Wheels of Fire - Autumn Jones Lake Page 0,75

to me.

He inches closer and slides his hand to the back of my head, holding me still. My eyes widen as he swoops in. Too shocked to move, my body remains rigid—a rabbit caught in psychedelic headlights. His lips slide against mine for the briefest second.

Wrong. Andrew’s so wrong about us. The fire inside me isn’t passion, it’s fury.

Tears sting my eyes as I pull away, breaking the brief, tentative kiss. I swipe my hand over my mouth, wishing I could erase the feel of Andrew’s lips. “I love Chaser.”

He releases me. “Love has nothing to do with this.”

“He’s your friend. How can you do this to him?”

A tiny bit of remorse pinches his brows together. “I feel shitty for wanting to fuck you so bad. He saved my life. I have mad respect for him.”

“Just not enough respect not to hit on me.”

“I’m way past hitting on you, Mallory. If I didn’t respect him, I would’ve told you this a long time ago.”

“Your restraint is admirable.” I lean over and reach for my purse.

Ignoring my sarcasm, he blocks my hand. “One time.” His pleading eyes beg me to reconsider. “It’s just sex.”

“Maybe to you it is.”

He snort-laughs and slaps his thighs. “Fuck, you know Kyle boned Pamela the first time we broke up?”

“She mentioned it.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “See? It wasn’t a big deal.”

Maybe that’s how it works in his dysfunctional brain but this visit to crazy land has been more than enough for me.

“Shit.” He draws out the word in disbelief. “Pammy told me once Chaser’s the only man you’ve ever slept with. I didn’t believe her until now.”

That bitch. I never should’ve opened up to her. I bet they had a good laugh about poor prudish Mallory.

“Is it like a religious reason?” he asks.

“What? No.”

“Do you need to be in love or something?”

My heart races. I’m a confused mouse being batted around by Andrew’s paws of crazy.

“You like me a little, at least. Right?” he persists.

“I used to.” In a stronger voice, I add, “But not in the way you seem to think.”

He rests one of his big hands on my thigh. “How can you marry him when you’ve never been with another man? Aren’t you curious what it’s like with someone else?”

Acid burns the back of my throat at the thought. “Not even a little.”

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans and covers his face with his hands, scrubbing hard. “I just want you out of my fucking head.”

“Words every woman longs to hear.” I force a laugh.

He gives me a crooked smile in return. “Do you need me to say I love you? I can say it if that will change your mind.”

“You wouldn’t mean it. And I’ll never change my mind. So what’s the point?”

His fierce expression sends shivers down my spine. “I think about you all the time, Mallory. First thought that pops in my head every morning: ‘I wonder what Mallory’s doing? Does she sleep naked? Does she like to wake up with a long, slow, morning fuck?’”

“Stop it! What’s wrong with you?”

“You know Chaser wouldn’t even give up simple details like that?” he continues like a petulant child who’s been denied a trip to the most magical kingdom. “I’m an open book. Tell you anything you want to know. Not Chaser. Locked down tight when it comes to you.”

Thank God for that.

“Last time I was inside Pamela all I thought about was you.” He closes his eyes and thrusts his hips. “Is Mallory’s pussy—”

“Stop!” I jump up but he grabs my hand tugging and almost knocking me off balance. “Let me go, Andrew.”

“Even your voice.” He groans. “I can’t get it out of my head. It drives me crazy when you say my name. Jacob told me you make all these wild sex noises when Chaser fucks you. I had to lock myself in the bathroom and jerk off for like an hour.”

The heat of embarrassment crawls up to my forehead. Why am I surprised, though? Jacob asked me to orgasm on their album for God’s sake.

Am I really that loud?

It doesn’t matter. I’m not the one who should be embarrassed. “Let me go.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” he pleads. “I didn’t mean to be an asshole. You asked and I’ve been dealing with this for a while.”

And I’ll need a lifetime of therapy to deal with this conversation. “Don’t apologize. It’s good to know how you really feel.” I jerk away from him and scoop up my purse.

“Don’t leave mad,” he pleads.

“I’m not mad.” Completely disoriented,

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