Page 32 of Found By You

I have a craving—and it’s him.

“Goodnight, Duke.”

Ten.

Duke

I stare ahead as Maci pushes inside her motel room and closes the door behind her. My headlights beam at her window. The curtains are closed, but I still catch the flick of her turning on a bedside lamp.

“Just drive away, man. Drive away,” I say to myself, tapping the steering wheel with my thumb. My leg jumping. Mind racing. Fuck.

I can still feel her hand in mine, her body pressed against me, my arms wrapped around her. I can still see her smile, hear her laugh, smell her perfume. She’s so goddamn beautiful. So perfect. I haven’t felt this way since…

I can’t go there. I won’t put her in that place.

She’s not her. She’ll never be her.

Maci’s something else—something here and now. Can I have it again? I’ve spent one day with her. That’s it. And here I am fiending like a lovesick puppy.

But I am.

I’m so fucking lovesick, craved, deprived—it hurts.

My phone dings with a text and I fish it from my back pocket.

Maci: No strings attached.

Blood rushes north and south as my heart hammers in my chest. No strings, she says. If she’s learned anything at all about me in the last day, it’s that I’m not good about detaching myself. Not when it comes to her, anyway.

I kill the engine and my palms feel heavy as I push open the truck door. I get out and stride to her door. When I knock, she calls out, “Who is it?”

I grin. “Your bossy mechanic.”

She giggles from the other side of the door followed by the slide of the deadbolt. The door opens and my mouth goes dry. Her boots and coat are off and there’s a play of a sexy smirk on her full lips. “Bummer, I was hoping for the milkman.”

A growl escapes my throat as I swoop down and pick her up by her ass. She squeaks, wrapping her legs around my waist. Her arms lock around my neck and I kick the door shut behind me.

The second I do; she crashes her lips on mine with an intensity I’ve never felt before.

I grip her ass tighter and she moans into my mouth with a slight opening of her lips—tasting, begging for more. Our tongues glide over one another like we’ve kissed a hundred times. It’s greedy and passionate. She’s kissing me like I’m the only thing that matters. And I feel it deep, deep down—past the pain, the hurt, the past.

I need this. I need this with her.

If this is what it’s like just to kiss her…

Carrying her to the bed, I lay her down and kick off my boots without breaking the kiss. Maci shifts, pushing my jacket off my shoulders with a nip to my lower lip. I tug it off and toss it to the side as she rips my hat off and flings it across the room. I grin against her lips.

Greedy girl.

Her nails scrape the back of my neck to twine her fingers through the short hair on the back of my head. I groan, pressing my weight onto her—gently. I hold myself up with one arm and trail the other down the curve of her body. Memorizing every inch. Thighs, ass, hips, the dip of her waist, the pop of her pillowy breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I kiss her hard. Possessive. “In this room, you’re mine. Do you understand?” I pant, needing this to feel real—with her, only her.

She looks up at me, her thumb caressing my bottom lip. Big, emerald eyes study me until she quietly agrees, “Yes.”

“Fuck, doll face,” I groan, roughly claiming her mouth. She moans when I bite her lip in return, then soothe it with a suck between my lips. Her body arches into me and her hands trail under my shirt to press against my skin. My cock strains painfully in my jeans—demanding that skin on skin contact.

I pull away to sit up between her thighs and take off my shirt.

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