Page 61 of Warped

He caught me looking at him, perhaps sensing the trepidation that lay within me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You can remember everything now, right?” I asked. “Remember all the bad things that happened to you as you were growing up, all the people you’ve killed, how we met?”

He nodded. “Yes, I remember it all. It feels strange to me now how I’d ever forgotten.”

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again.

“Say what you’re thinking, Vee. I want to know.”

“When you’d forgotten your past, you were different—more tender, more emotional, I guess. Part of me is feeling like I’m going to miss that part of you.”

He twisted to face me, then leaned over the handbrake to lace his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. I was held in his grasp, caught in his gaze, falling into him so completely and fully. I wanted to know how he felt about me, yet I was too afraid to say how I felt about him.

“Vee, just because I remembered who I was before the accident, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the person I’ve been since then. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you, or the things I’ve said to you. I meant every single word, and I still do.”

Something that had been clenched tight inside of me unravelled with relief.

“That’s good. I was starting to get used to the other X.”

He pulled me closer. “Does that mean you don’t like the regular me?” he growled in my ear. “Because that would hurt my feelings, and I don’t like my feelings hurt.”

“Now that you have feelings, you mean,” I teased him in return.

His blue eyes narrowed slightly, his lips twitching. “I only have feelings where you’re involved.”

Perhaps we should have been making plans, taking action against the people who wanted me dead, but I knew my chances of surviving the next day or so were slim. Life—in particular my life—was so short, and I wanted to find pleasure in the little I had left. Tony had no reason to keep me alive now that I could no longer testify against my father, and my father would want to see me dead as payback for trying to put him in jail. Yes, perhaps we should have been doing something more proactive, but I wanted X’s mouth, wanted to run my hands over his skin, wanted to feel how I felt when he was inside me.

Xavier Creed. I remembered his full name. My Xavier Creed. The man I’d only previously known as X.

A familiar throb of arousal tightened at my core. I had an itch, and he was the only one who could scratch it.

X must have felt the same way.

He pulled me over, so I lifted my whole body over the handbrake and straddled him. We didn’t have much room, but we didn’t care. Even with the steering wheel wedged into my back, I still couldn’t think of anything but him. He kissed me in that perfect way he did, with his hands either side of my face, his fingers laced in my hair. He kissed me slow and deep at first, but then, as I ground down on the hard length I found pressing against the front of the pants I wore, our kiss became more frantic.

His lips left my mouth to nibble down my jaw and neck. He hovered over the bruises still around my throat. “I hate how that fucker hurt you.”

“He’ll pay,” I said, ducking my head to kiss his neck. “We’ll make him pay.”

I dragged his t-shirt up over his head, wanting to skim my palms over his scarred but beautiful body. His skin was warm beneath my fingers.

His fingers found the buttons of my shirt, and he popped them open one by one, revealing my simple white lace bra beneath. He pulled the shirt from my shoulders then reached behind my back to unhook my bra. We were both naked from the waist up now, and we kissed again, skin pressed against skin.

He reclined me against the steering wheel, so there was a curve in my lower spine, my back arched to push my tits out toward his face. He cupped one, squeezing my whole breast between his fingers, and then dropped his face to cover my nipple with his mouth. The warm wet of his tongue sent sparks straight down between my thighs, and I bucked my hips against his, wanting more. X moved to my other breast, laving my nipple with his tongue and then gently closing his teeth around the peak. I groaned and sat forward, reaching for the button of his jeans.

He reached down to the side of the seat and pulled a lever that sent the seat flying backward a couple of inches. Surprising me, the movement made me squeal, and he laughed against my skin. I thumped him on the shoulder, and we both smiled, but then the moment faded and the lust was back.

Kicking off my heels wasn’t too much of a problem in the confined space, but trying to wriggle out of my pants proved to be more of a problem. This was a time when I figured a skirt would have been more practical. I leaned over to one side, practically on the passenger seat now, and wriggled out of my pants and underwear in one go. X lifted his hip and pulled his jeans down, using his heels to push them down to his feet. His cock stood from his lap, thick and hard and rigid.

I didn’t care that we were completely naked and that anyone could see us at any moment. All I cared about was him.

I couldn’t leave that dick without tasting him first. Though we were in a tight space, I leaned over him, with me still partially in the passenger seat, and licked the smooth, swollen head. He tasted of salty pre-cum, the male muskiness of him filling my nostrils. I was crazy about him. Crazy about this man. I wanted to devour him, sink myself onto him, own him and cherish him and never spend a moment without him.

Was this love? Was that what love felt like?

Or was it just obsession?

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