Page 133 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

That same sexy grin reappears with a vengeance, turning my insides into mush as he steps closer, pinning me between the car and his own hot chest. I grab the edge of his leather jacket for balance, using my opposite hand to twist his hat around until the brim faces backward.

So. Damn. Sexy.

“And now?” he challenges.

“Now…” I tug him closer, loving our height difference more than ever. His lips are almost on mine. But he doesn’t kiss me. He’s letting me take the lead. And I’m not ready to put us out of our misery. Not yet.

My tongue darts out between my lips, wetting my bottom lip and pulling a low groan from Theo. I whisper, “Now, I’m going to touch you as much as I want, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His laugh is low and throaty. The sound shoots straight to my core. “Not a thing, huh?”

“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’ at the end, closing the last bit of distance as I rise onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his.

His mouth is hot. Minty. Addictive. He drags the tip of his tongue against the seam of my lips, urging me to open for him. But instead of obeying, I settle my heels back onto the ground and give him a coy smile.

“There.” I pat his chest. “That’ll hold me over.”

I start to slip into his car, but he grabs my waist and spins me around, pushing my back into the closed rear door.

“I think the door swings both ways, Baby Thorne. If you get to touch me whenever you want, I should be allowed to do the same, right?”

He grabs my wrists and twists them behind me until they’re resting between my lower back and the car’s cold metal frame. The stark contrast is dizzying, heightening my nerves and adrenaline. If Theo were anyone else, I’d knee him in the balls, but this? This game? This teasing? Especially when it’s combined with the years of pent-up lust and attraction I’ve been fighting? It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

“Are you pushing me, Theo?” I ask.

“Do you like being pushed, Blakely?”

I bite my lower lip. My attention slides from his dark blue eyes to his mouth only inches from mine. So. Damn. Close. I can almost taste him. Maybe it’s the lingering mint on my tongue from moments ago. Maybe it’s his breath swirling with my own in what little space is between us.

Regardless, I want it.

His mouth on mine.

His hands on my wrists.

Arching my back, I press into him, and his hard length grazes my stomach, causing my breath to hitch.

Yeah.

I want it all.

All of him.

He slips his thigh between my parted legs, pressing it against me. Against the ache in my core. I nearly buckle from the pressure, but Theo keeps me pinned in place. Like I’m weightless. I roll my hips slightly. Hell, it’s barely even a roll. More like a tiny shift. But it’s enough. Enough to steal my breath. Enough to light the spark between us. Enough to give me the friction I crave.

Growling low in his throat, Theo lets go of my wrists with one hand and grabs my throat. Then his mouth is on mine. Taking. Owning. He swallows my moan as he presses his knee against me again. My clit throbs with the friction, and I open my mouth wider, letting Theo fuck my mouth with his tongue. But it’s good. Oh, so good. I grab his ass and pull him closer, my desperation making me way too needy on my own freaking driveway. But I don’t care. Not anymore. Not when I’ve spent years holding back. Years telling myself I don’t want Theo. I don’t need Theo. I don’t crave Theo.

Bullshit.

Theo’s grip on my throat squeezes for a split second as if he can’t help himself. He lets me go and cups my breast over my shirt, but it isn’t enough. I need more. I need him.

“Theo,” I whimper, grabbing his wrist and pushing my boob into his hand like I can’t get enough.

And I can’t.

Not when it comes to him.

He swallows my voice with his mouth, kissing me harder as his opposite hand unbuttons my jeans and slides down. When his hand cups my sex, I moan, well aware of how drenched I must feel. Hell, I’m soaking. He rests his forehead against mine, his breathing more staggered as he slips his index finger inside of me.

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