by Lacey Alpha
His brow creases and he gently rubs my nose with the tip of his. “I'm not going to ask you what's on your mind, because I know you won't tell me. But I hope whatever it is, doesn't put you off me again. Because I wanna enjoy our last night together.”
“It won't,” I murmur, shutting my eyes and focusing on the comfort of his weight on me.
He goes to move and I cling to his shoulders, wanting him to stay. “One more minute,” I plead and he goes still.
I expect him to say something and suspect he'd like to, but instead, he dips his head and gives me his mouth. He coaxes my lips apart, kissing me in a way that my entire body feels it, all the way down to my toes.
When he pulls away, I let him go, scrambling up into a sitting position as he climbs back through to the front seat.
The windows are heavy with steam, obscuring the outside world from view. I shrug out of the tattered remains of my dress as Logan pulls his shirt on and steps out of the car. I rummage in my bag which is wedged behind the passenger chair, pulling out a navy dress and tugging it on. When I'm haphazardly put back together, I climb into the front of the car, sprawling ungracefully over both seats.
Logan places his hand on the top of the car, bending down and gazing in at me with a lopsided smile. “Need a hand, sweetheart?”
I blush, crawling toward him and letting him extract me from the car and plant me on my feet. My knees are weak from what he just did to me and they nearly give way beneath my weight. Logan grins cockily at me, taking hold of my waist to support me.
“Food,” he commands and I nod, letting him lead me away from the car toward the service station.
As we approach the restaurants, he gestures to them. “What do you fancy?”
I eye an all-you-can-eat pizza place with a growling sensation in my belly. “Pizza.”
He gives me his widest grin yet, taking my hand and slipping his fingers between mine. “Pizza it is.”
LOGAN
“So Kira's got this friend. She's totally hot. I think you guys would get along – and trust me I know you're hard as fuck to get along with but-”
“No.” I glance up from my breakfast at Adam. He's dressed for university in smart attire. Something about the sight of him makes my gut twist.
“But dude.”
“I don't date girls, I fuck them. And I'm certainly not going to date one of your girlfriend's friends. That would be the shit show of the century.”
“You should think about it, bro. 'Cause you're heading for the grumpy old lonely man award.”
“Good. I'll start writing my acceptance speech.”
Just as we're about to leave the little pizza restaurant, rain begins to beat the pavement.
I pause as it grows heavier, glancing at Darcy, eyeing her skimpy summer dress. “Wanna wait for it to ease off?”
She raises her brows, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Stepping close to me, she rests her hands on my chest, making my heart beat harder.
“Na...” She gives me a seductive look, her breasts pressing against my body, making my cock jump to attention. How can I want her again already? I only just fucked her ten colours of the rainbow.
She leans up to my ear, her mouth grazing my skin, turning me on like mad. “Race you to the car,” she whispers then whips out of the door.
I'm left momentarily shell-shocked before charging after her. She's already halfway across the parking lot, her sandals splashing through dark puddles reflecting the surrounding floodlights.
I'm reminded of the first day we met, pursuing her across the park, thinking she was as wild then as I do now.
I pick up my pace as she passes through a gap in the hedgerow, closing in on the car.
Half a second later, I slip through it too and rain slides down my neck, soaking through my shirt.
I jog the last few paces to the car, finding Darcy leaning triumphantly back against it. She grins at me, resting her elbows on the top of the McLaren. Heathcote's McLaren. This sight is one of the best I've ever seen.
I slow my approach to a walk, my eyes dropping down her body; from her soaking tangle of hair to the wet dress clinging to her curvy body in the silvery light. She's a delight. A delicious dessert, begging to be devoured.
“I won,” she pants and I shake my head.
“I'm not so sure.” I rest my hands next to her elbows on the car, leaning in, embracing the rain. “'Cause I'm feeling like a winner right now.”
She bites her lip, batting her eyelashes at me which are thick with raindrops. A drip slides down her nose and I dip my head, licking it before it falls.
