Page 50 of The Wrong Drive-
I reach for him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He kisses my cheek, threading his arm around my waist. His lips graze across my skin, and as I’m pressed against him, I can feel his heartbeat, alive and well—even if his mind isn’t.
Maybe I am being selfish.I suck in a sharp breath as I lean away, studying his face. “I’m sorry. I want what’s best for you.”
“Em,” he says, his voice soft as he thumbs away the tears from my cheeks. “We can figure it out, but this…” Turner’s gaze jumps to the gun on the floor. “This isn’t the way to do it. I’m too tired of spilling blood, and while I think I belong in the ground, you don’t—and I’ll respect that.”
“That’s the only reason?”
He chuckles, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. “I mean, right now, that’s what I’ve got.”
I mirror it, batting away fresh tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything for Christmas. I don’t have skills like this.” I brush my finger over the necklace. “It’s incredible.”
“This was by far, the best Christmas I’ve had in years.” He runs his hand along my outer thigh. “You gave me more than you realize.” I nod, throwing myself into him again and holding on tight. “I’ll be good,” Turner murmurs into my hair. “I can be good for you. It’ll just take me some time to figure it out.”
“I know,” I say, clinging to him. I was just minutes away from losing him forever, and the reality of that sinks in with every passing moment. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Turner kisses the top of my head, and then lifts me up, wrapping his arms around my ass. “I’m tired of being in here.”
He carries me out, breathing in deeply as we reach the fresh air. “I had no idea you had it in you to kick in a door.”
I laugh. “Me either, but desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.”
Shaking his head, he steps up onto the back porch, and then heads inside of the cabin. He shuts the door behind Gunner, and then heads straight for the bedroom. He shuts the dog out, and then drops me down on the bed.
He climbs onto it beside me, and then cups my cheek in his hand. “You’re the best unplanned gift I’ve ever gotten.” Turner leans down and presses his lips to mine, and I nip at his lower lip. Groaning, he glides his hand to the bottom of my sweater, tugging it up over my head.
I unsnap my bra and then kick off my shoes as he tugs at my leggings. I then go for his shirt, pulling it off him. We finish methodically undressing each other, and I soak it in. I have no freaking idea what we’re going to do when this holiday is over—when real life comes back.
When everyone finds out that Adam is gone.It’s going to be a whirlwind of scrutiny and coverups, but if it makes me a bad person to already know I’ll cover for Turner, then so be it. He uses his knee to part my legs, situating himself between them.
I nip at his bottom lip, drawing out a groan from deep in his chest. “I don’t care if you’re dangerous. I still want you.”
“You’re a brave woman,” he counters, grabbing my chin and running his thumb along my mouth. He presses against my lips, and I suck it into the warmth of my mouth. Turner watches me with a dark expression, tinged with lust and desire. The tip of his cock brushes my entrance, and I rock my hips toward him, desperate to have him again.
I don’t care if he’s fucking insane.
I’m pretty sure I am, too.
“Fuck, Em,” he rasps as he presses himself into my pussy, already soaked and ready for him. “You always feel so good.” His breaths deepen as he fills me the rest of the way, his hooded eyes hazy as they hold mine.
He pulls his thumb from my mouth, and I drop back on the bed, gazing up at him. His features are softer as he thrusts in and out of me, dropping his head to kiss my lips. And even then, his kiss is more careful and slower, as if he’s purposefully taking his time with me.
I thread my fingers through his dark locks, as his mouth trails down my jaw, neck, and then dips lower to my chest. I grind against him, riding the high as arousal pumps through my body, drawing me toward the edge. My nails dig into his scalp as I arch my back.
“Turner,” I cry out his name as I crash around him, the walls of my pussy pulsing with pleasure as he sucks in my breast, circling my nipple with his tongue. I cling to him as he thrusts through my climax, drawing it out as he picks up his pace.
“I love it when you come,” he pants into my chest, palming and kissing me with an added air of hunger now. He pumps into me over and over, and I watch him, the god of a man, losing his control inside of me.
It’s almost spiritual, the way he moves and fucks me. He’s not thinking about his past or future—and he’s not fighting urges for violence. He’s just himself, and as he explodes inside of me, filling me with his cum, he groans out my name.
“Emersyn,” he rumbles, the tenor in his voice shaking the walls of my chest cavity. He locks eyes with me before he collapses, pulling out and resting his head against my upper abdomen.
I stroke his hair as we lay there, lost in the moment and still disconnected from reality. “Turner,” I say, running my fingers through his hair once more. “I don’t want to leave.”
His breaths slow but he doesn’t look up at me. “Then don’t.”
“People will wonder where I am, and not to mention, there’s also the issue of my ex-boyfriend…”
He stiffens at that, pushing himself up off the bed. “We don’t have to make it complicated. You ended up here. He ended up God knows where, out searching for you—or whatever.”
