Page 130 of That Girl is Trouble

I want to look away, because a deep heat clenches in my stomach, and my balls tighten. My body is readying to explode, and her face, the way it looks when I’m fucking her, god, it’s got me teetering on the edge. I wanna make this last, but I’ve gone without this for too goddam long, and it’s taking everything in me not to come.

“Kat,” I groan, gripping her hips to slow her.

But she only smiles at me. I’m not sure what she sees, but I’m hanging on by a goddamn thread, and I think she might be enjoying it.

Slap.

I slam my hand down hard on her ass. My palm tingles at the contact, and she gasps in surprise, but she goes from wet to soaked the moment I lay down my brand of hurt on her skin. It only makes my control fray further. Kat is fucking dripping, and I won’t fucking last much longer.

I inhale a deep swell of air into my lungs and pull her closer so my lips are at her ear. “You got five seconds to come, Kitty,” I murmur.

She tenses in response, her pace picking up as she slides her hand between her legs.

“Five,” I say.

She curves her body back, her fingers twirling circles around her clit.

“Four.”

I’m not sure if she hears me over the music, but she bounces on my dick. Faster, harder. Draining every ounce of my resolve.

“Three.”

Her eyes close, and her moans get louder. I hang on for dear life.

“Two.”

She says my name. And fuck, it’s the most beautiful sound. Another curse comes from the driver’s seat, and the truck takes a sharp turn, veering onto the gravel shoulder, tires spinning out as Preacher loses control.

“One.”

Kat comes, just like I told her to, the walls of her cunt clenching down hard as I finally let go of my release and spill inside her, squeezing her body tight to mine as I steady against the truck still skidding over the gravel.

Preacher swears again as the truck comes to a sudden stop. He throws the door open and jumps out, slamming it hard and then disappearing around the back.

Face flushed, Kat looks over my shoulder and laughs before turning the radio down low. “Think he’s going to jerk off?”

I chuckle as I pull her closer. “Better hope not for his sake. You cross his mind when he’s fucking his hand, and I’ll cut it off.”

Kat refastens her bra and pulls up her dress, then wiggles like she’s going to move off me, but I pull her back down.

“Just one more second,” I say, dropping my head to her chest.

I missed this too. The after. Kat’s hair a mess because I like to pull on it. Her skin red because I dig my fingers into her hips too hard or slap her ass too many times. Her chest and face flushed. Her gloss on my lips. And her heart. I like what it sounds like when it starts to slow down. The feel of her body when she’s coming off a high and her adrenaline is starting to calm.

She pulls me into a hug. I’m vaguely aware of Preacher sitting on his tailgate smoking, but I stay like this with her as long as I feel like, just soaking in the beat of her heart as she combs her fingers through my hair that’s gotten too long but that she says she likes.

It hasn’t been long enough, but after several minutes, I finally let her go. She plants a chaste kiss on my lips before pushing off and settling in the seat next to me.

Dropping her head to my shoulder, she sighs. “I love you,” she whispers. There’s something hidden in her tone, the thing we haven’t talked about because there wasn’t much time after I got arrested. The two-year-old elephant in the room that left a scar on my shoulder and a notch in her heart. I would’ve died that night, had I not seen her standing in that field, her tear-filled eyes on me, the red and blue lights flashing across her face. I went in because of her. Because leaving her, taking my last breath without touching her again, without feeling the beat of her heart on my hand, would be worse than being thrown in a cage. A torture I couldn’t endure.

She knows it. I know it.

I wrap my arm around her and press my lips to her head. “I love you too. Don’t think you understand how much.”

She’s silent for a beat, and then she asks. “Do you… blame me?”

“I made a choice.”

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