Follow Me Back (Fight for Me 2)

The girl watched me through the shadows that jumped and danced against her bedroom walls while I stood there, taking her in, all lush milky skin and fiery red hair and hopeful, trusting eyes.

So damned gorgeous where she rested on her elbows with her knees bent and feet planted on the bed.

Rocking softly.

Touch me.

Love me.

Protect me.

Body singing with the appeal.

“If I sleep with you, there won’t be any going back for me, Kale Bryant. Don’t make me fall in love with you.”

Another shudder ripped through me at the thought because the way she was looking at me promised it was already too late.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked her, gritting my teeth, hands fisting in restraint.

“You already know my life is in turmoil.” Her words were wispy tendrils that left her sensuous mouth. “I hate that I’m dragging you into the middle of it, not knowing what’s going to happen. But if I’m sure of one thing? I’m sure of you.”

Heart clattering with her words, I tugged my shirt over my head and ticked through my fly, shoved down my jeans and underwear, shrugged them free of my feet.

Lust knotting my insides.

A needy sigh puffed from her lungs when she looked at me, those eyes wandering with a greedy awe as they roved over me. The girl doing her own claiming. Raking my chest. Moving down my abdomen, muscles flexing and bowing, taut with need.

Her attention dipped lower, those pink lips parting when she let her heated gaze trace over my cock.

I was hard.

So damned hard.

Harder than I’d ever been.

Because this felt different from anything I’d ever felt.

Her eyes flicked back up to mine, her words soft adoration. “How is it possible you’re standing there? You are magnificent, Kale Bryant. Better than any dream. Better than any fantasy. Inside and out.”

I didn’t know what it was about those words. But they crushed my reservations and made me forget any old devotion and any lingering fear.

Without thought, I was reaching down, fisting her underwear in my hands, dragging them down her gorgeous legs as I dipped over her to kiss at her belly.

She squirmed and sighed.

Body reaching for mine.

And I was wondering what it really meant to dream. To hold them and possess them and never give them up.

If she and Evan could possibly become the reason for mine.

Because my heart was careening in my chest, knocking at my ribs like some kind of beast when I climbed over her, when I made a spot for myself between her thighs.

Her pussy bare. Fire against my cock that barely kissed through the slick warmth of her lips. I hesitated for a second before she whispered, “I’m on the pill.”

I brushed my fingers through her hair, staring down at her. “Princess,” I murmured.

Her expression shifted, so soft and tender, voice sweet affection. “Hey, Cowboy.”

And fuck. I wanted to tell her I’d be her anything. Her cowboy or her knight when the only fucking thing I wanted was to be her hero.

She looped an arm around my neck, our chests pressed together, hearts beating wild against the other.

Little pants of anticipation escaped from her mouth.

“Are you ready for me?” I asked.

She blinked at me through the shadows, the fingertips of her free hand running the line of my jaw. “I think I’ve been ready for you my whole life.”

I grabbed the hand tracing my face, kissing her fingertips, her wrist, the inside of her forearm, hoping she knew that this meant something to me. That it was more. Then I hooked that arm around my neck, too. “Hold on to me, sweet girl.”

I edged back a fraction. Just enough that I could watch her while I began to tuck myself deep in the tight, clutching grasp of her body.

Her walls hugging my dick perfectly as I spread her.

Sweet, sweet heat.

“Fuck . . . Hope . . . baby.” It was all a guttural rasp from my mouth.

Heaven.

Didn’t think I’d ever touched on it until right then. Because she was warm and snug and felt a little too close to home. Like maybe this girl had been meant for me. Like right here . . . with her was exactly where I was supposed to be.

She sucked in a sharp gasp, and her chest arched into mine.

“Kale.” It was a shaky, unstable prayer.

Slipping my arms under her back, I gathered her tighter, wrapping her whole. Holding her as close as I could get her.

Our hearts battered against each other’s, almost frantically, and I swore, I could feel the beats catching time. “I know. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” I told her.

And that energy—that feeling that had made me stumble the first time I’d caught the full impact of her face back at the bar—it combusted.

I should have known it that night that she had the power to change everything.