Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3)
“Shh. Shh. Shh.”
“—babe the other night.”
My face felt hot.
Just as I was finding my footing, he pulled the rug out from under me again. He’d opened the box filled with our dark secrets from that night. We weren’t supposed to talk about it until X amount of days had passed or some bullshit rule someone had made up that I was totally willing to follow if it would save me from this.
Too late.
I was engaging with a player who broke every rule in the game.
“I called you babe that night as an insult.”
His thumb grazed the corner of his mouth, going back and forth, back and forth, as if he was contemplating something.
“Tell me,” he started. A small smile appeared on his lips. And still, he kept rubbing. “Did you kiss me that night as an insult too?”
Oh, he did not just go there.
If I were a volcano, my lava would have been all over him by now.
“Because,” he continued, looking at me like he wanted to eat me in one big bite, “I want more.”
Oh, no, no, no. He’s not doing this to me again.
I blinked rapidly, shaking my head. Resetting it.
Focus. Call upon your inner Jedi. She’s in there somewhere.
“Is that why you reached for my zipper the first chance you got?” I shot back. “I mean, that was my first kiss!”
His eyes widened in surprise.
Aha! Finally!
But at what cost to me? I didn’t mean to blurt that out. I had just handed him another golden weapon he could use against me.
“I’m not sorry about that night, Spitfire,” he said.
Spitfire. That nickname he’d given me the first time we met. It felt…funny, like a tickle in my belly, hearing him say it again.
My arms started to hurt. I realized I was still gripping the steering wheel. I let my arms fall to my sides and slumped back against the seat.
“But I am sorry for…going too fast.” He looked down, hiding his face from me. “I’m not used to taking it slow.” When he turned his gaze on me, the full power of his eyes penetrated my shield. “Next time, babe, we do what you want, when you want it,” he said with a huskiness in his tone that made me shiver. It felt like a promise.
Holy smokes. My face felt hot again, and it was dangerously and quickly spreading throughout my body. I wanted to bite my lip, but I was afraid he would be able to tell that I was…turned on.
No! I was not turned on.
I leaned away as far as I could, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
His scent had taken over every bit of air space in this car. It was drowning me. I opened the window a crack. Better.
“We have”—I cleared my throat—“to discuss this deal. I’m not going to be at your beck and call just because you need a ride. I have a lot of responsibilities.”
“Give me your class schedule.”
“You’re not getting my class schedule. What are you, my keeper?”