Page 81 of Drowning Erin
He’s moving so fast I have to run to catch up to him. Between the darkness and my three-inch heels, it’s harder than it sounds. “Give me back my fucking phone!” I shout as Iapproach.
He rounds on me. “What’s your rush, Erin? Eager to have another romantic chat with Rob?” My eyes have adjusted to the darkness just enough to see the rage in his eyes, though he has no right to beangry.
“What do you care?” I yell. “Youobviouslyweren't going home alone. And since I'm clearly not enough for you, just go back inside and gether.”
“I don’t want her. I didn’t even invite her to the table. She just followed methere.”
Part of me wants to believe him, but another part of me insists it’s time to face facts. What happened tonight is going to happen eventually—when Brendan tires of me, or when Rob comes home—and when it does I’ll be destroyed. That’s why you don’t give yourself to someone with whom there’s an expiration date; because you’re probably not getting all of yourself back when itends.
Brendan swings my door open so roughly I half expect it to come off in his hand. “Get in,” hegrowls.
“I’m not getting in your fucking car. Give me back my phone. I don't need thisshit."
“I think you do,” he replies, and I find myself pressed against the Jeep. His mouth lands on mine at nearly the same moment, his fingers digging into my back, pulling me so tight against him I can barely get a full breath. It’s not Brendan’s usual kiss—there’s something rough and desperate about it, the rasp of his unshaved jaw scraping my skin, the hard press of his mouth and the thrust of his tongue. I’ve never been so excited in my life, and I’ve also never been so heartbroken. Every bad thing I’ve felt over the past hour is something I know I’m going to feelagain.
I hear the sound of his zipper, and then his fingers slide between my legs, pushing my thong to theside.
"Already wet," he says smugly. "That didn't takelong."
He lifts me against the car and pushes inside me so hard that I feel winded from it. He pins me there, effortlessly, capturing my small moans with his mouth. The relentless slap of his skin against mine is the only sound Ihear.
"Oh, God," he groans. "This…fuck."
He doesn’t complete the thought, and he doesn’t need to. Sex with Brendan is always amazing, but this is different. Way different. It’s only just started, and I’m alreadyclose.
His hands tighten under my ass as he thrusts harder, once, twice, my back thumping against the door of the Jeep, my breathing nearly as harsh as his. He buries his mouth in my neck. "Christ,” he groans. “I'm not gonnalast."
I dig my fingers into the bunched muscles beneath his shirt, tighten myself around him. "Don’t squeeze like that,” hepleads.
Except I can’t help it. Because I can’t lasteither.
"Oh, God," I moan, my head going backward, eyes squeezed shut. It’s so good that I hear nothing, don’t care that we’re in public, am only vaguely aware of the low growl in his chest as hecomes.
He's still holding me up against the car, his head pressed to myshoulder.
"Holy shit," I whisper. "What the hell justhappened?"
"I think we just had sex in a parkinglot.”
I sigh. “Not that, smart ass. I just meant it feltdifferent."
He lifts me just enough to pull out, and when he does, a rush of fluidfollows.
“Shit,” I gasp, staring at my legs. "You didn't wear a condom. That’s why it wasdifferent.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, flinching. “I got carried away. We can get a morning-after pill or something,right?"
“I’m not worried aboutpregnancy,” I reply. “I’m on thepill.”
His jaw drops. "Then why have we been using condoms this wholetime?"
"Brendan, you've slept with more girls than most men evenknowover the course of their lives. Call me crazy, but I don't feel like dying of AIDS justyet."
He rolls his eyes. "I've done my fair share of sleeping around, Erin, but I'm alwayscareful."
"You're really going to tell me that right now?" I ask, glancingdown.
"The only other girl I haven't used a condom with sincehigh schoolwas Gabi,” he says. “You realize what this means, right? No morecondoms.”