Wreck Me (Corrupt Legacy Series #2)

Abigail places her hand on Kaden’s arm. I’m two seconds away from ripping his limb off. She lays her cheek on his shoulder, and he relaxes a bit.

Blake looks at my fists and says under his breath, “Reckless is one thing. Going there will cost you. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

***

I’ve been following Abigail around for a week, begging for her phone number. Her answer is always no. She’ll give in because I won’t accept her excuse that following each other on Insta means we don’t need to exchange our personal numbers.

I’ve spent more time in the library this past week than I have in my entire life, but that’s where Abigail spends most of her free time.

What can I say? I’m a persistent bastard, and I want her phone number, but she keeps refusing to give it to me. That’s her way of putting a bit of distance, but I’m going to dismantle every damn wall she tries to put between us.

She flicks through some romance books on a bookshelf and lifts her gaze. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Friends have each other’s numbers.”

“Why do you want my phone number so badly?”

“I need it.” I drag a hand down my face, sweat beading at my nape. This girl makes me nervous just by looking at me. She terrifies me. I had hundreds of horsepower under my hood and it didn’t intimidate me like she does.

She crosses her arms over her chest, which pushes her tits out. I try not to look, but I peek at them, and my cock throbs. I’ve never had this urge to get someone naked or fuck them, but my physical need can wait. I’ve gone so long without sex. I won’t ruin my chance with her because she gets me hornier than I have ever been.

“Ask me nicely.”

“I’ve been asking you nicely, princess.”

I live for her smiles, those carefree, open, enchanting ones. When she smiles genuinely, her face radiates, like a goddess of light. My legs move automatically toward her just to bathe in her nearness.

Her red lips entice me, snapping my control. I rub my thumb along the contour of her mouth. She draws in a breath.

“Your fucking red lips drive me insane…”

I still see her in the moon’s light, in the boat, before it turned to shit.

“I was this close to giving you my phone number.” She parts her thumb and forefinger an inch. I cage her in. We always end up getting nearer, coming closer, as if the axis tips over and we crash into one another.

“I want to kiss you … the things I picture those red lips doing—”

She covers my mouth with her hand. “What do I get if I give you my number?”

Considering no one except her little group has it, and none of them have budged, I’d say I’m quite desperate for it after seven days.

I place a kiss on her palm, and she yanks her hand away.

“Whatever you want,” I say.

“I want answers, honest answers. Which you should have given me just because we’re friends.”

“Fine. I’ll give you the most honest answer to one question. Then, if you still want to continue, it’s answer for answer.”

She taps her lower lip, pondering. “I read everything there is to read about you.”

She is going there. Of course she is. Everyone wants to know why I did what I did.

“Something happened the night of your win for you to behave like that. You’ve always been reckless and a bit of a rebel, but you’re a racer, so I guess in a way it comes with the job description. It must have been bad enough for you to jeopardize your career.”

My heart pounds in my throat, making it difficult for me to breathe.