Page 108 of Famous Last Words
She smiles up at me, and I can see just how tired she is. And I can only assume she’s exhausted, especially after our night together last night where not a lot of sleep was had. I have this unfamiliar feeling in my gut to take care of her, dropping her hand so I can instead wrap my arm around her shoulders and hold her close.
“Let’s get you home, Keller,” I whisper against her temple before pressing a kiss there.
Outside, the cool night air whips against my heated skin, and I feel an unexpected rush crash over me, my heart kicking up a notch like it does when I skate out onto the ice before a game. I guess it’s a late reaction, adrenaline from the almost-fight.
“Did you order a ride?”
I take my keys out of my coat pocket, jingling them in front of her face. “No need, baby.”
She peers up at me, her cheeks turning a dusty pink, and I know exactly what she’s thinking because I’m thinking it too. The last time I had Fran in my car, I fucked her raw and came deep inside that sweet pussy of hers. I’ve thought about it every time I’ve gotten into the Chevelle since.
“Come on, baby.” I grin, walking her down the dark, empty street and around the corner to the cobblestoned side alley where I managed to find a parking spot earlier.
The Chevelle gleams beneath the dull glow of a streetlamp, and I hurry to unlock the passenger door and open it for her. She pauses before getting in, her hand grazing my chest as she leans up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my lips. There goes my fucking heart. It’s like a drum, beating hard and fast. Almosttoofast.
I wrap a hand around the back of Fran’s head, pulling her even closer so I can deepen the kiss, thrusting my tongue into her warm, sweet mouth. She grips the front of my coat, moaning against my lips, and my dick stands to attention, surprisingly hard as stone from just one kiss. This woman will be the death of me. Death by erection.
I reach down, my fingers toying with the hem of the too-short dress she wears to work, and I drag the material up, stopping just shy of her pussy, heat radiating through the thin cotton of her panties. I could fuck her right here in the street. In fact, it’s almost as if I need to. I’m suddenly so fucking horny.
Pressing Fran up against the side of the car, I break our kiss, dragging my lips down her jaw, her neck, stopping at her hot spot to lavish her with kisses, bites, and sucks, my hands gripping her waist so tight. “Fuck, I need you so bad,” I murmur against her skin.
“Not here,” she pants, gripping my shoulders. “Take me home.”
I pull back, staring at her face, her gaze heady and lips kiss-swollen. “You gonna be my filthy little slut tonight?” I nip at her ear lobe.
Her eyes flit between mine, a curious smile ghosting her mouth. “What’s gotten into you?”
Pulling back again, I drag my teeth over my bottom lip, staring hard at her, a desperate need to claim her coming over me. Leaning in again, I whisper, “You’remine, Keller.” I lick the shell of her ear. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
Fran pulls back just enough to look at me. But her smile is gone, and she holds her hand at my chest, keeping me at bay so she can study me. “Robbie? Are you okay? What’s this about? Your heart isracing.” She looks to where her hand is pressed against my chest.
And I don’t know why, but her questions and the look in her eyes only pisses me off. I cage her in, placing both hands on the car, on either side of her head. “Say you’re mine,” I demand.
After a moment of staring into my eyes, she nods just once, swallowing hard before finally saying, “I’m yours.”
Maybe it’s the tone, or the way she blinks when she says it, but something tells me she’s not being entirely truthful. And that only pisses me off even more.
An unexplainable anger surges through me, and I pull away from her like she’s burned me. Storming around to the driver’s side, I hop in and turn the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life through the silence of the night.
“Get in.”
Fran settles into the passenger side, and I can feel her eyes on me, but I choose to ignore her only because I feel like I’m on the verge of saying something I know I’ll regret. Instead, I chew on the inside of my cheek, feeling my heart race with unease as I pull away from the curb. Pressing my foot down, the tires skid as I turn onto Broadway.
My hands are clammy as I grip the steering wheel. My heart races to the point I can feel every beat against my ribs. I rub at my sternum to ease the tension in my chest, but it’s pointless.
The night lights are doing some seriously fucked up things to my eyes; I blink hard to try see straight, but it’s impossible. Something is wrong. I don’t know. It’s almost like it’s hard to breathe. Like something has my throat in a chokehold.
I’ve had panic attacks before. But this is something else. Suddenly my mind is rife with thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking. Like the way Fran looked at me just now. Is she regretting this whole thing? Is she starting to realize she might be better off with a guy like Tadd? And how fast can the Chevelle actually go? I’ve never tested it out before. I wonder how fast I’d need to drive to miss every red light on West Street?
“Are you okay?”
I look down to where Fran’s hand rests on my thigh. Meeting her eyes, I see nothing but concern in her gaze and it only increases my anger. She feels sorry for me, and I hate that; I fucking hate pity.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I know I’m being an asshole, but I can’t seem to stop.
“Do you wanna be with Tadd?”
Her lips fall apart on a gasp. And at first, she looks hurt. But then, unbridled anger flashes in her gaze. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
