Page 34 of Forever in the Country

“She’s got that douchebag boyfriend. It’s not the right time.” He looks over my shoulder as Sorren stalks across the parking lot, hands clenched at his sides. “Good luck with that. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” I huff. Turning, I get ready to lay into Sorren about being a jerk with no boundaries and havin’ no business following me here, but I don’t get the chance.

Strong, possessive hands cup my face as his mouth crashes over mine. He steals my unspoken words as his tongue battles for control. My hands grip his forearms, nails digging into his skin, as I try and steady myself against the way he’s trying to consume every ounce of my being.

No one in my entire life has kissed me like this.

And I don’t dare to hope that no one else will get the chance.

Sorren pulls away and meets my gaze, eyes blazing and wild, and it has a shiver racing down my spine because that look is a threat and a promise and I want it—all of it.

But I’m pissed.

“Go home, All-star,” he says but he never looks away from me.

Colt shifts on his feet. “Rhea, you good?”

“I’m fine,” I say as I try and fail to make my voice not sound breathy. He’s going to get the riot act when we get in the car, and by the slight tic of his jaw he knows it.

“Text me tomorrow and you can grab your stuff,” Colt says and I want to murder him for adding more fuel to the fire and turning this into something it’s not. I’d stayed at his house, yes, but he hadn’t even gotten there until today. Colt smiles at Sorren and I’m less inclined to save him if he keeps poking the man next to me.

Sorren rises to his full height as his hand trails down my arm to take my hand. They stare at each other, and I hate whatever pissing match is taking place because of me. Colt doesn’t need any added stress from me and Sorren needs to cut the shit.

“I will,” I say to Colt and then tug Sorren’s hand. “Let’s go.” He stares at the shortstop for the Illinois Blues for another moment before turning and leading me to the car.

When we reach the passenger door, I spin to face him and stab a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to show up and act like kissin’ me means something to you when we both know it doesn’t.”

Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, panic and sadness and absolute fury flood my veins. Sorren boxes me against the car, his body hard against mine—and that’s not the only thing.

His hips trap mine against the door, and there’s no hiding how turned on he is right now. God, how I want that to be for me.

“We’re going to talk, Sunshine, and you’re going to seeexactlyhow I feel about you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

His hand moves from where it rests beside me to the column of my neck. His touch is gentle as he watches his fingers slide down before they fan out at the base of my throat. His thumb brushes over the notch of my collarbone.

“You wore this for him.”

The white V-neck sundress is pretty but not revealing, and I like the way it looks against my tan.

“I wore it for me,” I say honestly, but not daring to move.

“For you,” he says, looking at his hand before his gaze slowly drags over my face and finally meets my eyes. My heart hammers in my chest and I know he can feel it—see it—sense it. “What would you wear for me?”

The question catches me off guard because I’m so wrapped up in the very real desire emanating from him. This dangerous seduction is uncharted territory, and I hate that I like it.

I’m pissed and angry and embarrassed by how turned on I am. I’ve never been into thetouch her and diething but I can definitely see the appeal in this moment.

“You don’t get to ask me that,” I say evenly, and I’m proud I’m able to deliver the words so calmly when I’m anything but on the inside.

“Oh but I do.”

His hand travels back up my throat, coming to rest just under my jaw. He grips the side of my neck as his thumb traces over my bottom lip. My tongue peeks out and swipes the pad of his finger. His eyes darken and they look almost black this far away from the streetlight.

“Get in the car, Sunshine, because I plan to share you with absolutely no one.” We stare at each other for another minute before he’s pushing off me and moving me over enough to open the door. Dazed, I slide into the passenger seat without argument and buckle my seatbelt.

He stalks around the hood of the car before dropping into the driver’s seat. His door slams as the engine roars to life. Not that I’ll admit this to him now but this car issexywith the black on black and the leather seats. I’ve ridden in it before, but something about tonight makes it feel different.

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