It was faint but constant, and pain sliced its way through my jaw and neck as a scream filled my throat.
Tears welled, and I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid.
I’d forgotten to lock the back doors.
I opened my mouth, getting ready to cry out and lunge for the door, but then his voice was in my ear.
“Hey, Little Devil,” he whispered.
I gasped, the nickname and his hushed tone registering in one powerful, overwhelming blow, and I almost sobbed with happiness.
Are you kidding me?
All of a sudden, he reached forward and took me in his arms, hauling me into the back seat. I shot my hands behind me, touching his face—the sharp nose and angular jaw—grazing the scars on his scalp, and burying my nose in his neck. Freshly showered. As always.
“Oh, my God.” I pressed my forehead into his cheek, holding him close. “Where have you been?”
He didn’t answer, just held me in his lap, in his arms.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, feeling like I was letting out two years of breath. He was here. He was alive and hadn’t forgotten about me.
But…
I sat up and turned around, straddling him in the backseat and grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie.
“You scared the shit out me,” I told him.
“Yeah, I do that.”
Yeah, lots of people liked to do that in this town.
I wanted to be mad, but a laugh escaped, and I couldn’t be angry. He was here, and he got rid of Miles and Astrid.
Keeping hold of him, I dipped my forehead to his, reveling in the feel of him.
He took my upper arms in his hands and held me. “What were you doing with them?” he asked sternly.
I stayed right where I was, our lips an inch away. “You were the one following them?”
He nodded. “I show up to see you again, and when I do, I see you getting in a car with another man.”
“Yeah, that’s a good stretch,” I said, smarting off. “There were two other girls in the car, too. I thought I was safe.”
Releasing his collar, I glided my hands around his neck, feeling the same warm, smooth skin. He remained still, almost rigid, as I stayed there, holding him and breathing him in.
Slowly, his hands left my arms, his touch drifting down, to my waist, digging his fingers in just slightly. Heat settled between my legs, and I bit my lip to keep my breathing under control.
“Did you do something I’m going to make you regret?” he whispered.
Make me regret?
“Jealous?” I teased.
But Miles and Astrid were far away now. Barely a concern. Tomorrow, I’d tell my mom what happened, but right now, I had all I wanted in this car.
I touched his neck, trailing my fingers to his collarbone, and hovered over his mouth, playing with the tiny space of breath between us.
“Winter…” He was almost growling.
I moved around his face, caressing him with my nose, forehead, and hands, my tongue dying to reach beyond my lips and taste him.
“You’ve been gone two years,” I said. “That’s a long time.”
“Did they touch you?”
“And if they did?” I taunted. “I’m grown up now.”
“You’re not,” he said, sounding like a warning but breathing harder himself.
I pressed my chest into his, squeezing him between my thighs. “I’m old enough for things.”
He gripped my waist harder, pressing my body into his. “You’re old enough when I say.”
I smiled, tipping my head back and feeling his lips trail a line up my throat. His mouth said one thing and was doing another.
My body started to move, taunting him. Teasing him. Rubbing on him.
I wanted to whisper his name, but I couldn’t.
I took his hands and pulled them away from my body, sliding them up my thighs, just under my skirt. I wasn’t shy around him. I knew he wanted me, but he kept doing things—being bossy and overprotective—that reminded me of an older brother. It needed to stop. I wasn’t a child. I was ready.
“So what do you say?” I asked, inviting him to touch me.
He curled his fingers against my skin.
“Stop it,” he ordered me.
“I’m sixteen, and I’ve never been kissed.” I put my hands on his chest, feeling my breasts grazing his body. “I waited for you.”
“Winter…”
“I waited for you,” I repeated, panting and brushing his lips with mine. “But I won’t wait forever.”
I layered my lips with his and dipped my tongue out, flicking his lip as I rolled my hips on him. The unmistakably hard ridge of his cock rubbed against my panties through his jeans, and I moaned.
He grabbed me under my arms, holding me up to his face. “That better not be a threat,” he bit out.
And then he took my face in one hand and snatched up my lips, biting my bottom one, almost chewing it like he was starving.
He groaned, I whimpered, and we both gave in, holding each other in our arms, our mouths melting together.
I was fast and clumsy, and I couldn’t keep up with his kisses and tongue in my mouth, but I loved every second.
He nibbled and bit and took with force, gripping the back of my hair to tip my head back and eat at my neck. He moved from my throat to my chin to my jaw and then back to my mouth, and I clutched at his shoulders, tugging on his sweatshirt as I dry-humped him. God, I couldn’t stop myself. He felt so good. It was like an itch that I needed to scratch more and harder.
I tugged at my bow tie, unable to breathe.
Pulling it loose, I unbuttoned my top button, finally feeling freer and diving in, hugging him to where he was sucking on my neck.
My hips moved back and forth, grinding into him
“Winter…” he groaned, pulling back. “I don’t want to…”
I picked up pace, and he grabbed my ass, helping me move.
“Don’t want to what?” I gasped out.
“Make you dirty.”
I slowed, touching his mouth with mine and kissing him softly.
Why would he think that?
“You won’t.” I shook my head, touching his face. “We won’t go all the way. We’ll just play.”
He breathed out a laugh.
I kissed him, and he dug his fingers in again, making my body explode and every inch of skin come alive. God, I loved it when he did that.
“Hey, man, what are we doing?” someone shouted outside. “You want us to wait or what?”
I startled, taking a moment to register he had friends with him. I threaded my fingers into his hair, going for his mouth again.
Don’t leave.
“Dude!” the guy barked again. “Girls your own age, right out here! What the fuck?”
A breathy laugh rumbled from his chest. “I don’t think I can wait for her to be legal, man,” he whispered to his friend but only loud enough for me to hear.
I nibbled his mouth, playing. “Sixteen is the legal age of consent in thirty-three states,” I teased. “Just not ours. It’s a technicality.”
“Researched it, have you?”
I started to grin, but the guy outside grew impatient. “Man, come on!”
But the boy in my arms shot out his fist, slamming it into the window to shut his friend up, and I heard the glass crack and splinter under his fist.
“Ah, Jesus,” the guy whined, and I heard more laughter from others. “Let’s give them some room, guys.”
Their voices drifted off, and he slowed down, touching me, devouring my neck, and getting to know my body. His hands drifted up my skirt, teasing the line but never crossing it, and I slid my hands under his sweatshirt and T-shirt, feeling his hot skin, taut body, and narrow waist.
I brushed across raised pieces of skin under his arms, and paused, noticing they reminded me of what I’d felt under his hair two years ago. I rubbed over them with my thumb several times.
“Why were you upset earlier?” he asked. “When you left work?”
That’s right. He saw me leave the theater. I looked upset?
I guess I kind of whipped the door closed rather vehemently.
“Did someone else do something to you?” He pulled back to look at me as he buttoned my top button and retied my bow tie.
Normally, I hated when people handled me like a kid and assumed they should do things for me, but I got the impression it was more for him. About putting me ‘right’ again.
“Just a bad night all around,” I told him.
“What happened?”
“Nothing important.”