Ash presses me back against the car, his body flush against mine, pinning me in the best way possible. His hips angle just right, and I can feel how hard he is, how much he wants this. Wants me. It makes me dizzy, makes me reckless.
His lips leave mine only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down my neck. His teeth graze my skin, and I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders as heat pools low in my stomach.
“Ash…” His name is a plea, a prayer, and he groans in response, dragging his lips back to mine in a kiss so deep, so consuming, I forget how to breathe.
I press closer, arching into him, desperate for more—more friction, more heat, more of him. He must feel it, too, because his grip tightens, his hands roaming and teasing, until I’m trembling against him.
“Amelia,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine as he speaks, his voice thick with need. “If you keep making those sounds, I swear I’ll take you right here.”
The thought alone makes me whimper, and Ash curses under his breath before kissing me again like he’s trying to devour me. He’s completely unraveling—and I know, without a doubt, I am too.
“Take me home” is the only sentence I can get out.
I know it’s a bad idea because we have an exhibition in the morning, but I need this man more than my next breath. I need him inside me—his tongue on me and in me, and damn, I need that perfect cock of his.
Ash opens my car door as I grab the takeout bag off the hood, and I slip into the driver’s seat. “One more kiss.”
“My bike’s parked out front. I'll follow you if that’s okay,” he says, those beautiful eyes still dilated from our lust-filled kiss.
He kisses me one last time and then heads toward his motorcycle. Because, of course, the man would have one. He just wasn’t hot enough.
When I reach my bike, I feel my phone vibrate. Reaching into my pocket, I see it’s a text from Dad.
Dad: Guard your heart, son.
Well, that’s cryptic.
Me: I’ll be fine, Dad. See you tomorrow.
I slip the phone back into my jacket just as I see Amelia’s car come around the corner.
Bringing my bike to life, I throw my helmet on and follow her home.
The deep growl of my bike cuts through the quiet night, but it’s nothing compared to the noise in my head.
Guard your heart.
My dad’s text flashes through my mind over and over, each time hitting a little harder. I follow Amelia’s car at a steady distance, watching the way the streetlights catch in her hair through the window, completely unaware of the war going on inside me.
Why the hell would he say that?
He’s never been the overprotective type, never warned me away from anything—especially not a woman. If anything, he’s the one who taught me not to get too close, not to let anyone in far enough to hurt me.
Does he think Amelia will?
I exhale sharply, gripping the handlebars a little tighter. No. She’s not like that. She’s not playing games, not trying to worm her way into my life just to tear me apart. She’s just… Amelia.
So why does it feel like my dad saw something I didn’t?
Her blinker flashes as she turns onto her street, and I follow without thinking, my chest tight, my mind still tangled in his warning.
Guard your heart.
Maybe it’s already too late.
The second Amelia steps out of her car, I’m off my bike. I don’t think—I just move. My dad’s warning still lingers in the back of my mind, but right now, I don’t care. Right now, all I can focus on is her.
She barely has time to react before I reach her, my hands gripping her hips as I lift her clean off the ground. A surprised gasp escapes her lips, which softens into a moan as her legs twine around my waist; she fits perfectly against me.
