Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book) by Reinhardt, Liz (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

I'm a tiny kid again, trying like hell to catch a few lightening bugs, but too awed by the bright glow to actually capture even one.

Evan's hand comes up and her fingers pull along my cheek. "You seem really tense."

"It's hard to get a handle on all this. You and me. Being here. Together. No interruptions." I'm babbling like a lunatic. My hot as all hell girlfriend is straddling my lap, and all I can do is ramble. I feel like it's suddenly hard to swallow.

Evan's eyes watch me for a few long seconds. "Let go." She says the words like an invitation.

I slide my hands off her back, but she tugs them to her and up, moving them to the heavy swell of her tits. My brain flips and shorts a little, and my instinct is to pull back, pull away.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"Winch. Let. Go," Evan repeats and taps one finger against my forehead. My hands settle over her skin, and I feel the surge, wild and primal, to grab her close. It scares the shit out of me.

"You wanna eat? You wanna watch something?" She's telling me to let go, but I can't. I can't lose it with her like this. Today was too long and too hard. I don't have a good gauge on my emotions. I won't be able to keep control.

Evan leans forward and kisses me, but I don't kiss back. I can't. I'm caught between not wanting it to stop and not knowing if I can go through with it, and I’d rather not fuck up, not hurt her. But Evan doesn't care about going slow or being safe. She wraps her hands around my wrists and pushes me down, arms over my head. It's sexy as hell, but I kind of hate it.

Like she can read my mind, she smiles.

"I don't want to eat. Not food. And I don't want to watch anything. Except you. Getting turned on. By me."

Her voice rasps low and she keeps a solid hand on my wrists as her lips drop all these kisses, soft, light, quick on my battered face, then move to pull at my neck with tiny, damp bursts of suction.

"Evan." I can hear how my voice is just crossing the line of begging, and I don't like it. But I can't risk unleashing things with her. I've never had this feeling with a girl, like I was about to lose control.

She lets go of my wrists, and I relax, but only for a minute. She tugs on the bottom of my shirt and tears it over my head, and her eyes go wide and dark looking at my body. Before I can move her over to the side, she presses my wrists over my head again.

"Winch," she breathes, dipping lower, circling her tongue around each of my nipples, kissing over the bruises that explode on my ribs. She pulls back up, her face flushed and her eyes bright. "If I let go of your hands, you have to promise not to push me away."

It's hard to swallow. "Evan, you don't understand."

"Then explain."

Her fingers tighten like she thinks she's actually holding me back. Did she not just watch me beat the shit out of two hulking giants? But I love it, the way she jumps in, all balls and brass, and does whatever the hell she wants with me.

"Today I broke a lot of my own rules. I pushed too far. And I'm scared that I'll just keeping doing that with you."

It's hard to get out a coherent thought with her body pressed tight against mine, sliding back and forth with soft little rocks of her hips.

She leans close and kisses my lips, pulling back before it gets too intense. I half want more, but I know, deep down, that it's better this way. I need her to keep on the other side of the line at least until I have time to get myself back under control.

"We've done more than this before, Winch. We've almost had sex." Her eyes puzzle over my face, and she licks her lips softly. It makes every raging ounce of testosterone buck and jump in me, and that's exactly what I'm afraid of. I try to sit up under her, but she pins me with all her strength. I could push past her hold easily, but I don't. "No. Explain why today's different. Explain why the first time we've had together alone is all of a sudden not going to work for you."

Her mouth folds small with stubborn determination, and I'm right back where I promised I wouldn't take her; I'm forging a shortcut to breaking her heart.

My arms are starting to lose feeling, but I've seen the exact look that's on her face right now before, most recently when she convinced me to let her come to the fight. I'm still in shock that she talked me into that. She's determined as hell, and she's not going to give up until I spill.

"The fight today?" I stop, she nods, prodding me to go on. "I like to fight. I like it a lot. More than I should."

Pride marks her smile, and it makes something hot and crazy flash through me. Because she's proud of me. Of what I do. Who I am. Even the ugly parts. "I know you liked it. I watched."

"I liked it, but I have to be careful. Anything that makes me lose my focus or lose control? It's no good."

"Why?" she demands, her fingers digging into my wrists.

"I can't trust myself. I don't lose it. It's not my thing. So when I do...I just can't. Because I don't know what will happen when I do."

I replay my words in my brain, and they don't make an ounce of goddamn sense.

"I don't believe you'd ever hurt me." She kisses me on the side of the mouth, softly. "No one's ever protected me the way you do."

Her words tear me up and