Page 82 of Finding Fate

"Pops, I... driving is... it's still a challenge with the new contraption," I admit, tightening my grip on the door. Fuck, this is embarrassing. Ten seconds ago, I said I could protect her from this computer guy, and now here I am not even able to drive to the fucking store.

The way she slides over to the driver side and holds out her hand for the keys without making this more awkward than it already is makes me want to hug the shit out of her. Okay, more than hug her. In fact, if she were open to it, I'd lay her back against the cheap, cracked leather and put my face between her thighs. It seems like an acceptable sentiment of gratitude to me.

"Are you getting in?" she asks, snapping me out of the very vivid daydream I was enjoying. After digging the keys out of my pocket, I slide beside her and hand them over. "It might be a bad time to mention this, but I don't exactly have my driver’s license. But it can't be hard, right? Gas, brake, stick shifty thing."

Wide-eyed, I stare out the windshield. "Yep, and this is an automatic, so no stick shifty thing, as you like to call it. I like living on the edge with you, Pops. African adventures, driving dangerously, what's next?"

"Hell, don't say that," she half laughs. "It could get a lot worse. This is me we’re talking about."

Turning to face her, I take in the pink hair I've only seen in dreams. The thin brown brows that accentuate her bright blue eyes. The tiny perky nose sprinkled with light brown freckles that blend over to the top of each cheek. And damn, her perfect pink lips. Those lips have haunted my dreams. Pressed against mine, gliding across my stomach as she goes down until they’re wrapped around me and fucking loving it.

I watch her throat bob and her hands tighten to a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She feels it too, this overwhelming heat pulsing through the cab. This small space intensifies everything that's built since yesterday. Hell, since Africa.

"I thought you were giving me time," she breathes, still staring out the window like she's too scared to turn and face me. At least now I know it's not because she's actually scared of me. Hell, if she knew everything I wanted to do to her, everywhere I want her lips on me and mine on her, she might be scared.

My hands tremble from the energy required to keep them at my side. "I am trying."

"Are you?" Her laugh is nervous as she wets her lips.

"You have no damn idea if you're actually questioning it. If I wasn't, you'd be under me right now."

She turns with a gasp. "Why would you want me? I'm nobody. Look at me."

"I am looking, and you're gorgeous as hell, funny if someone's paying attention to catch it, selfless, and did I mention gorgeous? You have no idea how bad I want to search every inch of you to find more of those damn freckles."

A vein in her neck pulses faster and faster, mimicking her breathing.

Fuck. Knowing she feels it too breaks all remaining restraint.

Gripping the back of her neck, I pull her close to press my lips against hers. She doesn't pull back, doesn't hesitate. Eyes closed, she offers a soft moan and angles her head, urging me harder with a hand now wrapped around my neck.

I trace the tip of my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open for me. My hand tangles in her hair as her lips part, granting me full access. Fuck, this kiss is both too much and not enough.

Knowing I'm pushing her faster than she wants, I hold back from taking more. But it's her who slides across the seat to straddle my lap.

Not caring why it happened, I grip the ass I've coveted over the past twenty-four hours and yank her closer. Another moan escapes her lips, making my dick strain against my jeans, eager to feel something other than my hand for the first time in months. But I let her lead, show me how far she's okay with going. For now. Even if my other head has other plans, just having her in my arms, her lips against mine is enough.

"I'm bad news," she whispers as she kisses along my jawline toward my ear. "If I stay you'll get hurt."

"You're worth the storm, and I'm tougher than I look," I manage to get out somehow. My hands tighten their grip on her firm ass to keep them in place instead of skimming up her shirt. "Just don't leave, okay?"

"Okay," she breathes into my ear, making me groan and pull her harder against me. Her knees slide along the seat, spreading her legs wider and allowing her full weight, what little she has, to settle down. But it's the slight rocking motion she adds that makes me hiss and slam my head against the headrest.

"Pops." I pull her lips from my neck to look at me. Our breathing ragged, all the windows in the truck are now fogged like we’re necking teenagers. "Not here. Let's get your snacks, find the bastard who's searching for you, and then pick up where we're leaving off. I'd like to think I'm a more of a gentleman than fucking you in the truck. Our first time," I say with a wink.

"And we need to talk," she says as she slides off my lap to position herself behind the wheel once again.

"Damn women and their talking."

"If I remember correctly, you talked, a lot, a few nights. Don't go saying it's a girl thing."

Hands up in surrender, I smile at her pursed-lipped glare. "Hey, easy there, Pops. I don't mind the talking. Just making small talk."

Her nostrils flare before she leans forward to examine the dash. "Now where do the keys go again?"

"You know what, I'm actually feeling more confident by the second in my readiness to drive. Why don't—"

"I'm kidding, Nash." She rolls her eyes and starts the truck. "Just tell me where we're going and I'll make sure we get there."

"In one piece," I add as I grip the door handle.

"You say potato, I say where's the fun in that."

As we inch down the gravel drive, her wide smile makes everything okay. Hell, if we die, at least she’s having fun.

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