She giggles lightly, tilting her head back and shutting her eyes to feel the rain on her face.
I drop my mouth to her exposed neck, running my tongue up her throat.
“Do you like the taste of the rain?” she teases, her hands slipping over my shoulders.
“I like the way it makes you taste.”
She snaps her head up, gazing at me, her expression suddenly serious.
“Kiss me,” she demands and I do, reaching into her damp hair and gently holding her in place as I press my lips to hers.
Rainwater courses between our mouths as our tongues meet, making the kiss cool and wet and delicious. I slide my hand down her spine, letting her know how much I want her, my boxers growing tighter and tighter. She responds to my touch, pressing her body against me.
It's dark around us, the only light the floodlights from the other side of the hedgerow, glinting through the leaves.
I could take her here. Now. No one would see us. But would she allow me to?
She lifts a leg, wrapping it around me, drawing me closer so my throbbing erection rubs against her.
She moans softly and I take the cue, lifting her, cupping her ass and crushing her to me.
She gasps, gripping me tighter with her thighs, clutching my hair and gazing down at me. Her forehead presses to mine. Rainwater drips from her hair, her nose, her chin, falling onto my face and bringing my senses to life.
I carry her to the bonnet and plant her down. Turning her around, I firmly bend her over the car, taking hold of her neck. She sways her hips in encouragement, caressing my rock hard cock through my jeans.
She braces herself, her thighs tense as I drag up her sopping dress. Guess she's giving me the green light.
“Logan,” she breathes, wary and excited.
I tug at her little thong, pulling it up between her cheeks to taunt her. Her ass is perfectly round and pale, just asking to be pounded. I smack her hard, the water amplifying the sound. She groans, pressing her thighs together, her hips rocking in a relentless rhythm.
I press my palm down on her spine, stilling her before nudging her legs apart with my knees.
The chrome surface of the car reflects her body splayed across it and I think I'm in heaven. Fucking this girl on Heathcote's car is a real treat. And I'm going to make sure she feels the same way.
I lower my mouth to her thong, teasing it between my teeth, nipping her skin as I do so. Her spine lifts and arches, her body language showing me how desperate she is.
I drag the thong down her thighs, just enough to expose her to me. I kick her legs wider, keeping the thong in place. Rainwater drips over her ass, slipping between her cheeks, down the backs of her legs.
I free my throbbing length, tugging my jeans down just enough and watching as the raindrops cling to it. I sheath myself before stepping into place, pushing my stiff cock down and positioning it between her legs. My end slips and slides over her wet entrance, making me growl with pleasure.
I thrust inside her, groaning as she tightens around me immediately. She's so ready for me. I love that she's willing to let me fuck her like this. Not every girl would be so daring. And that turns me on even more.
I give it to her hard, how she likes it, gripping her hips.
The rain soaks me to the bone and Darcy's dress soon becomes see-through. I focus on the glimpse of her skin beneath it, hardening further. She moa
ns, trying to hold onto the bonnet of the car but struggling for purchase in the rain.
It's not long before we're both coming apart and Darcy howls her ecstasy to the sky. She's wild and exciting and nothing like I ever imagined a woman could be. But she's not mine. Though I desperately want her to be. There's nothing I've ever desired like this. Nothing. The thrill of stealing cars, the rush, the risk. It all pales in comparison to her.
We get into the car and I start the engine, turning on the warm air to dry us off. Darcy climbs into the back seat, her cheeks flushed and rightly so. As I strip out of my clothes, she does the same and I watch her unashamedly in the rear-view mirror.
When she's pulled on a vest top and shorts, she grins at me, catching me looking. “Are you spying on me?”
“Yep.” I grin and she returns it.
I pull on some fresh boxers before joining her in the back of the car.
“How are we going to sleep in here?” she asks and I grab her, pulling her into my lap.
“Don't worry, you'll be so exhausted by the time I let you sleep, you'll have no trouble.”
