A soft but worried smile plays across his lips. “You keep zoning out.”
He doesn’t know of our history; if he did, I’m sure he’d find his mind wandering off to the past. Will I ever be able to spend time with him without going there? Maybe if I just tell him, get it all out so that we can move past it, maybe then things will get easier.
“Shit.” Rex rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re into Caleb.”
“What! No!” On instinct, my hand moves to rest on his thigh. “Rex. No. I don’t want Caleb.”
His blue eyes search mine.
“I’m . . . I’ve got a few things on my mind, but they have nothing to do with me not wanting to be here with you.” I squeeze his leg and a tight hiss leaks from his lips. Afraid that I’d hurt him, I pull my hand back. His eyes stay fixed on the place where my grip held his leg. “Rex, I’m sorry. I—”
His hand darts out to grab mine and he pulls hard, tugging my upper body over the center console. Our lips meet in a hungry kiss. The metal ring on his mouth bites into my flesh. His tongue lashes against mine, stirring my blood in a violent rush. I shove my weight up and over, needing to feel more of him. The warmth of his chest brushes against my nipples, sending shockwaves of need down my torso.
On a quest to consume him, I rasp my teeth against his lower lip and bite. He groans and tangles his hands into my hair. My scalp stings as he pulls me back. He wants me to slow down, or ease off, but I’m not in control anymore. The culmination of everything I’ve ever felt for Rex is crashing together, whirling around in a chaotic tornado of need. I delve in deeper, pressing myself against him until my breasts ache. My hand roams his body. The soft cotton of his shirt feels like sandpaper to my over sensitized palm. I push the fabric up to slide my hand beneath it. I’m met with the warm solid muscles of his abdomen. So hard and smooth like—
“Fuck!” He pushes me back so hard that I drop down into my seat and my shoulder knocks against the door. “I can’t.” Burying his head in his hands, he scrubs them through his hair.
I’m breathing heavy, trying like hell to understand what just happened. “I’m sorry. Did I . . . What did I do?”
He sits back and fists the steering wheel so tight it squeaks under the pressure. “I don’t—Fuck.”
I reach out and rest my hand on his back, hoping to comfort him, but he jerks away. I tuck my hand in my lap and curl around it as a bitter wave of rejection washes over me.
“I really like kissing you.” His voice is so quiet that if I weren’t paying close enough attention I would’ve missed it.
“Is that bad?” All I want to do is fix it, make whatever he’s going through better. Take his pain away.
“It is for me.”
Finally he turns toward me, and I fight the urge to recoil at the war raging behind his eyes. Every instinct tells me to pull him into my arms and hold him, but he threw off my touch earlier, and I don’t want to make things worse.
“That kiss was different from the others.” He turns away from me, looking out the window.
Different how? I guess I was a little more aggressive than I was the other times we kissed. Up until the hallway, our kisses have been nothing more than soft pecks. My mind goes back to the kiss at Jonah’s. He pushed me back against the wall, pinning me there with his hips. What was so different about then and now? Other than . . . I was the aggressor. He felt attacked, and considering what he’s been through . . .
I gasp then quickly cover my mouth. The sound and movement draws his eyes back to me.
“Rex, I’m sorry. Everything happened so fast and I wasn’t thinking. My feelings just took over and I lost control.” My words are rushed as they pour from my lips with the hope that they’ll make him stay. “I need to be more careful with you. I understand that now. It won’t—”
“Careful?” The blues of his eyes almost disappear between the tight slits of his lids. “Why do you say that?”
Dammit, I’m fucking it all up!
My head is a jumble of shit, half scrambled from the kiss and half desperate for the right words. “Things are moving too fast.” I force myself to sound casual even though I’m feeling anything but. “You’ve saved me from a dark alley, kept me from slipping into a coma after I got cold-cocked by a biker, and rescued me from a supply room.”
Recognition clears some of the pain from his eyes at the mention of the supply room.
A small smile pulls at my lips. “All that and we haven’t even been on a date.”
The sides of his lips tick up, and he blinks away the last of the hurricane of emotion he wore on his face.
I tap my lips with my forefinger. “You know I’m pretty sure every good superhero takes the girl out after he rescues her.”
“That’s not true. You’re watching the wrong cartoons.”