“I don’t even know what is normal anymore.” I sigh, letting my head fall back against the headrest as my eyelids flutter closed.
“Strictly professional. We’ll give the illusion that there’s nothing happening.” He motions between us as I turn my head in his direction and frown.
“No, thank you.”
“It’s one day,” he tells me, a sexy grin on his filthy mouth—the one that had devoured me until I came all over his face before leaving the cabin.
Twice.
And then he fucked me on the counter for old times’ sake—because apparently that’s our thing—and I don’t hate it.
“It’s going to be a long day.”
“It will be regardless, but I promise to make it up to you tomorrow after the event.”
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I ask the question I’ve been too afraid to voice. “Do you really think all this will be over tomorrow?”
“That’s what we’re preparing for.” He brushes a stray lock of hair back from my face.
“But you don’t know.”
“Nothing is ever foolproof.”
“This is why I like writing. I make the rules. I know the outcome, and even when my characters go rogue, I’m still the one putting the words on the page.”
“There’s no rule book for this kind of thing, Kat. We can only speculate what someone’s motives are. They don’t need to make sense to us. We just need to figure out enough and then do everything in our power to prevent anyone from getting hurt because of it.”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“You already got hurt, Kat. I won’t let it happen again.” His words have warmth blooming in my chest as I blink back tears. “Don’t do that,” he whispers, wiping the lone tear that snakes down my cheek.
“It’s hard feeling so lucky and thankful this happened but also being forced to acknowledge how terrifying it’s been too.”
“I’d give anything to go back so you weren’t in that car by yourself.”
“If it wasn’t that, it would have been something else. Their behavior has escalated just like you said.”
“I hate being right all the time.” He smiles, slow and seductive as he reaches over the center console to cup my cheek and pull me in for a kiss.
There’s not a retort worth making when all I can think about is the feeling of his tongue sliding against mine. I’ve never beenloved so thoroughly. And maybe this isn’t exactly love just yet, but it’s getting there.
I’ve written characters falling in love in a couple of weeks, the traumas they face bonding them so completely it’s like they’ve spent a lifetime getting to know each other when it’s only the blink of an eye.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” His thumb smooths the space between my eyebrows as I lean into his touch.
“Feeling so connected to you and wondering if it’s real or if it’s because we’ve been in this whirlwind of high-intensity chaos.”
“I can’t speak for you.” His words are measured. Intentional. “But I can assure you, this is very real for me.” Pressing a kiss to my lips, he sighs. “And while I’d love to be able to reassure you of that completely…”
“We don’t have time.”
“We do not.”
“Fine.” Grumbling, I unclip my seat belt and wait patiently as Tom gets out and rounds the hood, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
His smile is bright when he pulls open my door, and my feet are barely on the pavement before his hands are buried in my hair and his tongue is forcing its way between my lips.
Oh God, this is good.
