of bullshit logic was why my father had done what he had to Momma and me.
I froze, refusing to react, and just stood there like I was a robot.
“Theodosia,” he rasped. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m the opposite of okay.” I didn’t think I’d ever be okay again.
“What’s happened? You were good before. Happy. I mean, you won all your races. As usual,” he whispered, sounding miserable when I cut him a disdainful look.
“Are you disappointed that I won or that I was happy?” I snapped, and it didn’t escape me that for one of the first times in two years, we were alone.
Maria did a good impression of being an octopus. I’d never seen anyone cling to a man more than she did. Hell, it was a wonder she let him up for air.
I swear I’d even seen her follow him to the bathroom on the rare occasions we were together at his parents’ house.
It must kill her, literally kill her, to know I was at the same school as him. That we were on the same team, and traveled the country together, staying in the same hotels, under the same roof… But he’d never tried to talk to me, and I’d never tried to talk to him.
Sometimes, I wasn’t sure if I should have. If I should have fought for him, but there was no fighting for another woman’s man, was there? He’d sealed his fate when he’d whispered the words, “I do,” to someone who wasn’t me.
“Thea, I… miss you.”
“You married her,” I snarled, the violence of my emotions flooding me again. “You don’t have the right to miss me.”
His mouth tightened, and for a second, I thought he was going to stalk off, but he didn’t.
Out of nowhere, his hand shot out. I didn’t think to flinch—it was Adam, for fuck’s sake—but it went to the back of my neck, and in seconds, I was hauled into him as he used his grip on my neck to move me closer. Before I knew it, he was pushing me against the wall and his mouth was on mine.
It wasn’t the first kiss we’d shared, but it was the first real kiss.
When I thought about how chaste we’d been, I wondered why. Why he’d been so careful with me, never pressuring me, never pushing me into doing something I might not have been ready for.
We’d had pecks on the lips, hugs. I’d spent hours with one of his arms tucked around me at Hawkvale, knew his scent as well as I knew my own, and had felt his heart thud whenever I moved closer, doing something daring like pressing my lips to his chin or lower—his throat.
But this kiss was nothing like the ones we’d shared before.
It was desperate and loaded with feeling, a feeling so full of despair that my eyes burned behind lids I’d closed.
I should fight him off, shouldn’t allow him to kiss me when he wasn’t mine.
But he tasted like mine.
He felt like mine.
Fuck, he was mine.
I thrust my tongue against his, years’ worth of anguish and passion fueling a fire I knew would never burn out. A moan escaped me at the same time a deep and throaty groan rumbled from him, making our tongues vibrate, which only powered the kiss all the more.
His body was hard against mine, so lean and strong from all his training that he felt like heaven in my arms. I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing against him, arching my back to get closer, needing more. Needing to feel all of him.
His erection didn’t come as a surprise. I knew I’d be wet between my legs, knew it and gloried in it.
His arousal was mine.
Just as mine was his.
My hips thrust against him, his thick length pushing against flesh that had yearned for him for years.
It was shameful, shameless, but I didn’t care about Maria. I remembered her. She wasn’t a distant memory—she never was. I kissed him despite the fact that he was married. I kissed him knowing it was wicked.
And I didn’t stop.
My hands dropped down to his ass, and my nails dug deep into him as I urged him closer to me.
I felt feverish, like I was going to die in this fire if he didn’t give me what I needed to quench it.
When he pulled back, I moaned his name, but he didn’t stop either. He couldn’t. I felt his need, knew it was as rabid, if not more so, than my own.