I can taste the desperation on her tongue, feel the way she melts against me like she's trying to crawl inside my skin.My hands find her waist, and suddenly I'm lifting her up, her legs wrapping around me as I press her back against the Mustang's warm metal.The metal is sun-heated against my palms where I brace her, and she gasps at the contact, the sound shooting straight through me like lightning.
My fucking heart stammers in my chest.
This, her, it's addicting.
Every kiss, every touch, every breath she takes against my neck—it's all rewiring something fundamental in my brain.Making me forget about corrupt cops and missing files and the fact that my family's at war with itself.
There's only this: her fingers in my hair, her mouth on mine, the way she makes these small sounds that drive me completely insane.The way she arches into me, the soft catch in her breathing, the heat of her skin through her shirt—it's overwhelming and not nearly enough all at once.
But reality creeps back in.I'm covered in grease and motor oil, and this garage—with its concrete floors and tool-stained workbenches—isn't where I want this to happen.
I pull back, breathing hard.
"I'm dirty.And this isn't the place where I want to do this with you."
She looks at me with this expression I've never seen before—bold and knowing and a little bit dangerous.Her pupils are dilated, her lips swollen from my mouth, and there's something fierce and wild in her eyes that makes my blood run hot.
"I don't mind getting a little dirty."
I stare at her, genuinely confused."Where is Leni and what have you done with her?"
She laughs, but there's steel underneath it.
"I'm not a kid anymore, Nate.You don't have to be so delicate with me."Her chin tilts up, defiant."I'm tough."
"I know you are," I say, and I mean it."Believe me, I know."
"Besides," she says, her voice dropping to something that makes the heat pool low in my stomach, her fingers trailing down my chest, leaving trails of fire through my shirt, "I kinda really like you dirty."
She bites her lower lip, and I watch, transfixed, as her tongue darts out to soothe the spot.
When she leans in, her breath hot against my ear, I can smell her shampoo mixed with the faint scent of her skin, and it's intoxicating.
"You, covered in motor oil and grease.It’s annoyingly hot."
When she kisses my jaw, then moves to my neck, I feel whatever control I had left start to slip away.Her mouth is warm and soft and fuck, the things she's doing with her tongue?—
"Upstairs," I manage, my voice coming out rough."Now."
I grab her hand and pull her toward the house, my heart hammering against my ribs.Her fingers are small and warm in mine, and she's practically vibrating with nervous energy.
Every few steps, she tugs me back, pressing quick kisses to my jaw, my neck, anywhere she can reach, and by the time we hit the stairs, I'm ready to lose my fucking mind.
I lead her the rest of the way upstairs, our footsteps soft on the wooden floor.She's breathing hard behind me, and I can hear the little catch in each exhale that tells me she wants this as much as I do.
When I turn to look at her at the top of the stairs, her eyes are dark with want.
Guess I’m really fucked now then, huh?
Because the most dangerous drug I know has green eyes and a heartbeat.
And I'm completely, utterly fucking addicted.
CHAPTER21
GUILT IS A HELL OF A THING
NORA
