“Let go of me, Tucker” she cried, but at the same time, leaned back into him.
When she did, he wrapped his arm further around her waist and held on tight. “Don’t walk away from me,” he murmured.
“You can’t do this. Jace—”
“He knows why I’m here.”
Tucker maneuvered h
er out of the crowd and off to the side, out of the way of the mass of people.
He spun her around against the tile wall, bringing his hand up to caress her face. He’d been dreaming about this too long. It was time to make his dreams a reality. He looked into her eyes, which were darting back and forth between his and his mouth.
“Blythe,” he said again before he covered her lips with his. His other arm wrapped around her waist, and he held her as close to him as he could.
She wasn’t fighting against him—she wasn’t trying to stop their kiss. Slowly, the hands that had been stiff against him held on tight instead. She gripped the front of his shirt, digging her fingers into his chest.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her toward the door leading outside the coliseum.
“No,” she might not be able to resist him, but she was not leaving. “I’m here to watch Billy and Jace ride. I’m not going anywhere with you. If you want to see me, you’ll have to stay here.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah? You puttin’ your foot down?”
She smiled. She didn’t want to, but when Tucker did, she couldn’t help herself. When he went from thundercloud broody to hot as the summer sun, there was nothing she could do but melt under the heat of him.
“Yeah,” she answered. “I am.” She shimmied away from him but took his hand as she did.
“Where you takin’ me, girl?”
“We have an extra seat. It’s your lucky night,” she murmured.
He released her hand as they merged into the crowd and planted his hands on her hips. He held on tight, and when she turned, his hand cupped her bottom. When she swatted at him, he squeezed tighter.
“You want my hands all over you, don’t you, Blythe?”
“I see you didn’t leave your arrogance in Spain.”
He laughed. Blythe pushed his buttons, every one of them, in all the right ways.
“You remember Renie,” Blythe said when they got to the seats. “And this is Lyric Simmons.”
Tucker was polite and said hello, but his gaze lingered on Blythe. Even when they sat, he couldn’t look away. He’d pictured her in his mind; he’d painted her from his memory, but now she was next to him. He wanted to do nothing but soak in the sight of her.
“You’re making me uncomfortable,” she whispered.
“I don’t care.” His eyes trailed from hers, over her body. “You wouldn’t leave with me, so you’ll have to deal with the fact that I can’t take my eyes off of you. I thought about you every minute, Blythe. Every minute.”
Her eyes closed, longer than a blink. Her cheeks flushed. He leaned over and put his lips where he watched the pulse of her heart beating, stronger and stronger the more he said.
“Oh my God,” she groaned. “You’ve made your point.” She moved away from him. “I told you I’m not leaving until Billy and Jace have ridden. The minute they have, we can go. Good enough?”
He answered her with a kiss—deep and hot enough that he was sure he was making everyone around them as uncomfortable as he was making her. He didn’t care.
7
Jace wanted to slam his hand into the nearest wall, but it was concrete, so he pulled his punch right before it made contact. Goddamn Tucker.
Part of him wanted to storm out, throw his hands in the air, and quit. But that wasn’t who he was. He’d wanted to ride for Blythe tonight, show her how hard he’d been working at this. Make her proud. Now he doubted she’d be paying attention anyway.