Page 75 of Sugar Coated Secrets

“No,” I admit, still trying to process that he isn’t upset or thinks it was stupid. “He acted weird. It pissed me off.”

“Everyone in this town acts like that when you ask questions.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Why is that?”

He gets closer and says slowly, his eyes on my mouth, “Rich people stuff.”

“That explains why I don’t know much. Because I’m not rich.”

“I am,” he counters. “It means I can ask questions and get answers.”

“Is that how it works? You throw money at it and get answers.”

“Sometimes…or…”

His lips brush against mine.

“Or…?”

“I get them my way,” he says softly.

“Which way is that?”

My skin buzzes with anticipation, and I wait for him to answer but want his kiss more.

“By force.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Get answers by force.”

“From them, yes. You, never.”

He kisses me softly, his tongue grazing my lips, and then rough. The stubble on his chin is rough on my skin. I moan, fisting his shirt.

When his other hand slides up my bare thigh near the hem of my pajama shorts, my body shudders.

“You taste so fucking sweet, Dulce." He licks the underside of my lips. “Your name is exactly what you are." His tongue snakes over mine. “So fucking sweet and so fucking good,” he whispers.

I arch my neck to meet his eyes, biting back the whimper that wants to escape. He gives me a look I have never seen before. Different. Seductive. His eyes eat me alive, burning my clothes off my skin when they trail down my body and stop between my legs.

“Ford,” I moan.

He smiles, and then his eyes scan up. He’s still cupping my face with one hand, his other on my bare thigh.

“I’m not the same guy you remember from high school, Dulce.”

I think the mess between my legs agrees. He isn’t the same guy I remember. This is the man who women lose their heads over. The celebrity race car driver they don’t think twice about leaving with.

“I see that.”

“Do you, beautiful?” He places his lips over the spot on my throat that beats wild for him. “What do you see?” he rasps, dragging his teeth over my skin and lighting me on fire.

My eyes glaze over, and I whisper, “I see... you.”

I’m totally wet, wanting nothing more than for him to take me on the couch but knowing it wasn’t a good idea with my grandmother in the next room.

I get up, taking his hand. He looks up, and I smile. “Come to my room.”

He gets up and follows me, closing the door as I push the stuffed animals off my bed. He comes up behind me, and when I turn around, he is an inch away from touching me. He pushes me on the bed, his knee pressing on the small twin mattress. I instinctively open my legs.

---