Heathen: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 2) Rachel Leigh (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

bulge in his joggers. My heart beats at warp speed inside my chest and I hate that I'm so awkward. I give it a couple squeezes and when I feel it twitch, I stop, thinking I squeezed too hard. "Sorry."

He lifts his head from my shoulder and looks into my eyes and I wanna tell him to put his head back down so he doesn’t look at me. "For what?"

"Did that hurt?"

He laughs. "Trust me, nothing you do can hurt me. I don't even think you're capable."

Oh, you have no idea. 

Just as the thought leaves my mind, his lips crash into mine and it's everything. God, he tastes as good as he looks. Like berries and mint. And his scent, Lord help me. I feel tipsy and off-balance from that alone. It's like my body takes over and my mind doesn't allow me to think anymore as the kiss intensifies. His tongue sweeps around my mouth as if it's searching for something, and I'm not sure what has possessed me, but I do the same to him.

My hands end up on the back of his head as I pull him closer, never wanting him to break free. If I could capture this moment and keep it forever, I would.

My feet begin moving in sync with his as he takes a few steps backwards, our mouths never parting.

Does he feel what I feel? He has to. That crazy pressure inside my chest. Butterflies. Fireworks. Fear. Love. Hate. It's like every emotion in existence is spilling into this kiss. Our steps stop when the back of his legs hit the bed. He lowers his back down, slowly taking me with him.

With my legs shouldering his body, his erection presses through the fabric of his pants right in front of where I sit on top of him. I feel like I'm on display and I should feel uncomfortable, but I don't.

My forearms rest around his head and in a matter of seconds, our kiss intensifies, giving me the urge to tear into him. Gripping the pillow behind him, I begin rocking myself against his erection.

"Fuck, Willa. What have you done to me?" he grumbles into my mouth.

I can feel myself smile in response. I'm doing this to him. He wants me. Not because of the baby. Not because of his guilt. I gave him this hard-on.

Feeling brave, I stretch my hand down between us and begin rubbing him. He must take it as an invitation, which it most definitely was, because the next thing I know, he springs it free and I'm stroking his length.

Something unexpected and unwanted rolls through me and my strokes slow. It’s hard to breathe and a distaste curdles inside my stomach.

His head lifts off the mattress. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

It's something. I didn't feel it in the shower or when we had sex last time. But harrowing thoughts flood through my mind and I wanna scream at them to go away. To leave and never come back. I want to unfeel Rick. Untaste his disgusting cum in my mouth. I can feel the burn of his touch on my throat. His words echoing in my ears. Whore. Slut. Sinner.

I want to forget it all. Why am I thinking about this? Why is this happening to me?

"Willa?" Lars says with sheer concern. "Are you ok?"

I snap out of it and wonder how long I was lost. Jumping up quickly, I flee to the bathroom. Slamming the door shut and clicking the lock. With my back pressed to the door, I slide down slowly until my butt hits the floor. My fingers wrap around my neck as I try to wipe away Rick's imprints.

Lars knocks on the door. "Hey. What happened?"

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

He knocks again. "Open the door so we can talk."

"I..I just need a minute."

God, I'm such an idiot to think that leaving would make me forget. He's everywhere. He's planted himself in my head and he'll always be there.

The handle of the door begins twisting as he tries to open it and something shifts inside of me. I get on my hands and knees and begin crawling away from the door. Turning around, I sit down against the wall underneath a window. "Go away," I shout with my eyes locked on the handle. It keeps moving. Pinching my eyes shut, I pray under my breath. "The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?"

"Willa. Open the door."

I repeat the prayer silently. The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? When he doesn't go away, I scream, "Go away!" My fingers dig into the floor at my sides. My nails dragging across it as I try to get some sort of grip. On life. On myself.

It goes quiet.

Too quiet.

"Rick?" I say out loud.

When he doesn't respond, my body stills as I try to listen for an inkling that he's trying to trick me again.

The door handle begins moving again and I'm quickly on my feet. I have to get out of here. I turn around and push the blinds up on the window then unlatch the lock. I hear the doorknob drop, and my heart goes right along with it. Shoving the window up, I push out the screen and begin climbing up onto the sill.

"Willa, what the hell are you doing?" His heavy footsteps come toward me.

"Go away!" I fling one leg over, but I'm not fast enough. He grabs me. Only, it's not Rick.

"Lars?" My voice comes out confused and like that of a child. He takes me by the waist and he sets me down on my feet, but his hands never leave my sides.

His eyebrows dip. His concern apparent. "I have no idea what's going on, but we're at least thirty feet from the ground up here and