Page 2 of Fueled Fury

Moving to the side, I step forward as he shifts in front of me, blocking my getaway.

“Just leave me alone.” I avoid his gaze because I know as much as I want to push him away, I have no willpower when it comes to Austin Hale.

Reaching forward, he places his palm on my thigh, slowly gliding upward until his hand slips under the towel. His rough touch rubs along my damp skin as he moves closer, pressing his body against mine, his lips almost meeting mine. “I know that’s not what you want.”

“Yes. It is,” I whisper, unable to focus on anything other than him. His warm breath floating over my mouth, his heavenly scent surrounding me, his touch consuming me.

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?” Austin asks with amusement that pisses me off even further.

Because I’m a fucking idiot. I knew it then and I know it now as he shifts slightly, his lips trailing lightly along my jaw before his tongue darts out, eagerly trailing down my neck as my fingers clutch his shoulders, holding on for dear life. But that’s pointless, there’s no holding onto him.

His strong hand grips my bare ass, and his hard cock presses into me through his jeans as the lusty fog clears from my brain.

“No. I can’t do this.” I shove against his chest with one hand as the other clings to the towel. As I step to the side, his fingers roughly grip my wrist, so I whip my head around to look back to him. “Let. Me. Go.”

“I tried.” The strain in his tone isn’t lost on me as he finally releases his physical grip on me—the internal grip, not so much. It’s still firmly in place, rigidly seizing my heart.

“Try harder.” Am I telling him that or myself? Either way, we both should heed the advice.

His haunted expression is quickly masked by a menacing look as he says, “You’ll be begging for it harder soon enough.”

There it is. The reminder of what an asshat he is. And why allowing us to be more than friends last summer was my biggest mistake yet. “Don’t hold your breath. On second thought … please do hold it, because nothing is gonna happen.”

“Did you tell him about us?” Austin asks, but he already knows the answer.

“No, because there is no us.”

He tsk-tsks, shaking his head as he says, “Lying to your best friend and yourself.”

“Fuck off, dickhead.” I stand rigid, watching as he snickers while stepping back before finally leaving my bedroom.

Hurrying across the hardwood, I twist the lock on my doorknob as I close my door and step back, my eyes never leaving it as I back away until the back of my knees hit the bed. Sitting down, I hold the towel to me. That lock won’t keep him out if he’s determined to come back. Nothing will keep Austin out when he wants in. I know that better than anyone. All I can hope is he’s only here for the night to see Eli or something. But I know better.

Grabbing my phone, I send a quick message to Eli.

Me: Just wanted to let you know Austin is here.

Trying to sound nonchalant is harder than expected when it comes to Austin, but I don’t want to say anything wrong even though I really want to beg Eli to come back home. There’s no way he knew Austin was coming. He would’ve stayed home or mentioned it. The brothers can’t stand to be in each other’s sight, but I know Eli wouldn’t have left me alone to deal with the jerk. He probably thinks what I’d believed to be true up until a few moments ago—that Austin was living it up at Florida State University many miles away from Sunland, Texas. Even though it never felt far enough, at least he was in a different state. Now, we’re under the same roof.

Hurrying around the room, I quickly pull on some pajamas while constantly checking my phone, not finding any return messages from Eli.

I debate calling Eli or messaging Hannah but decide against it. It’s nothing. Maybe Austin’s already left since his brother isn’t here. That’s what I tell myself as I settle on the bed and unsuccessfully attempt to fall asleep. What did I expect with the grim moron lurking nearby? If he hasn’t left yet or doesn’t leave soon, the race at the Dome won’t be the only race I’ll have to worry about. I’ll be running one off the track as well. And for that, I don’t have any of the skills or tools needed to cross the finish line.