I had never experienced anything like this.

This guy had just said some of the most honest—a bit crass at times—and extremely romantic things to me, and I could only gape.

Then I lunged for him. My hands found his head, and my mouth was on his.

Someone growled (that was me) and he said, “Hell yeah.”

He moved his seat backward and brought me over to straddle him. I went right to grinding on him, and his hands moved inside my shirt. His fingers found my breasts as our tongues began a dance together.

I was buzzing for him.

My vagina was singing a melody.

I just wanted him.

“Shit, babe,” he whispered against my mouth, but I soon shut him up.

He was quiet for a long time, and I was blind with emotion. It pulsated through me. Need. Want. Desire. And when I felt his fingers moving inside of me, I hissed like I’d just gotten water after seven days of thirst.

It felt so fucking good.

I rode his hand, and he groaned, moving me until his fingers were so deep that I threw my head back, my hips blindly answering that need to explode. And then I did, and I was a mess. I came apart, literally. I started crying on his lap.

“Hey. Hey.” He ran his free hand over my face, sliding my hair from my cheeks. His voice was so soft and tender, crooning to me as if I were a broken baby bird. I couldn’t handle it. A whole other burst of sobs erupted from me, and he cursed and undid his seatbelt.

Yeah. That’d all transpired with his seatbelt in place.

“Come on.” He lifted me in his arms, guiding me to the backseat.

I climbed back there and waited in a corner until he was next to me. He scooped me up, bringing me back to his lap, and he folded himself around me, kissing little kisses under my chin.

“What’s wrong?”

I kept crying, but the part of my brain that was still operating knew he hadn’t gotten off, and I reached for his jeans. I started to unzip them, but he grabbed my hand with a soft chuckle.

“If you think I’m going to let you touch me when you’re sobbing, think again. I’m not that kind of guy.” He nuzzled my neck and pushed some more of my hair back. “Come on. Tell me what’s going on. Who do I need to beat up? I’ll do it. I’ll even call Bren to help. I think she has a woman crush on you. She’s pretty fierce about you not being hurt.”

I stopped crying, his words surprising me. “What?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, his eyes darkening. “Cross warned me, said Bren only cares about five people. And if I hurt you, she’s going to slice me.”

“What?!”

“You didn’t know? She’s scary. Zeke’s got a hard-on for her because she’s so scary. He actually likes when people challenge him.”

Oh God. Now he was talking about his best friend! Anxiety spiked my pulse, and he felt it. He smoothed his hand up under my shirt, laying it over my heart. “What’s this about?”

I shifted on his lap, trying to slide off, but he tightened his hold.

“Tell me,” he nudged.

I opened my mouth. What was I going to say?

Then I just blurted it out. “I have self-esteem issues.”

He frowned, his head resting against the seat. “Everyone does, don’t they?”

I shook my head, focusing on his chest. I couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. I grabbed his shirt, fisting it. “Not like me. Not like… I hide from people, but it’s not because of them. It’s just easier for me to handle life that way.”

I was horrified. I’d never actually thought about why I did things. I just did things. And yet I’d just explained it out loud. With Blaise coming into my life, things weren’t making sense anymore. I couldn’t stay like this if I was going to have him in my life. It wasn’t fair for him, for anyone.

I needed to make myself better.

“I went to therapy.” I looked up, and I almost fell apart, seeing the somberness in his gaze. “When my parents sent us to Hillcrest, I had problems. I don’t really remember everything I did, but they said I was dealing with some attachment issues. Then Nate left, and those issues came back, but I didn’t tell my parents. The only person who knew was Owen.”

“How old were you when that happened?”

I was too young. “Seventh grade.”

There was more, more that I didn’t want to talk about.

I sagged on his lap, resting against his chest. I felt his fingers sliding through my hair, smoothing down my back.

I spoke into his shirt. “I have problems believing people want to be around me. And, something else happened.”

Blaise went rigid.

I didn’t like talking about this, but he had to know. He had to know to understand.

“Aspen?” His voice was so soft.