She inhales and I take the opportunity to kiss her, sinking my tongue between those luscious lips. If Darcy Jenkins is only mine for one night more, I'm going to make sure she can't get me out of her head for a long, long time.
¸.•*´♥`*•.¸
When we're back on the road the next day, speeding towards England in the Eurostar, my gut tells me my time with Darcy is nearly over.
I watch her as she weaves between the cars ahead of us, remaining in the McLaren myself, feeling protective of it. Too much hard-ass work has gone into this car. I'm not letting it out of my sight. Not until I make the deal and sell this baby. I've got a contact. A guy who Heathcote rubbed up the wrong way a few years back. He tried to get me to work for him once, and though I refused, I know he won't miss the chance to take Heathcote's pride and joy off my hands.
No, everything is smooth sailing from here on out. It's Darcy that causes me trouble. The kind of trouble I've never experienced before: emotional trouble. It's fucking torment. I've lived by logic my whole life, but now my heart is in the driver's seat fucking with the control panel. And giving me the finger every time my brain tries to regain control. And worst of all, there isn't a fucking thing I can do about it. Darcy walking away isn't just inevitable, it's fucking necessary. If Heathcote comes looking for me, there's no way I'm risking having her by my side. I'd take the bullet for us both, without question. So this is it. This is what it's come down to. The final leg of our journey and our inevitable goodbye.
Oh fuck the car. I get out, marching to Darcy as she gazes at a Mona Lisa replica on the wall. Spinning her around, I slam my tongue into her mouth – much to the disgust of the white-picket-fence family sitting in the Landy behind Darcy. Two kids gawp at us whilst their parents try to shield their eyes.
“Logan,” Darcy's voice cracks as she pulls away, her hand clutching mine on her cheek. “I...”
I freeze. Like a fucking statue. Because I think she might actually be about to open up to me. I clutch her cheek like it's a lifeline between us, gazing into her eyes like nothing else exists in the world.
My lips remain pressed together. I just wait. And wait. And wait.
“I don't want to say goodbye,” she breathes and tears fill her eyes.
It's not exactly I love you. And to be fair, I didn't exactly expect her to say the L-word. But it's something. Something huge coming from her.
I tip my head up, kissing her forehead, keeping my lips there for a long time. “Me neither, Darce.” I sigh heavily. “But if Heathcote comes after me, I can't put you at risk.”
She clutches my shirt, tugging me closer, her brows drawn together. The Dad in the car jams his hand on the horn, glaring at me. We're nearly leaning on their car. I fix him with a 'fuck off' stare and return my attention to my girl. Shit. Not my girl. God fucking dammit.
“I don't care. I want- argh-” She shakes her head, looking physically in pain.
I wind my fingers into hers, knowing how hard this is for her. And knowing having this conversation under the English channel with a pissed off man and his glaring wife staring at us is not ideal. But I'm afraid if I budge Darcy even an inch, she'll never open up to me again.
“I can't put you in danger,” I insist.
“But you did,” she says, not angrily, more pleading. “You said Ralph's dangerous, but you let me be a part of this job anyway.”
It tickles me that she calls it a job, like she's a thief as much as I am now. Teaching Darcy how to nick a car is a cock-stirring thought. One which is not appropriate to dwell on right now.
“Yeah and you did excellent, baby. But the cookie is about to crumble. And I'm not letting you get crushed by Heathcote's iron fist.”
She glares at me, her stubborn little eyes pinned on me. “Is that what's going to happen? He's going to find you? Crush you?”
I tongue my cheek, thinking over my answer. “I'm hoping not.”
“You hope not,” she says bitterly, shaking her head. “But there's a chance?”
“Course there is, especially after he saw me yesterday.”
“So he knows you?” Her eyes narrow and I know we're circling the truth here. And I think I'm finally done keeping it from her.
I drag my eyes from hers, pinning them on the grey ceiling of the train. “He's my boss.”
Darcy turns to stone in my arms. “What?” she breathes in horror.
