Page 36 of Riding Free

Go crazy, maybe.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

KEELY

Brock follows me home, and I know my parents aren’t going to be happy when he pulls in behind my car and we gather Thea to go to his house. They’re really going to be pissed, because I’m not doing what they want—again.

My hands shake as I try to keep my car straight on the road. It doesn’t take me long to get back to their place, and I pull the car into the driveway. Brock doesn’t pull in behind me like I imagined he would. Instead, he guides his bike along the curb.

Once I’m parked, I sit for a moment to gather myself. I try to keep my entire body from trembling harder than it already is. When a shadow darkens the driver’s window, I let out a shaky breath before turning to see that it’s Brock.

Turning the engine off, I inhale through my nose, long and deep, holding it for just a moment before I let it out slowly, then I reach for the handle. I don’t even tug on it before the door opens.

“You nervous about something, babe?”

I shake my head as I throw my legs over the side of the seat and stand up, straightening. “My parents aren’t thrilled with this, us,” I confess. “They made it extremely clear when I got home last night.”

He smirks. “No shit?”

“I mean, I know you knew, but still, hearing it from them, I don’t want them to say anything else.”

Brock shakes his head once. “They’re going to. I could tell by the way their eyes widened at the sight of my cut. In my experience, I honestly don’t think they’ll ever come around. But also, I’m not gonna lie, Keely. They’re right to be concerned. I wouldn’t want Thea to be with a man like me.”

Closing the car door behind me, I take a step backward as he moves forward and presses my ass against the window. I watch as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, and I wonder what would happen if my teeth replaced his.

Would he like that?

I want to taste him.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, and especially for Thea, but I hope like hell that she meets a man one day who makes me feel the way Brock does. Even if it’s just for a week and never again. But hopefully, it’s forever.

Brock shifts forward, his arm lifting before he places his palm against the car next to my arm. He doesn’t stop moving, his mouth finding mine as if he knows that I need his mouth on me.

Those teeth that were just biting his lip, they’re biting mine now. Not hard, just enough to sting my bottom lip. Wow. So damn good. I didn’t forget anything about the way this man could kiss, could lick, could bite.

If anything, I downplayed it in my memories, over and over and over again. I’d convinced myself it was good, the best I’d ever had, but that there possibly was someone better out in the world for me.

It was a lie.

There is nothing better than this man… nobody better than him.

When his tongue slides across my bottom lip, licking away the sting of his bite, my knees actually knock together, and I have to press my thighs against one another in an attempt to relieve the ache between my legs.

“To hell with them,” I whisper. “You make me feel alive, so to hell with them.”

He chuckles, almost as if he thinks I’m cute or something. I’m not trying to be cute. I’m being dead serious. His lips brush against mine one more time before he takes a step backward, then another, and then he takes my hand in his.

“I got you, babe. I’ll always have your back.”

I guess that’s that, because he tugs me behind him as he walks straight for my parents’ front door. He doesn’t reach for the handle or try to open the door. I’m not sure why that surprises me, probably because I assume he’s going to just take control. He’s that kind of guy, and I don’t mind it one bit.

Stepping forward, I use my key to unlock the front door, then push it open, calling out that both Brock and I are coming inside. My mother is sitting in her chair in the living room, the television on, and I notice that it’s one of her soap operas.

She turns her head, her eyes finding mine but glossing over me in an instant before she focuses on Brock. He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the tension between them. I could cut it with a knife.

Apparently, my mother thought that when she gave me her dance with the wild side speech, I took it to heart. I didn’t. She chose not to stay wild and free, but she doesn’t realize that’s all I’ve ever craved in life.