“No.” Feeling panicked that he was going to slam the brakes again, I fisted his shirt and pulled him back to me. “Don’t stop.” “I don’t want to,” he replied in a gruff tone, hands moving to rest on my hip. “Trust me. But you’re going to get sick out here.” “I don’t care,” I croaked out, feeling like I would die right here on the mortal spot if he didn’t kiss me again. His gray eyes blazed with heat when he said, “Yeah, well I do.”
