I press my lips together and clutch the back of her shirt. “I wish I’d told you sooner.”
“We had our own shit to work out before that could happen,” she says. “And I think for two extremely fucked up individuals”—she smirks, and I chuckle low, pulling her closer—“we did the best we could.”
I kiss her chin and say against her skin, “You’re right. So fucking smart.” I move to kiss her neck, reveling in the way she shivers at my touch. “And smart girls are so damn sexy.”
She laughs, and it lightens the heaviness in my chest. Oh, we have a long way to go before we’re fixed, and declared sane, but I can see the light peeking through. The darkest part is behind us.
Bringing Sam with me, I fall to the bed, loving the way her hair drapes my face, my chest. She braces her elbow on the bed and runs her fingers over my tattoo. I lift her wrist and kiss her inked tree, like I wanted to do the first time I saw it—the first glimmer of hope that she could be mine.
Then, with a wicked, sultry smile, she nips my lip ring, sending a blazing current through my body. This girl loves me. I don’t know how, but I’m going to try like hell to prove that I deserve her.
As she runs her fingers through my hair, her lips caressing mine in a passionate kiss, a pure thought breaks through the carnal haze. Sliding my fingers under her jaw, I lift her face from mine. She blinks down at me. “We should finish the trip,” I say.
Her mouth parts. “But we need to take—”
“I know. And we are. Well,” I say, shifting her to lie beside me. I grasp her hip. She’s still not wearing any pants . . . or underwear. I give my head a quick shake, focusing my thoughts. “We can send it through the mail.”
Her forehead scrunches. “You trust the mail to get something that important to the police department?”
Good point. “Okay, we’ll photocopy the pages and send them the copies.” I raise my eyebrows, tempting her to consider this. I can see it churning in her head.
She bites her bottom lip, and I bring her closer, just wanting to taste it. I’m not ready to go back to the island. I need time to think through everything, and Sam and I need time together. Period.
I want to see the sorry son of a bitch who hit Tyler punished. And I will. But it’s like . . . I’ve been trapped. Locked in my own private hell. When I read Tyler’s words, I was finally freed. And I want my first steps away from that prison to be with Sam.
She pulls away and says, “This isn’t you avoiding, is it?”
A tight smile tugs at my lips. “No. Not avoiding. I swear.” I kiss her quickly. “This is the right thing to do. Finish the trip for Tyler, and along the way, maybe we’ll . . .” Hell. How do I tell her that I don’t ever want to leave her? Never. I need time to work out telling her that I want us to live together. That I’ll move back to the island to be close to her if that’s what it takes. So she can go back to school. Shit. My head is bursting with everything I want.
“Maybe we’ll figure out us,” I finally say.
She returns my smile, and my heart skips a beat. “Okay. Yeah, I think that is exactly what we need to do.”
And I’m unable to hold back. Trapping her wrist, I roll her onto her back and move between her legs, then grabbing her other wrist, I pin her to the bed. My lips catch hers, working her mouth into a desperate kiss. Someone’s going to have to drag me from this room. We might never actually make it back on the road—I’ll never be able to get enough of her.
Her hips arch into me, and I groan against her mouth, wishing like hell I’d never put on my stupid jeans.
Releasing her wrist, I run my hand along her arm, feeling her shiver under my touch. I move higher and tunnel my fingers into her hair, resting my thumb along her jaw, and tilt her head up to look into her yellow-green eyes that I swear, one day, I’ll find a color to match. Just so I can paint her likeness to perfection.
“I’ve never stopped. And I’ll never stop, Sam.” I swallow hard. “I’ll love you so hard it will make your head spin.”
Her breath catches. “I love you, Holden Marks.” She feathers her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer. “Now start making good on that promise.”
I kiss her. I kiss her hard. Damn straight I’m making good on it.
Holden
After signing the papers, I smile at the guy and push the key into my pocket. Then I’m leaving through the office door and heading down the sidewalk, anticipation speeding my steps over the pavement.
Obnoxious honking, engines revving, and the squeal of brakes. Voices climbing over the constant roar of wind tunneling around soaring buildings. This is the soundtrack of New York City.