Page 43 of The Wrong Drive-
“Likewise,” I say, kicking off the rest of my clothes, his erection now pressing against my bare skin. “But I’ll learn you, if you learn me.”
“I’m unstable, Em.” He kisses down my neck, stopping at my collarbone. “And I can’t teach you something I don’t know. No one has survived me.” His words hit like a sledgehammer to my heart, but his mouth finds my nipple then, sucking it into his mouth with force.
I thread my fingers in his dark hair, tipping my head back as his hand palms my other breast and he flits his tongue across my nipple. “I’ll figure it out,” I pant. “I’ll figure you out.”
He kneels, kissing his way down my stomach, pausing to look up at me. “I hope you do, angel. I really hope you do.” Turner lifts me, catching me by surprise as my legs land on his shoulders and his arms wrap around my thighs.
My chest heaves as he buries his face between my legs, groaning as his tongue connects with me. “Oh fuck,” I pant, ashe circles my clit, pulling at me. I squirm against him, but he’s relentless, sucking and licking, drawing me closer and closer to an orgasm.
“Turner,” I cry as I near the edge. “I…” My voice trails off as I come, my thighs tightening around his head. He holds onto me, letting me grind against his face, drawing out as much pleasure as possible. My cries turn to sighs as he drops my legs, and then sweeps me up, carrying me into the bedroom.
His mouth crashes into mine as we collapse to the bed. He gives me no warning as he pushes himself into me, grunting with satisfaction. “You’re so good, Em.” He thrusts into me, biting down on my lips as he picks up his force.
I wrap my arms around his neck as we mesh skin with skin, baring more than just our bodies. All I can feel ishim—his heat, his scent, his sanity slipping, if he ever had it from the beginning. As he comes inside of me, a guttural growl fills the room, laced with pain and pleasure.
“Oh fuck, Em,” he groans into me, gripping me. “Why are you so sweet? Why aren’t you trying to run away from me?” He buries his face in my hair, and I’m not sure who is holding who in the moment.
“Do you still have to go upstairs now?” I whisper when he finally releases me, propping himself up on his elbows.
He searches my eyes, his fingers brushing across my cheek. “I can stay here with you. Just let me shower.”
I nod, resting my hand over his. “Okay.”
He slides off me and then the bed, heading for the bathroom. I take in the shadow of him, noting that he leaves the door open as he slips into the shower. I watch him through the glass, wondering what he’s thinking, and if he’s even close to being okay.
And is it selfish of me to think that I could be enough for him? Could I give him something to keep his mind here? I mean,his brother left him. What if I didn’t? What if I chose to stay? Could he love me?
The questions swim around my head as I lay there, watching Turner’s shadow in the shower.I’m fucking crazy for falling for him. He killed Adam. God knows who else he’s killed. He’s threatened to kill me, too.
But for some reason, I really don’t think he will.
Turner steps out of the shower then, toweling off and heading in my direction. He stops a couple feet from the door. “Were you just staring at me the whole time?”
I blush. “Whoops. Sorry.”
He grins at me, letting out a chuckle. “It’s fine. It’s just been a long time since anyone has tried to catch a glimpse of me naked.”
“I bet that’s weird for you,” I say, following him as he climbs into bed beside me, tugging the covers up around both of us.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He pulls me into his chest, and I wrap my arm around him, snuggling into his chest again. “So you read the letters on the desk?”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling him tense beneath me. “I also read your brother’s journal.” He stops breathing at the mention of that, and I suddenly regret mentioning. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I was just… I just wanted to know who you are. I don’t know. It was absolutely heartbreaking—what you went through,” I feel myself rambling, terrified of the reaction that he’s going to have, desperate to stave off his explosion. I don’t have clothes on to go sprinting into the night. “Turner, I’m so sorry.”
He audibly swallows. “I haven’t read his journal. I, uh, couldn’t stomach that.”
“There’s not a lot in there,” I say quietly. “I… Um… I’m sorry that he left you when you were really going through it.”
“What?” Turner’s reaction takes me by surprise.
“That he left?” I offer it out there again.
“Mm,” is all he says, then kissing the top of my head. He falls into silence after that, but in ten or so minutes of me holding my breath off and on, he falls asleep, his breaths deep and even. I lay against him, listening to him like that, until I finally catch myself drifting off into a haze of slumber as well. However, I still can’t shake that I’m missing a piece of his complicated puzzle…
And it leaves me with a bad,badfeeling in my gut.
Chapter 19
Turner
