Page 36 of Traitor
Then I get frustrated with talking and strain against him, cupping his face with both of my hands until the kiss turns needy and violent, all tongues and teeth knocking together, and urgency. I could kiss him forever and very nearly do until he breaks away, taking his hands from where they’ve been kneading my ass and placing them on the car on either side of me. The sound of his low groans fill my ears as we both try to regain control.
“When can I see you again?” he asks, but he doesn’t touch me. Which is probably for the best. A few seconds more and I would have begged him to take me right there in front of God and everyone.
“Um,” I say, trying to marshal my thoughts into some semblance of order. “That probably isn’t a good idea.”
He presses his forehead against my shoulder and dares to skim his hands up and down my back. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s the best idea I’ve had in years.”
That steals a laugh from me, and he lifts his head long enough to give me a devastating grin. If my knees weren’t already weak, that smile would have done it. I lift a hand to his cheek and kiss him one last time. All at once, the way he makes me want to sigh in contentment also makes me want to run. The comfort is both seductive and terrifying.
With a shaky sigh, I say, “This was nice, but you and I both know it isn’t smart for it to become a thing.”
Hands still caressing my back, he puffs out a sigh. “Yeah, I know. But it was sure fun.”
“Maybe,” I say, my voice wistful, “Maybe if things were different, but I’ve got a lot going on personally, and I’m not in a place for a relationship. Besides, there’s a lot I still don’t know about you, and if I’m being honest—great sex aside—there’s something about you that sort of scares me.”
“Fair enough. But you can call me anytime, yeah? Since you’re staying for a while, just because we can’t do the relationship deal doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
I nod, but I’ve already made up my mind not to see or talk to him more than I have to. As much as I want to tell myself it was only sex, there is nothing simple about Ford. A clean break is best, for both of us.
“I’d say you can call me if you run into any trouble, but trouble seems to find you and I probably shouldn’t jinx it,” he says.
When my smile threatens to wobble, I give him one last, long squeeze, then turn so he can’t see how hard it is for me to walk away.
He waits on the sidewalk by his front door as I carefully buckle myself into my car and back out of his driveway. As I pull away, he lifts a hand and I reply in kind, but the whole way home I have to wonder if I’m making some sort of colossal mistake. Not the sex, like I thought it was, but walking away.
