Read Online Racing to You: Racing Love, Book 1 by Robin Lovett - Free Book Online Page A

of getting away from him dissipates. My neck softens with my shoulders on the cushion, and I can only feel him hold me.
    My eyes close, and my breathing slows. When he stills for a minute, and his breath comes heavy in my hair, I think he’s fallen asleep.
    He opens his hand and presses his palm flat on my belly, his fingers grasping my side through my coat. Air hiccups in my lungs. His hand says he wants me, his fingers say he can’t get enough of me. I like it. I want to be wanted.
    “So soft,” he whispers, and his other hand moves my hair from my neck.
    His mouth is so close. If I turn my head a little, I could taste him.
    I rotate my head and he’s there, closer than I thought. His lips are on my cheek; the hand that was on my belly tilts my chin toward him. I let him.
    He kisses me.
    His lips aren’t just soft, they’re silken. I once put a rose petal to mine when it had fallen fresh off a flower. His lips feel like that. And I think of the flowers that he threw to me this afternoon. I long for him to throw more at me.
    More.
    Turning all of me to face him, I beg for it with my fingers on his neck. His tongue answers me and slides between my lips. I moan and taste him back.
    I’m moving against him, pushing my chest into his. I’m no longer thinking, I shouldn’t . I’m only thinking, I want .
    “Oh, perfect, Relie,” he mutters into my mouth. I like his words but I like his tongue more. He cradles my head in his elbow and his other hand moves hungrily over my back and my waist.
    I pull his hair for more, and he groans in his chest and squeezes me tighter. I don’t think, I just tug at the buttons of my coat. It’s too thick of a barrier. His fingers help me with my buttons. When he tries to take his tongue away, I bite down in protest.
    He chuckles at me and lets me keep his tongue. His hands are under my coat, with only my thin cotton shirt blocking his kneading fingers from my skin. His palms are so hot.
    My God, I want more.
    It bolts straight to my thighs, and the instinct to mold my groin against his—it shocks me.
    I let go of his tongue, I pull my lips away. My breath gusts in and out.
    My legs are rubbing his calves. I stop. I release my hands that have twisted into his hair. I duck my chin, embarrassed at my insanely intense reaction. It’s just a kiss.
    I never should have lain down next to him. I knew I would slip into things that I didn’t want to do. Or did want to do but shouldn’t. I know nothing about him except he’s a really good bike rider from Pennsylvania.
    He presses his lips to my forehead and cheeks; his fingers trace my belly through my shirt. I still his hand and back away from his lips.
    “So much for sleeping,” he mutters. His eyes are dark in shadow, his voice low and breathless.
    The longer I lie here next to him, the more confused I feel. This is absurd.
    “I should—”
    He interrupts me before I can protest. “Will you let me take you home?”
    “I—”
    “I can borrow somebody’s car and drive you.”
    Me, in a car with him. Walking home alone in the dark would be safer.
    “Please? It would make me feel better.” He is so smooth. He’s guilt-tripping me. It’s working. Rationally, walking home in the dark isn’t safer.
    I push up to sitting and button my coat. “Okay.”
    “Did you eat?” he says. “I’m starved.”
    Loud laughter echoes from inside, and I remember we’re at a party. I made out with him in public. Anyone could have walked out and seen us.
    “I’m not allowed to leave, so we need a strategy.”
    “What?” I’m not hearing what he’s saying. I’m replaying his tongue in my mouth and his hands under my coat.
    “You need to go in there and beg keys off one of the guys. I’ll sneak around and meet you out front.”
    “Won’t they miss you at the party? Aren’t you going to get in trouble? I’m not going in there to ask someone for keys.”
    He rolls up on lethargic legs to sit.
    “You weren’t faking the tired thing