Page 80 of Beneath the Hood

She giggles and it lights up my insides.

Slapping my chest, she pecks my mouth, her hand reaching up and scratching at the stubble on my jaw. “I’m serious.”

I shrug. “I just want my cars in the movies. That’s what my dad always dreamed of. What we always talked about.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle. “Well, you’re already doing that.”

“This is true.” My palm slides up her thigh, pushing her back until she’s flat against the couch, my body leaning over hers, my nose skimming along the expanse of her neck. Arousal jolts through me.

“Are we done talking now?” I whisper, my breath causing goose bumps to sprout along her skin.

She tilts her head to the side, my cock hardening as I drop my hips between her legs.

“Yeah,” she gasps. “We’re done talking.”

“ThankGod.” Our lips fuse together, my heart cracking open, happiness filling every cell.

I told her everything. And she’s still here.

She’s still choosingme.

37

Blakely

Ilove him.

Those are the only thoughts flowing through my brain as his tongue swirls around mine. That I love him, and it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt. That in a world of superficial, he’s my authenticity.

The feeling wraps around me like a cocoon and I burrow myself inside of his embrace, hoping he never lets me go. Hoping that maybe, if I stay here long enough, he’ll transform me into something beautiful.

His arms tighten around my waist, and even through the fabric of our clothes the way his erection presses against my core has tingles lancing through my body.

I’ve never had anyone who made me feel so drunk on lust. Maybe that’s why I’ve held on to my virginity for as long as I have—because there’s never been someone around who’s made me want to give it up. There’s been guys before, I’m not completely innocent, but I learned young that the majority of people are only in my life for what they can get, and my purity was something I could hold on to, make sure it was one thing they couldn’t have.

I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather give it to than Jackson.

Lifting up my leg, I throw it over his waist, grinding my pelvis into him. He groans, his hips speeding up as they roll against mine.

A rush of power shoots through my body. It’smemaking him this way.I’mthe one taking up his heart, body, and soul in this moment. But I have no clue what the hell I’m doing. Insecurity spills into my excitement as I think back to all of the times I used to thrive by pushing his buttons, watching him war with himself as I made dirty comments and flirtatious advances. Like everything else in my life, it was just for show. I never would have expected it to turn into this, and I hope he’s not disappointed.

Sucking his bottom lip into my mouth, my hand travels down his stomach until I reach the thick outline of him through his jeans.

“I want to taste you,” I moan.

His fingers flex against my waist. “Jesus, Blake.”

Surging forward, I push until he’s lying flat on the couch while I hover over his body. I lave kisses along his neck, my hands skimming the hem of his shirt. His chest rises and falls against my breasts, his palms tracing the length of my spine.

Slowly, I lift his shirt until it’s off, throwing it to the side. The silver metal of his necklace glints as it jostles against his chest and I lean in, noticing for the first time that they’re dog tags. My heart squeezes, realizing they’re his father’s.

A rush of warmth expands in my chest when I think about how open he was. How much trust he put in me—in us—when he cut himself open and showed me his past.

My lips dive back in, working their way down his chest. His abs contort when my mouth brushes over them and my core clenches, satisfaction blasting its way through me at how his body responds to my touch.

It’s a heady feeling, having the person who is your pillar of strength be at your mercy.

I go to work on his belt, the metal buckle cold against my fingers.

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