“If it’s nothing, Train, then why does it feel like you’re upset with me?” she asks so softly that I want to memorize the way my name sounds on her lips.
Soft. Sweet. Caring.
I let out an annoyed breath, scratching the back of my neck. It’s not her I’m upset with. It’s me. Do I tell her that? Do I just push her farther away? It’d probably be best for both of us if I make sure she’s completely out of my reach.
But that’s the last thing I want to do.
“I’m not upset with you, baby. I’m upset with myself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Fuck, Drew. How do you think it makes me feel to see you wearing my brother’s shirt, knowing he’s in the hospital unconscious, knowing I should be trying to find the bastard who put him there, and yet…”
“And yet?” she prompts.
“All I can think about is kissing you, pulling you into my arms—”
“Train,” she murmurs.
I pull her into me, my hands going to her ass as I pull her against me, letting her feel how hard I am for her.
“Like that, Drew. Just like that. I’ve been fucking fantasizing about you saying my name just like that.”
“Train,” she repeats, looking scared but not pulling away from me. I push into her, making sure she doesn’t escape the hardness of my body. I reach up and curl my hand against the side of her throat, feeling the heavy weight of her hair and loving it.
“Just like that,” I say again. “My name on your lips as I bend down to kiss you, my cock sliding deep inside of you, claiming you.”
Our lips touch then. I wait for her to push me away. When she doesn’t, I thrust my tongue inside her sweet mouth, needing her too much to be gentle. Drew meets my kiss just as urgently. Her tongue wraps with mine as we fight for supremacy. Her arms go around my neck, her fingernails digging into my skin as she holds me to her—not that I want to ever let her go. I knead her ass with my hand, all but grinding her against the hard ridge of my cock, which I know she feels pressing against her. She whispers as we bite at one another, her leg moving restlessly against mine, her body pressing into me with a wild hunger that only feeds my own. It seems like the kiss goes on forever, even though I know it doesn’t. When she pulls away, I growl, following her. I want more of her kisses—more of her. Eventually, I force myself to stop but only because I feel her hands on my chest pushing me back.
We stare at one another, her ragged breathing echoing around us.
“I should probably go shower,” she finally says, her fingers caressing her lips.
I lick my own, still tasting her on them. My hand is still on her ass, holding her.
“Okay,” I respond, forcing myself to let her go.
She stares at me a minute, then walks away. I let her.
Even though it kills me.
I’m not sure I breathe until I hear—through the paper-thin walls—the running of water in her shower. Once that happens, I breathe, although not easily. The next twenty minutes is an exercise in self-control as I resist the urge to go and climb in her shower. I spend the time cleaning her tiny-ass kitchen. Which, sadly, doesn’t take nearly long enough. Then, I go and straighten up her couch. It anything but comfortable but that’s okay. I’m on duty. I’m guarding Drew not sleeping. Her cell phone starts ringing and I stare at it. I shouldn’t touch it, but I need to know what’s going on with her. Drew isn’t telling me, so I need to find the answers somewhere.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice still hoarse from hunger.
“Hello, I have this number as a contact for Drew—”
“She’s in the shower,” I interrupt, distracted because my phone goes off at that moment. I pick it up, mostly ignoring what the person on the other end is saying. Instead, I’m reading Bramble’s text telling me that Ghost is awake.
Yes!
This hollow emptiness that I’ve had in my chest since finding out about him finally lifts. I send off a short text saying I’ll be there in twenty and telling him to call Ride. Then, I force myself to concentrate on the woman talking in my ear.
“I’m sorry. My cell phone was ringing. What did you say?”
“I was looking for Drew Hudson. She left this number as a contact number.”
“This is her phone. She’s in the shower.”
“I’m with Mercy Hospital. I was calling to tell her that her brother has regained consciousness. She asked us to let her know immediately.”
“Her brother?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Motherfucker. Her brother?
“I’m going to spank your ass raw,” I whisper under my breath.
“I’m sorry?” the woman says with a gasp.