She laughed softly, placing her hand on my stomach. “I like when you’re needy.”
“I know.” A couple of moments passed. “How did your talk go with Dee last night?”
Her fingers curled against my shirt. “Honestly? Not good. Not good at all.”
I reached down, placing my hand over hers. She sighed and added, “She says she’s not ready to really talk about anything, and I totally understand that, but…I want her to be ready, because I miss her. She was my best friend.”
“She is your best friend.”
Kat didn’t respond.
I twisted onto my side and scooted down. Those beautiful gray eyes were full of tears. “She is still your best friend,” I repeated. “Dee still cares about you.”
“You think so?” she whispered, touching my cheek with the tips of her fingers.
Kissing the end of her nose, I then pulled back. “Yes.”
She smiled weakly. “I know I shouldn’t be worried about my friendship when we’re dealing with Blake and Dawson and Daedalus…and everything else under the sun.”
I slid my hand off her hip, to her upper thigh. “Kitten, you can worry about whatever you want. I just wish you didn’t have all that crap to be concerned with.”
“Can say the same thing for you.” She dragged her fingers down to my jaw. “You’re having to deal with a ton of crap.”
“It’s nothing.” My voice lowered as my hand tightened along her thigh.
She leaned forward, brushing her lips along mine. “What do you think we’re going to see Wednesday night?”
“I have no idea.” I nipped at her finger as the tip skated over my lower lip. “I’m not even sure about this club. Martinsburg isn’t that big of a place.”
“Bigger than here, right?” Her finger found my right dimple. “I know it’s not far from where my mom works when she’s in Winchester.”
“It’s bigger than here, but then again, most places are.”
She grinned. “I wonder who Luc is.”
“No idea. Never heard of him.”
“Hmm…” She trailed off, and I knew there was more that she wanted to say, but she kissed me again.
And I couldn’t complain about that.
The kisses started off slow and they were as sweet as sugar water, but it didn’t take any amount of time for the kiss to turn deeper, rougher. There was nothing tentative about the way she kissed me or the way my tongue danced with hers. I rolled, shifting her onto her back. Her arms looped around my neck and fingers immediately went to my hair. Man, she loved getting her hands in it, and that was another thing I’d never complain about.
Bracing my weight on my forearms, I settled over her, chuckling when she moaned into my mouth. I caught that sound, and then I was the one groaning as she hooked one leg around my waist.
Hell.
I shifted my weight to my left arm, and then my right hand took a nice slow trip over the dips and swells until I slipped my hand under her loose sweater. Her back arched as my finger skimmed over the smooth skin of her belly.
Knowing her mother could walk in on us at any given moment, I forced myself to slow down, dragging the kisses out until I could break away. Sliding my hand out from under her sweater was probably one of the hardest damn things I’d ever done.
Her lashes lifted. “Your eyes are glowing.”
One side of my lips kicked up in a grin. “I’m not surprised.”
She brushed her fingers through my hair, dragging the shorter strands off my forehead. Our breaths mingled in the warm space between our mouths, and the only noise in the room was the sound of our breathing. Kat pressed her forehead against mine, and as she splayed her fingers across my cheek, she let out a soft, shallow sigh.
I could live on those kisses.
I could live on those tiny breaths.
I could live on her.
By the time we hit Interstate 81, I wanted to kick Blake out of the damn car, tie him to the middle of the road, and run him over several times. At least fifty times. Maybe fifty-one.
Kat was actually wearing a coat, and based on the minuscule skirt she was wearing, paired with legit torn stockings, I was almost afraid of what she had on under the jacket, but those legs…
Yeah, I still had a thing for her legs.
We were running late because we hit a snow squall outside of Deep Creek, and jackass in the backseat just had to point out that if we’d gone south we wouldn’t have hit the snow.
He was lucky that we were close to our destination, nearing the Falling Waters exit. “Which one?”
Blake popped forward, dropping his elbows on the back of our seats. I rolled my eyes. “One more exit—Spring Mills,” he said. “You’re going to take a left off the exit, like you’re heading back to Hedgesville or Back Creek.”
I followed his instructions, eyes narrowing as we cruised down a country back road. Two miles off the exit, Blake spoke again. “See the old gas station up ahead—the pumps?”
I saw what looked like gas pumps about forty years ago. “Yeah.”
“Turn there.”