Page 15 of Born to Run Back
“Four months sure.” She laughed, wild and pained. “Four months of going insane sure.”
I got her jeans open, pushed them down her hips, along with the cotton panties underneath. She was already wet, ready, her body as hungry as mine. When I slid my fingers between her legs, she cried out into the night, her head falling back against the car window.
“Theo, please—”
I lifted her lithe body easily, positioning her on the hood of the Honda, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist as I freed myself from my jeans. The metal buckle was cold against her thigh, but she didn’t seem to care. Nothing mattered except this.
Finally,finallytouching her the way I’d only ever dreamt about.
When I pushed inside her, we both went still for a moment, overwhelmed by the reality of genuine physical connection after months of fantasy. She was impossibly tight, and warm, and perfect, her body accepting mine like we’d been born for this exact moment.
Born to chase this.
Born to run.
“Oh god,” she breathed, her nails digging into my shoulders through my jacket. “Oh god, yes.”
I attempted moving slowly at first to allow her to get used to my size, savoring the feel of her slick, liquid heat, but she urged me faster, her hips rising to meet mine with a violent sense of urgency I somehow understood all too well.
Because I felt it, too.
Hunger. Wild, desperate,insatiablehunger.
“I love you,” I said against her throat, the words torn from somewhere deep in my chest. “I don’t even know you, but I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She was crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks as I thrust harder, slamming her hips against the hood of that Honda over and over again. “I love you so much it scares me.”
The rhythm built between us, frantic and urgent, months of need finding release in this sacred place we’d built together. She came first, her body arching beneath mine, my name a broken prayer on her lips. The fluttering of her tight heat, the vise-like grip of that explosive orgasm she was experiencing—God, it undid me. I followed seconds later, pouring months of longing into her willing body.
I stared down at her, at her flushed cheeks, the flutter of her thick eyelashes, chest heaving, her small, delicate hands fisting my jacket. Her hair was splayed out over the hood of the car, and in that moment, I swear, she looked… angelic. Like an ethereal being that had drifted down from the heavens to save me.
God, I wanted to be saved.
And I couldn’t sit still and let life keep happening to me. Because what did Springsteen say? It was echoing in my fucking head, over and over.
Something about running, about being born for it.
Only this time, I’d runback.I’d come back for her in the same way she’d come back for me.
I chose her.
She chose me.
And that was enough.
Wendy
The silence that followed was deafening.
We stayed wrapped around each other for maybe thirty seconds, both breathing hard, both shaking like nervous little chihuahuas—but then reality crashed in like cold, rushing water. The February night air bit at my exposed skin where my sweater had ridden up. The metal of the Honda’s hood was freezing against my thighs. I could feel his eyes on me, refusing to retreat, refusing to surrender, and suddenly the whole thing felt… surreal.
What the fuck had we just done?
I started laughing first, a nervous, slightly hysterical giggle that bubbled up from somewhere deep in my chest. “Oh god,” I gasped, covering my stupid face with my hands. “Oh my god, we just—”
“Had sex on your car,” Theo supplied, his voice strained with what might have been his own nervous laughter. “At a roadside memorial. At nearly three in the morning.”
“While barely knowing each other’s names,” I added, the absurdity hitting me in waves. We’d been obsessing about each other for four months now, building elaborate shrines, losing sleep—hell, losing ourminds—and we’d just fucked like animals within minutes of finally meeting.
