Page 107 of The Haunting of Lockton
“Yes, I’ll feed you first.”
I laughed. “Then, it’s a plan.”
Paxton was quiet as we got into his car and left the parking lot. The blinker clicked as he signaled to turn right, and the wheel slid between his hands as he straightened it after. I rested my head back against the seat and listened to the soft murmuring of the engine.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at him. “Sorry for what?”
His eyes flickered over to me before returning to the road. A very deserted road with it being so late. “My behavior in the bar.” A pause. “I thought the worst of you and lashed out because of my own insecurities. It wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”
Oh. That.
“Honestly, I can’t really blame you for thinking it.” Tiny pinpricks attacked my sternum. “Not too long ago, I definitely would’ve flirted with Jovie. Among other things. I was a playboy who swept into town, fucked, and then left. Just like you said.”
“I should never have said that.”
“But you were right.” I shifted in the seat to face him. “Being with people in the past, I didn’t take any of it seriously. I never let myself get emotionally attached to anyone. They were just a fun time while I was in town, and then I never thought of them again. Sex was all I wanted.”
There was a slight quiver in his chin, and the steering wheel creaked beneath his grip.
“Notice my usage of past tense,” I added and smiled when he glanced at me. “You’re not like them, Paxton. Fuck, you’resonot like them.”
“What am I, then?” he asked, staring intently at the road. That quiver had traveled from his chin and settled in his left leg as it lightly bounced in place.
“You’re…” I searched for the right word. “You’re just different, Paxton.”
The evidence lay in the lingering stares, the soft laughs, and the almost magnetic pull that always had us touching when close. It was in the way we clung to each other in bed, our lips crashing together over and over as our hearts beat wildly in our chests. And it was in the tender way we cuddled afterward, tired but not ready for the moment to end.
“We’re toeing a dangerous line, Sky.” He slowly exhaled. “I see it even more now.”
“See what?”
“That I don’t want to let you go.” Paxton’s voice came out gruff. “As I watched you tonight, I realized just how much I like you. I also realized how much it’ll hurt when you leave. Because as much as I don’t want to let you go, I know I have to. Someday. And it fucking tears me up inside.”
“Stop the car.”
“What?” He quickly looked at me before focusing back on the road. “Why?”
“Stop the fucking car, Paxton.”
With a frown set deep between his brows, he checked the mirrors and pulled off to the side of the road. Trees lined us on both sides, and there were no buildings in sight. No people or other cars either. He had taken the back way toward his house, avoiding the main roads.
“What’s wrong? Why did you make me—”
I tore off my seat belt and lunged across the seat, grabbing him by the back of the neck and slamming our mouths together. He grunted against my lips. I kept kissing him, not knowing another way to express the tangled mess of emotions inside my chest. He gradually relaxed and eased into it, resting his hands on my sides.
My heart lifted into my throat with each pressing of our lips, and the feelings I kept in check couldn’t be held at bay any longer.
“I don’t want to let you go either,” I croaked, threading my fingers through the back of his hair. I felt so raw. Vulnerable, like an exposed nerve. The slightest touch, even a whisper of breath, was enough to sting. “I don’t want this to end.”
Paxton’s lips trembled as he joined them with mine, slower and softer now than before. As if he was raw too. Opening himself up to me in the same way I’d opened myself to him.
It was terrifying, letting yourself like another person this much. Letting them past your carefully constructed barriers and showing them the real you. And the real me wanted him for much longer than our temporary stay in Ivy Grove.
He reclined his seat farther back, and I straddled his lap. The small space of the cab limited our movements, but we managed as best as we could. We kissed and nipped at each other, dipping our hands beneath the clothing separating us. I felt his cock harden. Fuck, mine did too. But it was one of the first times where an orgasm wasn’t my main goal.
I wanted to savor this—to savor him. I wanted to kiss him so good his head spun, much like his feverish kisses were doing to mine. I was drunk on Paxton and drank him in deeper, taking as much as I could in the time we had.
