Page 39 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

I shot her a wink. “I like that.”

I had ideas for tomorrow night. Wyatt had football practice twice, once in the morning and another late afternoon. Then he’d be rushing off to work until the five restaurants in town that used him and a couple other kids to deliver were closed. My ideas for Londyn involved a repeat of that kiss we’d had in the shop, this time in a place where we could make it last.

“How about we start off with dinner?” That seemed to be working well for us.

“A restaurant or the rock?”

The rock. I wanted time alone with her, not with the town of Summers watching. “Your choice.”

She flashed me that sexy smile. “The rock.”

Chapter Eight

Londyn

“Goddamn, you can kiss,” Brooks panted as he hovered above me. His lips were flushed and swollen. His hair was disheveled from where I’d had it between my fingers. Twilight danced around us and the fading light brought out the darker blue striations in his eyes. He’d gone from gorgeous to fucking magnificent.

The most handsome man on earth wasn’t a Times Square model or a Hollywood dreamboat. He was a mechanic in West Virginia.

And for the time being, he was mine.

Maybe if I had three more nights like this, I’d have his features memorized for life.

Brooks rolled away, lying flat on his back at my side. Our hands were nearly touching, but not quite.

My chest heaved as my shoulders pressed into the hard rock. I gazed up into the sky, bringing a hand to my lips. Three nights of making out like teenagers and they’d been rubbed raw.

All we’d done was kiss. Brooks always stopped us before we could go too far. So I had chapped lips and an ache in my core that hurt.

This kissing was taking a toll on Brooks too. He shifted uncomfortably, cocking a knee to hide the bulge in his jeans. An impressive bulge at that, especially when it was digging into my hip.

We’d both be going to sleep frustrated tonight. I refused to release some of the tension on my own. If and when Brooks decided to let go of the ironclad grip he had on his control, I wanted this eager desire burning hot under the surface. For once, I was letting the foreplay drive me wild.

With other men, Thomas included, kissing had become a boring preview to a boring feature title. But damn, it was fun with Brooks. I’d forgotten how fun kissing could be on its own.

Something told me that even after we had sex—if we had sex—kissing would always be an event of its own.

Well, for the days I was here.

Lying by his side, it was easy to forget this situation was temporary. Brooks erased the future with his lips. All that mattered was now. Here. My future was on this rock with nature’s symphony drowning out reality.

Brooks stretched a finger to touch one of mine. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Yeah.” He covered my hand with his. “But not yet.”

I smiled, turning my head to look at him. His grin was waiting. “No, not yet.”

My car was at the body shop and the crew there hadn’t even started on it yet. They could take their time. If it was done tomorrow, I doubted I’d leave anyway.

I wasn’t done with Summers yet. I wasn’t done kissing Brooks.

He raised his left hand, taking a glance at his watch. “I’d better get on home soon.”

Brooks had sent me on my way before ten each night. The stars were barely coming alive as I sulked to my motel room. He claimed it was because he had an early morning ahead. Really, I think he worried we’d lose control.

“Okay.” I sat up, but instead of standing and collecting my trash from dinner, I came down on top of him, pressing my chest to his. My lips brushed his mouth, placing a kiss at the corner.