“Baby,” I gasped. It was coming over me.
He dropped down, holding me still pinned to the couch, his lips sliding along my cheek to my ear.
“Born to love you, Sylvie.”
I rocked my hips back to meet each thrust and panted, my fingers squeezing his holding mine down to the cushions.
“Born to love you, baby,” he repeated. “Die lovin’ you, my Sylvie.”
My neck arched, my * clenched, my clit spasmed, my thighs pressed tight to his sides, his mouth went to my throat and I cried out his name as I came with Tucker Creed still drilling deep inside me.
Oh yeah.
Fuck yeah.
He was right.
We win.
Chapter Twelve
Wishing Away the Years
A late, cool, autumn night in Kentucky, eighteen years earlier, Creed is twenty-one, Sylvie is sixteen…
The house was silent as I walked through it in the dark. Daddy was away on business. The stepmonster was visiting her sister in Atlanta.
I was coming home from a date.
I opened the door to my bedroom and the minute I did, the light came on.
I let out a little scream and, when my eyes adjusted, I stared.
Creed was lounging on my bed, back to the headboard, long legs straight, booted feet crossed at the ankles.
“Missed your curfew,” he said low and I blinked.
This had never happened before. As in ever. Not for ten whole years.
Still, it was Creed and always with Creed and me, anything went and as always I was happy to see him.
“Hey,” I greeted, walking in and closing the door behind me, grinning at him. “What’re you doing here?”
“Missed your curfew, Sylvie, by two fuckin’ hours.”
I stopped and stared at him. “What?”
“It’s past midnight.”
I tilted my head to the side. “So?”
He didn’t answer my question, he asked one instead, “You out with Dixon?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“He’s an asshole.”
I shook my head. “No he’s not, Creed. That’s mean.” I studied him, not liking the look on his face or the feel he was giving the room so I asked, “What is this? Why are you here and being weird?”
He lifted his feet, twisted his lower body and came off my bed, standing tall and, even though I wasn’t close, I still had to tilt my head back to look at him.
“You’re not that girl,” he announced.
I put my hands on my hips. “What girl?”
“The easy girl.”
My chest squeezed.
“What?” I breathed.
“Dixon is a dick,” he stated.
“Stop saying stuff like that!” I snapped.
He took two steps to me and then rocked to a halt. “He’s too old for you.”
“He’s eighteen.”
“Too old,” he decreed.
“This is crazy!” I hissed. “What’s your problem?”
“That guy, Sylvie,” he shook his head, “not a good guy. Only man richer in the county than his Daddy is your Daddy. He says everywhere he won’t have to work a day in his life and still be rich. And you know what? He’s right. And you know what else? Makes him an asshole dick that he’s down with that.”
I moved away from him, tossed my purse on a chair in the corner and whirled back to him. “I’m not marrying him, Creed, we’ve only had one date.”
“Don’t let there be another one.”
I planted my hands on my hips again and shot back, “Not for you to say.”
“Every girl he dates is easy, hopin’ for access to the pool and the horse stables and the rides in his sports car. You already got that shit, Sylvie, you don’t need him to give it to you.”
“I’m not dating him because he’s rich, Creed. I’m dating him because he’s cute.”
“And you datin’ him says somethin’ about you, not him, and it’s not good. So stop doin’ it.”
I threw out a hand asking, “You know what?” Then I didn’t wait for him to answer and went on, “You’re being a dick. This is none of your business!”
“You’re my business, Sylvie.”
“No, I’m not. Or at least this part of me isn’t,” I retorted and he leaned into me, his handsome face twisting in a strange way.
“Yeah, you are. All of you. You’re my Sylvie.”
I sucked in a breath and held it even as I felt every inch of my skin tingle.
He leaned back, scowling at me then he looked away.
Tearing a hand through his hair, he muttered, “Jacked. Even sick. Totally fuckin’ illegal.”
“What?” I whispered and his eyes cut back to me.
“Do not go on another date with Jason Dixon.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it means something to me.”
I pulled in another breath and looked away.
“Sylvie,” he called and I looked back. “Promise me.”
I clenched my teeth. Then I nodded.
“Is that a promise?” he pushed.
“Yeah,” I bit out.
He stared at me and I stared back.
We did this a long time.
He broke the silence.
“Dad would be pissed.”
“About what?” I asked.
His striking blue eyes moved the length of me and my skin started tingling again.
Then they locked on mine.
“He’d be pissed at me… wishing away the years.”