Page 34 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

“Wait.” His hand grasps my wrist.

The word thickens the air, wrapping itself around my body and jerking me to a stop. I close my eyes, willing my heart to stop pounding so hard, afraid he’ll be able to hear. I don’t want him to know how much he affects me.

I wish he didn’t affect me at all.

His hand leaves my wrist, sliding up my arm until he tangles his fingers in my hair, exposing the side of my neck. I feel his breath as he exhales, blowing lightly as his nose skims along my skin.

“Why do you drive me so goddamn crazy?” he rasps.

“I don’t mean to,” I whisper.

He hums. The sound, low and gravelly, is a match to the pit in my belly, sparking a blaze so deep I worry I’ll burn alive.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t. Things I can’t have.”

My heart races, my arms trembling against his fingers. “What do you want?”

The heat of his body flickers against my back, and his hands grip my shoulders like he’s afraid I’ll run from his words.

I can’t be sure I won’t.

“I want you. Riding me against the backdrop of the sky until your body becomes my horizon. On my face, so I can revel in your taste. In my bed, so I can bury myself deep inside you instead of settling for my dreams.”

His hips press into me.

“I want to say fuck the rules. Fuck my sister. Fuck anybody who says we shouldn’t be together. How come they all get a say? They don’t have to live with the torment of not being able to touch you.”

My breath hitches.

“I want you to admit you feel this the same way I do.”

My heart bangs against my ribs, and I bite my tongue to keep from spilling the truth.

“Say it.”

I shake my head, my eyes squeezing tight. I can’t.

His hand grasps my jaw, twisting my face toward him. His grip is strong, and my breathing grows heavy from the sting of his touch. His lips

brush against mine.

“Say it.” His voice is sharp, deep. Authoritative. It should piss me off, but all it does is turn me on. The hold on my restraint slackens, the need to please him rushing through my system and pouring out of my mouth.

“I feel it,” I whisper.

His mouth crashes into mine. My body sings from his taste, and his words linger on my skin.

Why should they get a say?

I spin in his arms, allowing our kiss to deepen. He groans, his other hand moving to frame my face, cupping both sides of my jaw, and I’m lost. Totally and completely lost in him.

I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to.

So I won’t.

I’ll give in to whatever this is between us and pray to God it doesn’t take us both down in its fury.

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