”
“There isn’t,” I murmur, lips grazing her jaw. “But we wouldn’t want to risk anyone hearing you scream my name, would we?”
Her breath shudders, and this time, there’s no argument.
“Is that a yes, Freckles?” I ask, cupping a hand over her pussy through the denim, feeling the heat pulsing there. Her whimper is all the answer I need. I lift her off the bike, pressing her back against the seat. I step off and slide my hands down her hips.
“Can I?” I ask, my fingers hovering over the waistband of her shorts. She nods, shaking her head like she can’t believe this is happening.
Believe it, baby.I drag her shorts and underwear down slowly, every inch of revealed skin making my chest ache. Once they’re low enough, she shifts, parting her legs, and I step between them. Her thighs hook over my shoulders as I drop to my knees. And fuck me, she’s perfect.