“Yeah...not that he really knows me. We met once, a long time ago. He deals with me via text, that's all.”
“So wait a second-” She's angry now, pushing out of my hold. “This isn't a standard job?”
I shake my head, watching her, praying she'll understand. But there's only one way she can really understand my motive for this and I'm fucking terrified to touch on that territory. “No. This is me. Going at my boss for something he did to me a long time ago.”
“This is revenge?” she says, alarmed. “For what?”
I press my lips together, trapping a breath in my mouth.
“For. What?” she demands.
The Eurostar slows and I know from the bump and jostle of the carriage that we've arrived back in England. I hold out my hand to Darcy, making a decision. “Can I show you?”
Her brows drop low. “What do you mean?”
“Just come with me, I need to take you somewhere.”
Her expression softens and she nods slowly, taking my hand. A knot unravels in my chest at her trusting me. Thank fuck. If I lost her now, I don't think I could take it.
ADAM
Five years ago
“What are you gonna do?” I pace anxiously at the end of our drive.
Mum's curtain twitching. She knows we're up to something. Probably thinks Logan's getting me high. But she won't come out here, not whilst her face is pasted with some stinky herbal mask that's supposed to take ten years off her. Good luck with that, Mum. Meanwhile in the real world, your sons are about to do some seriously dodgy shit.
Logan is cool as a cucumber, back to his usual self after the beating he took the other week.
I move behind an ash growing sideways out of our neighbour's lawn. Rolling a joint between my fingers, I slip the lighter from my pocket.
Logan strolls over, snatching the J and crushing it in his palm. “Don't be a dick. You've been clean for how long?”
“A while,” I mutter through my teeth. “But stressful circumstances and all.”
“You need to drive tonight. So don't be a fucking tool.” Logan pushes his fingers into his hair, the only sign that he's nervous. But he is. Must be. We could fucking die tonight.
I grind my teeth on the soft gums of my cheeks. “Can we just leave already?”
Logan gives me a stiff nod, heading towards his Corolla. When we're on our way, I visualise throwing up in the glove compartment. My stomach gives a squeeze but I've barely eaten today. Nothing to chuck up.
“You're gon
na actually do what I told you to tonight, right?” Logan shoots a glare at me, his dark blue eyes near-black in the low light.
“Yeah, yeah,” I murmur, fixing my eyes on the road. Two beams slit the darkness in half, guiding our way toward, what? Our fucking graves probably.
Logan pulls up in a low-lit road and steps out of the car. I follow, catching the keys to the Corolla as he chucks them to me.
He waits as I move to the driver's side, gazing at him with a please-don't-do-this expression. He clasps the back of my neck, pulling me roughly forward and pressing his mouth to my forehead.
“Two blocks away.”
“Two blocks,” I confirm, my heart rate lifting. Fuck. He's my brother. I should be by his side for this.
“Give me half an hour before calling the police.”
The darkness in his expression is the worst part. There's no way in hell he'd have me call the police unless he was facing jail time or death. So that's definitely what we're looking at here.
“Shit, Logan. Can't we just get the fuck out of dodge? You must have enough money by now, we'll take Mum, we'll move. Somewhere Heathcote won't find us.”
Logan exhales a long, soul-crushing breath. He's made his decision. I'm not getting a say here.
He turns to leave and I snatch his arm. “Promise me the next time I see you won't be in a coffin.”
His eyes go skyward but I can sense he's scared. Of course he's fucking scared. He's putting his neck on the chopping block tonight.
He tries to move again but I clutch his arm, my nails digging into his skin.
Not my big brother. Not him.
Logan relents, dropping a palm onto my shoulder. “Please don't make me say the fucking L word. You know it'll hurt.”
I break a laugh, my throat burning as I gaze at him. He senses it, like I do. Shit's gonna happen tonight. It's in the fucking air. The world reeks of it.
“You don't have to say it. But I know you L word me.” I force a grin and he gives me one back with ease.