I was going way too fast on these dark roads.
But what else could I do when Brynn's hand was on my thigh?
We were ten minutes away. Five minutes. My heart jackhammered in my chest. Every nerve ending was on fire. "Your place or mine," I asked her in a strangled gasp.
Her breathing was tight, and I swore I heard her heart beating. "Mine is closer," she murmured.
A firework of triumph went off in my brain. I put my hand on her leg and just held it there for a moment, letting her get used to it, enjoying the heat that radiated from her skin. She had the most amazing skin, peachy and golden, but so responsive.
Slowly, I let my hand climb up her thigh. Her skin tightened into goosebumps under my fingertips. I could feel the soft, downy hairs on her upper thighs, marking the place where she's stopped shaving. I swallowed against my tightening throat, trying like hell to keep my eyes on the road before I killed us both. But the throbbing in my groan made me slide my hand higher to the crease of her thigh. Then brush against the fabric of her panties.
She drew in a sharp breath. But she didn't stop me. So I kept going. That's what I do. I push.
"You're so wet." I slid my finger under her panties and a low groan escaped my mouth. "So warm and wet, Brynn. Fuck..."
I wrenched the wheel to keep from driving us into a field of wildflowers, but I didn't move my hand from her searing heat. I could feel her watching me.
Without thinking, I moved my finger over the tight pearl of her clit. I'd tasted her that night in the closet. But I hadn't seen her. I could only imagine the way she'd look spread open before me.
Frustrated, I moved my finger faster. Her breath caught in a startled little gasp. I spun the wheel and sent us sliding into her street.
We skidded to a halt at the bottom of her driveway. In a wild rush, I threw the car into park and shoved my door open.
I had every intention of grabbing her from the passenger seat and carrying her straight through the open door to her bedroom.
The open door.
"What the fuck?"
Before she could say anything, I sprinted up the lawn. "Brynn, you stay there. You stay right there," I ordered her.
She stepped behind her car door and peered at me with terrified eyes.
The door stood half open and light flooded the living room window. I'd seen her turn off that light and then lock the door with my very own eyes.
I had my cell phone out and dialed nine, then one, when my foot crunched down on something.
Shards of glass were scattered across the porch. The window just above the doorknob had been punched out.
I froze and backed up. Stepping off the porch, I bent down and felt for a weapon. My fingers closed around one of the decorative rocks in her garden.
Something heavy slammed into my back.
I wheeled around, swinging the rock at my assailant and missed braining Brynn with it by a fraction of an inch.
"What the hell?" she gasped. But she wasn't looking at me. She had no idea that I'd almost sent her to the hospital. "What happened?"
"I told you to stay in the car." I took a deep breath and tried to calm my ragged, jangling nerves. For her sake.
She took a step backward, but didn't retreat. "Someone broke in," she said dully.
"Looks like it." I kept my voice low.
"What do I do?"
Fuck. She was terrified. I dropped the rock and wrapped my arms around her tight, wishing I had a blanket to keep her from shivering. I could feel her heart beating frantically.
Slowly I maneuvered her away from the broken glass, away from the invasion of the sanctity of her home. "You don't have to do anything," I told her. "I'm right here. I've got it."
Her eyes were still wide with shock. "What are you going to do?"
"We have no idea if they're still in there." I tilted her chin up. Her darting eyes settled on mine and she took a deep, shuddering breath. "You're good. You're fine. You're safe. Just do what I say, and stay behind me," I told her. "I'm calling the police."