Page 44 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

But even with the assurance, Karson pulled his hands away. He inched backward on his knees. “We’d better slow down.”

“Oh.” The disappointment in my tone filled the space.

“I don’t want to rush this.”

“We only have two days left.”

“Clara, I want you. God, I want you. But . . .” He ran a hand over his jaw. “Maybe you should go.”

Because he wouldn’t want to stop.

I didn’t want him to stop.

Maybe if my life had been normal. If I were the girl who’d crushed on the boy in school. If we had had weeks of flirting beside lockers and going on dates, then I would have slowed this down.

But we only had two days. And if I couldn’t convince him to come to Vegas, then I’d lose him.

“I don’t want to go.” I squared my shoulders, feigning more confidence than I actually felt.

Karson let out a pained groan. “Clara.”

“I want you to be the one,” I whispered.

His eyes locked on mine and whatever restraint he’d been holding onto shredded. He came at me, strong and sure, and kissed me until I was breathless. Then he took me to his room, laying me on the bed that I’d slept on with him just last night.

Karson’s kisses were tender and soft as he settled on his side, careful not to crush me under his weight. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t stop.” I closed my eyes and arched into his lips as they trailed down my neck.

One of his hands was on my breast, the other in my hair.

When his fingers drifted to the waistband of my jeans, I ached in places I hadn’t ached before. A throb boomed in my core.

Karson never pushed too fast. He looked at me before every touch, waiting for that nod to continue. He let me conquer the fears, one by one. He let me know with his kiss and his touch and those gorgeous hazel eyes that I was in control.

And when we were both naked, our clothes piled beside us, he settled into the cradle of my hips and brushed his thumb across my cheek.

“Clara.” He whispered my name like a prayer.

I ran my fingers across his collarbone. I fit my palm to the hard muscle of his bicep. Then I gave him the nod that brought us together as one.

Later, after he’d made me see a different kind of stars, we curled together, our legs tangled and his arms encircling mine. I fell asleep with a smile.

Karson didn’t know it, but he’d just given me something I’d never had before.

A dream come true.

Chapter Eight

Clara

The murmur of voices woke me from sleep. “Who is tha—”

“Shh.” Karson’s arms squeezed around me as he whispered in my ear. Then he let me go and silently slipped from beneath his blankets, swiping up his jeans from the floor. He tugged them on and tiptoed, barefoot, toward the opening of the tent. With a glance over his shoulder, he pressed a finger to his lips and crept outside.

I scrambled to get dressed, strapping on my bra first, then rifling through the clothes scattered around me for my panties. With them on, I yanked on my jeans and shirt, then followed Karson outside. Crouching low as I walked, I weaved through the piles of junk around the tent, finding him ducked behind an old truck.

Aria was by his side.