I do work hard to stay in shape, but more than that, working out does wonders for my mental health. “I hit the gym most days, and Ezra and I play basketball when we can.” I shrug. “What about you?”
“What about me?” She tilts her head to the side and leans back against a boulder.
“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
Playing her little game, I stalk up to her and drag a hand from the top of her shoulder to her wrist. Dipping low so mymouth is at her ear, I cup her ass and squeeze. “How do you keep this ass so fucking tight?” I croon.
Without missing a beat, she sings right back. “By fucking hot guys like you.”
I’m hit with a burst of pride, but it’s immediately followed by an urge to possess her. “There’s only one hot guy, Joey,” I growl. “And that’s me. Got it?”
The spark that arcs between us any time we’re close is so damn electric it can’t be ignored. There’s no way she doesn’t feel it, too, especially with the way she presses her breasts against me.
The tingling sensation in my stomach that appears in her proximity intensifies when she pulls back and licks her lips.
Bold and seductive, she brushes her fingers down my arm. “Yes, sir.”
Heart lodging in my throat, I grasp her hand and hold it close; I would permanently glue it to my chest if I could.
“You drive me fucking crazy, Josefine,” I say into the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.
I drag my lips along her jaw and ghost them over her lips, teasing her for a moment before sinking into them.
She tugs on my bottom lip with her teeth and releases, then slips her tongue inside my mouth. The heat behind her kiss singes through my veins. I let my water bottle fall to the ground with aclangand grasp her waist. Her shirt is damp with sweat and her kisses are salty. With her arms draped around my neck, she devours me, shattering me and putting me back together at the same time. Yet I still demand more.
There’s a dizzying current racing between us, but after a moment, Joey breaks the spell and pulls away. I stumble forward, eager to share the same breath with her again.
“You should stay hydrated.” With a wink, she bends to pick up my water bottle.
I take it from her and adjust myself with my free hand.Knowing if we don’t move on to other topics I won’t be able to keep my hands off her, I take a long pull of my water, then a couple of deep breaths. “What was your dad like?” I try again.
She draws her sunglasses from her backpack and puts them on like she’s using them for more than just protection from the sun.
I anticipate a generic description. Something along the lines of “He was kind… had a good job and supported our family…” The stock description for the middle-class father figure.
But with a vulnerability so out of character for the fierce woman I’ve spent the last couple of days with, she says, “He was the best,” choking over the words.
I toss her a microfiber towel from my backpack, and though I thought she could use it to wipe her welling tears, she stubbornly pats at the sweat on her neck and brow before giving in and dabbing at the corners of her eyes.
“He loved surprising me. One day, on the way to school, the radio DJs announced that a local band I loved was doing a meet and greet at a record store nearby that afternoon. I nearly broke my seat belt as I wiggled so spastically in my seat. I wanted to meet them so badly, but I didn’t dare ask to skip school, and Dad had a big showing scheduled for that day. But just before the lunch bell rang, I was called to the school office.” She tosses my towel back and takes a long swig of water, eyes closed.
I steal those few seconds to study her. The flush in her cheeks, the way her neck elongates when she drinks, the sweat glistening on her chest and disappearing behind her shirt.
She swallows and wipes her lips with the back of her hand. “I thought for sure I was in trouble, although I’d never done anything to warrant a visit with the principal. Kind of like how, as an adult, I’d never even consider transporting heroin—hell, I’ve never even seen it—yet when I’m at the airport and spot a police K-9, I instinctively pat my pocketsjust in case.” She laughs.
“I do that too,” I snicker. “As if today is the day I forgot I’m smuggling drugs up my ass.”
“Right?” She slaps a hand on her knee.
For a heartbeat, I can’t do anything but stare at her toned thigh. So badly, I want to run a hand up her leg, tease the frayed hem of her… I clear my throat to shake away the fog of lust I can’t seem to escape. “So, the principal’s office?”
“Right. I get there, and my dad is standing by the front desk. My first thought was that something happened to my mom or my aunt, and I started to panic, but then I really looked at his face, and his enormous grin calmed me. He grabbed my backpack, thanked the people in the office, and led me out the door. He ignored my incessant questions, and it was only when we were in the car that he told me we were headed to the meet and greet. I’ve never screamed so loud in my life.”
The pure joy on Joey’s face makes my chest feel tight. Damn, seeing this side of her only makes me want to keep her more.
“What about your mom?” I dare to ask.
All at once, her expression falls. She swallows thickly, then returns her water bottle to her bag, slings the strap over her shoulder, and heads down the trail. “What about her?”