It was my undoing.

“Aspen, what happened?”

I couldn’t look at him. I kept looking at at his shirt. It was safe there, no judgement there.

“Aspen?”

“It’s nothing like what you’re thinking.” I looked up. I had to. He had to see.

His eyes grew soft, matching his voice. “I don’t think you know what I’m thinking.”

Yeah. True.

“There was a teacher once. She—uh—they told me later that she was unhinged. I don’t remember her like that, but she was my teacher.” This was hurting. Seriously hurting. “She, just, she started asking me questions about my parents, personal questions. She asked about Nate. She asked a lot, and then one day, my parents pulled me from Hillcrest. I went to a school in Europe for a while.”

His eyebrows dipped. “Why Europe?”

“They told me later that she had made threats against me. She was trying to get money from my parents. I got sent away when it started. There was a whole investigation launched, and she was fired, but she was popular with the other students. They blamed me, and when I came back, it didn’t go away for a long time.”

God.

That hurt.

My chest felt ripped open.

Saying those words, hearing them, I was embarrassed.

“Hey.” He leaned back, tipping my head up. His eyes were fierce, his mouth set in a determined line. “The teacher thing is messed up. You know that wasn’t your fault. Right?”

I nodded. “I know.”

But the effect didn’t go away.

He sighed. “You’re not saying, but I can only imagine what the others said to you, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry you went through that.” He cupped the side of my face and leaned forward, his forehead resting against mine. “I can’t speak for what happened to you in the past, but I can speak for now. I will be a dick. Okay? Like, full disclosure here. I know I will be a dick, because I just am. I will try not to be. I never want to hurt you, but it’s my default setting. So far I’m not that guy with you, and I will always try to be better. I’m sure I’ll slip and the D will come out. Having said that, I’m an honest dick, so if I skate on you or leave you and you’re feeling your stuff about me, ask me. Okay? I will be honest. You never have to worry or wonder where I am. I’m brutally honest, though maybe that’s a good thing with you and me, huh?”

I grasped his wrist. My heart pounding harder, more sure. “Do you promise? You’ll always be honest?”

“I will, even if it hurts you. I’ll be honest.”

He wasn’t telling me pretty, fake words. He wasn’t saying he’d always be there for me. He wasn’t saying he’d never leave, but honesty was big. I could work with honesty. I could handle the truth, no matter how much his answer might hurt.

I breathed out a shaky breath. “You can’t ghost me.”

“I won’t do that. I promise. Call, text, and if I’m able, I will respond. I can promise you that much.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

His thumb traced my bottom lip. His other hand had remained between our bodies, resting just inside my jeans, and now he began tracing under my thong. He had me squirming within a beat, and he grinned, leaning forward to nip at my lips.

He groaned. “I think I’m obsessed with your body.”

I let out an abrupt laugh. He’d said he’d be honest. But I could handle that, and I stopped thinking, closing the distance until my mouth was over his. He maneuvered himself to lie on top of me, and I liked it.

Oh yes. I liked this a whole lot.

21

Blaise

This was ridiculous. I was a horny guy in heat, like, twenty-four-seven.

I couldn’t even take my girl—and I couldn’t believe I was already calling her that—to dinner at a restaurant.

I wanted to touch her all the time.

I wanted to kiss her all the time.

I wanted in her pants super bad, but I was also enjoying just giving her lots of orgasms.

We did actually make it to her camping store later, and I loved that she was looking for a security system, because that meant she was thinking of my concern. But I was also distracted every time she made a sound.

She was cute.

Every new item she saw, she fell in love with, and my dick tried to grow into its own zip code. Every time she smiled, even when she was confused by something, she was adorable. She looked amazing walking around in those tight jeans, her simple tank, and I knew how those nipples tasted and felt. I could see they were hard for me, and every time I saw another guy checking her out, I gave him the look I reserved for people I wanted to murder. She couldn’t figure out why no store attendants came over to help her. They were all dudes, and they weren’t stupid. They saw how I wanted to rip their heads off.