Page 74 of Burn

“You can, but you’re not.” I tighten my grip.

The drive takes minutes. It would have been a nice walk if we weren’t in wedding attire. As we crest a hill, the estate comes into view. Compared to our motel, it looks like Versailles, sprawling and extravagant. The lot is filled with cars, and guests make their way to the entrance. I’ve never seen anything like it. Lex’s small hand moves, reaching over and threading her fingers through mine. I squeeze it gently, offering as much reassurance as possible through a simple touch.

The light, playful Lex is gone, replaced by a ball of nerves.

“There’s still time,” I say, a smirk on my lips.

“Time for what?”

“Time to turn this car around and get the hell outta here. What do ya say?”

She smiles. It’s small, sad, and doesn’t reach her eyes, and when she goes for her seat belt, I don’t miss the way her hand trembles. I move my hand to her leg, and she doesn’t look at me when she quietly says, “I just don’t want to go in yet.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and it cracks a little, as if she’s fighting to keep her emotions in check. “Can we stay here a minute longer?”

“Lex,” I say, low. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she lifts her eyes to mine. They’re glassy, and I lean in closer, allowing my hand to move up her thigh, under the slit of her dress. Her chest rises and falls too fast. She’s clinging to her seat like it’ll anchor her to earth. I know this look all too well. I’ve felt what she’s feeling.

“You want to stay in this car until the world stops spinning? I’ll stay with you.” My tone is even and strong. “You want to leave right now? I’ll be your getaway driver.” My index finger swipes the soft skin of her thigh. She shudders, and her lip swipes at her bottom lip. “Tell me what you need.”

My heart rate kicks up as I watch pink flush her cheeks, and her gaze drops to my mouth. She shifts in her seat, rubbing her thighs together. Barely above a whisper, she says, “I need…” The words die on a breath, but this request doesn’t need words. This part is easy. I know what she needs, and I can give it to her.

“I know, baby,” I say, moving my other hand to her neck and pulling her toward me. She doesn’t pull back, there’s no hesitation, and when our lips meet, she kisses me like she’s drowning. Around us, I register the sound of people laughing as they pass the car, the click of heels on the pavement. This is different than the nightclub and the party. I don’t want an audience; all I want is her.

My hand roams across her skin, and her legs part on instinct. I nip at her bottom lip, and my name is a needy sigh, “Adrian.”

When my fingers graze her through her panties, she moans and stiffens. I smile against her mouth, “You’re okay. I got you.”

She eases back into the seat, pushing her hips forward to grant me better access, and I take it, going past the thin silky fabric, and circling her swollen clit. She writhes against me, breathing heavily into my mouth. I shift, sliding my hand out, and she whimpers. This hungry, responsive woman. My dick strains against my pants, and I shift to reach over her, finding the button that reclines her seat.

She startles momentarily before she understands what I’m doing and leans back. I return my hand to her, this time slidingmy fingers into her tight, wet cunt, gathering her arousal before moving up to her clit and continuing tight, deliberate strokes. The way I know she likes it. Her hips roll against me, and the closer I drag her to the edge, the more the windows fog, blocking out the rest of the world.

Her thighs tremble beneath my hand, and I know she’s getting close, so I switch my position, moving my thumb to her clit and sliding two fingers inside of her, curling them forward and applying pressure to her G-spot. I watch her, the way she clings to the door, her fingernails digging into the leather, her mouth falling open, and her eyes closed. She’s so beautiful like this, giving herself to me, letting me chase away the demons she’s been running from.

I feel her tighten around my fingers before she manages to cry out, “Don’t stop, please! Fuck! Adrian!” Her hand flies up to my shirt, and she pulls me in as her back arches out of the seat. I don’t let her pull me in, needing to watch her come.

And God damn, it’s still my favorite fucking movie.

I keep my pace as the waves crash into her, slowing only when she releases my shirt, and her hands both shoot to my forearm, and she begs me to stop. “So… sensitive…” She says through gasps for air. I slowly withdraw my hand, pull my fingers into my mouth, and taste her. Her eyes are on me as I do, and she giggles, sounding stunned. “You and public places. Never thought I was into voyeurism but fuck, Adrian.”

I reach for her face, pulling my fingers from my mouth. I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, then slowly push my index and middle fingers into her mouth. Her lips part, and I say, “You need to taste this. How fucking good you taste. It makes me crazy, Lex.” Her tongue swirls around my fingers, and I want that tongue, those lips, on my dick. I glance at theclock on the dash, realizing we’re minutes away from missing the whole fucking wedding. “Shit, we gotta go. You ready?”

“This will be great. My best friend is getting married.”

“Terrible liar,” I tease, climbing out of the car and rounding it to her door. I open hers, and she grins and smooths her dress. When I offer my arm, she laces hers through it and stands tall, her head high. The gravel crunches underfoot. I allow her to set the pace, not wanting to rush her.

We step through the double-door entrance, and the building opens to a courtyard framed by columns. In the center, there’s an enormous arbor; white flowers hang down from it, and the smell of orchids fills the air. Chairs line the aisle, mostly occupied by guests in black-tie attire.

“I didn’t realize she knew this many people,” Lex whispers. “This has to be almost everyone in town.”

It’s a lot of people — maybe two hundred, or so. We approach the last row of chairs and are about to sit when Charlie stops us. “Hey guys! Blake has two seats reserved for you at the front. Come this way.”

He smiles, his blonde hair perfectly styled, and in a crisp black suit with a peach-colored tie. I’m again struck by a sense of recognition. His face is so familiar, but I still can’t place it. We follow him, walking down the aisle, past every guest. Lex squeezes my hand, undoubtedly feeling the weight of everyone’s stares.

When we reach the first row, she looks at Charlie. “Are you sure? This is usually reserved for family.”

His smile is broad and genuine when he says, “You are family, Morgan.”

“Lex,” I correct.

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