Can't Fight It - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,42

over and moves my way. “Hey! You’re not buckled in!”

“You’re not going fast enough to register speed. I think I’m in the clear from potential accidental injury,” he says as he reaches over and swipes a strand of hair off my forehead. I look his way—Jesus, he’s gorgeous—and then focus back on the path in front of me.

“Stop trying to distract me,” I chastise.

Why is it suddenly so hot in here?

“You’ve been distracting me since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” he whispers, just before his lips graze across my jaw. A shiver slips through my body, though I don’t think it has much to do with the temperature.

Pressing the brake, I turn and look his way. His full lips are so close, close enough that I could move just a hint forward, and they’d touch mine. But I don’t. I stay right where I am, barely breathing. Our eyes remain locked, and so much passes in just a few moment’s time. I can see his desire, his lust for me. I can see his playful side and a hint of danger. But most of all, I see the man I want to get naked with, a long-forgotten hunger hitting deep in my gut for the first time in longer than I care to admit.

He’s been a craving I can’t seem to fight.

His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “You ready?” His voice is husky like it was raked over gravel.

“Ready?” I ask, not really sure what he’s talking about.

Suddenly, a smile so devastatingly handsome spreads across his face that my panties practically explode. I’m so distracted, so lost in the depths of his blue eyes and the familiarity and comfort in that very smile that I almost miss his movement. I almost mistake the touch of his boot against mine as something sexual.

Only, it’s not.

Oh, no.

That touch hurtles my blood pressure into stroke level and my heart rate toward another medical emergency as he hammers down the gas pedal, catapulting us forward into the gray dark of night. He spins us to the right, his laughter drowning out by my bloodcurdling screams. Colton reaches for my hand and moves it under his, the warmth of his touch only offering slight relief in this traumatic situation.

When we stop, he looks at me eagerly, like a kid on Christmas morning. “See? Isn’t that fun?”

“You and I have way different ideas of fun, buddy.”

“Ehhh, come on, Hollis. Live a little.” There’s something in the way he says it. It makes me want to throw caution to the wind and do just that: live a little. I’ve been so worried lately, glancing over my shoulder and trying to remain in the shadows, that I haven’t exactly been living much. Only existing.

Deciding it is time to take the bull by the horns—and I’m not talking about Colton and that very impressive bulge in his pants… yet—I shove his hands off the steering wheel. I kick at his boots to get them away from the pedals and sit up straight in the seat.

I got this.

Just as Colton did moments ago, I push on the gas pedal, ignoring that need to slow down that tingles at the back of my neck. Instead, I go. I launch forward, our wheels spinning and the bed wanting to come around to the front. I overcorrect, sending us into a spin, but keep us moving and my eyes on the roadway. I maneuver the truck through the building snow, angling it toward a drift. When we hit that drift, the truck stops, a small gasp rasping from my throat.

“Shit!” I holler, pressing on the gas even harder, yet only spinning the tires.

Colton laughs. “Okay, hold up on the gas. This is a perfect time to talk about four-wheel drive since you’ve managed to get yourself stuck in a drift.”

He goes through the process of engaging four-wheel drive in the truck and tells me to slowly drive forward. I’m shocked at how easily the truck moves through the snow, thanks to four-wheel drive. When we get through the drift, I stop and turn to face him. Colton’s smiling, leaning back in the seat casually, his arm extended toward me on the seat back.

Suddenly, the desire to kiss him is overwhelming, and it takes everything I have not to climb over the seat and sit on his lap.

“You did well today,” he tells me as I put the truck in park. We both look out at the snow, which is