Pop The Clutch: A Second Gear Romance

by Kristin Harte

  “Yes, sir,” I said with a laugh. “I’ll put on my best yoga pants.”

  As I hurried down the hall, I was pretty sure I heard him mutter a “sinful ass” comment. Not that I minded.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EASTON

  I was on the couch, television remote in hand, when Violet walked into the family room. My heart fucking skipped, and my breath tried to freeze right there in my throat. How did that girl do this to me? Make me feel like a kid again, like the luckiest bastard just to be allowed to be near her? There was no denying it. I was a goner.

  “Hey,” she said quietly, her voice soft. Awkward, almost. That wouldn’t do.

  “Hey yourself. I ordered the pizza. Pepperoni and olive, right?”

  She stared, eyes locked on mine. Good God, my heart and my dick were both far too responsive to her every expression, her every breath. Her every look. I had to get myself under control, but she was even more beautiful like this. Hair wet and hanging down, no makeup on her face, looking young and perfect. So much more her. That hate gurgling within me for what Jace and his stupid fucking video had done to her burned hotter, brighter. He’d hurt her, had sat back and watched her crumble. But I’d help her put herself back together…if she let me.

  “How do you remember that?” she asked, all soft and breathy.

  And wasn’t that the question of the hour? How did I remember so much about that night? How could I not? Seeing her shadow through the pouring rain as she’d trudged home, the way her hair had lain soaking wet and dripping just like now, how I hadn’t been able to stand the thought of letting her out of my sight when she’d seemed so broken, so hopeless. So the opposite of what I’d always known her to be. We hadn’t even spoken through high school, had never really had a reason to, but that night, I’d taken her for pizza and had given her a chance to dry off before dropping her at this very house. And it was one of the most vivid memories I had outside of the ones of my family.

  “I remember everything about that night, Violet,” I whispered, giving her my full truth. I stood, approaching her slowly, afraid of scaring her off. My mind kept circling around the past, which meant I needed to take that step. Needed to know. “But I don’t know everything about it. What happened with that video?”

  Her hands shook as she pulled a lock of hair away from her face, her eyes not meeting mine. “What you expect happened. I had sex in a place with cameras. It was filmed, and the video got out.”

  Blunt. On the offensive. Hiding. That wouldn’t do. “You forget that I picked you up from the side of the road in the pouring rain.”

  Her eyes met mine, glaring, pain-filled. “I forget nothing.”

  I nearly took a step back. That expression, the anger and the hurt, it wrecked me inside. Jesus fuck, what had Jace done to her? “Then explain it to me. You had sex, no big deal. But something else happened to make you attempt to walk home in a downpour. Something that hurt you. The idea that I didn’t do more to help you has haunted me for years.”

  She huffed a disbelieving breath and shook her head. “You’ve seen the video, I assume?”

  Fucking Colton. I wouldn’t have seen the infamous video, had refused to watch it after that night, but he’d brought it over. He’d played it, and I’d sat rapt by every frame. By her. She’d been so fucking gorgeous, I’d barely been able to blink. “Yeah. Once.”

  A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips. “Once. Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone had only seen it once?”

  The look on her face as she implied I’d watched that clip more than I admitted was one I knew would haunt me forever. She didn’t believe me, whether it was because she didn’t trust me or she just didn’t trust, I couldn’t tell.

  “Violet—”

  The doorbell rang before I could finish my sentence. I breathed a curse, but Violet relaxed, almost seeming to welcome the interruption.

  “Must be the pizza,” she said. Her voice was calm, no longer angry. Relieved, really. As much as I hated giving in, perhaps bypassing the conversation for the moment was best. I’d come at her too hard, obviously. If I wanted her to tell me anything about that time, I was going to have to change my tactics.

  “I’ll get it, and then we can ignore the fact that I started this conversation and get back to talking about which vegetables would make the best weapons during a zombie apocalypse.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were trained on the floor.

  I lifted her chin with one finger and angled my head to finally meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I brought it up. They’re your secrets, and I shouldn’t have tried to make you tell me them. I just…I want to know you, Violet Foster. Everything.”

  After a quick kiss to the cheek, I hurried to the door. She needed a moment to collect herself, and I needed one to get my head on straight. The topic of Jace and the video were off-limits. For now, at least. Hopefully we’d be able to talk about it eventually, but I had my doubts. Violet wasn’t the face-your-demons type. She’d run from her past, just like she mentally ran from our conversation about it. And the last thing I wanted was to make her run.

  Once I’d paid for the two pies, I met Violet in the kitchen. She’d laid out paper plates, napkins, and a couple of jars of spices and Parmesan cheese. I eyed her hard, searching for signs of distress and nearly sighing when I didn’t see any. She looked calm, which both eased my mind and sent my stomach plummeting. She wasn’t dealing…she was hiding. Again.

  “Two?” she asked, her brow drawn down as she took in the boxes in my hands.

  I pushed aside my worries, wanting to enjoy my evening with her. Even if it was borrowed time. “One for me, one for you.”

  “I won’t eat a whole pizza.”

  I shrugged. “Leftovers. Besides, I can’t eat green olives on my pizza.”

  “You could have just bought one. I don’t need my own just because I like a particular thing.”

  I leaned down, pressing my lips against hers for the briefest of kisses. “You’re worth an extra pizza.”

  Her cheeks darkened, her blush spreading in a way that made my dick sit up and take notice. Damn, this girl was something else. Innocence and pure sexual energy combined with a fragility that made my inner caveman exclaim mine. I wanted to fuck her and protect her, an odd sort of combination at times. But it was time to eat, not to throw her up on the counter and crawl between her legs, no matter how much that was what I would rather do.

  Plates and drinks in hand, I followed her into the family room where we set up a mini picnic on the coffee table. Those tights she wore pulled across her firm ass as she bent to set napkins next to our plates. I almost got caught staring, but I focused on the pizzas when she turned around.

  “Movie or TV?” I asked, refusing to even glance at her. Don’t look at her ass. Don’t look at her ass.

  Thankfully, she sat down on the floor, removing the temptation. “Whatever.”

  “I didn’t see any zombie shows or movies on, so hopefully nostalgia will win out.” I turned on an older movie, one of those teen flicks from the eighties. All I remembered was some guy and a duck, I think. Or maybe he was named Duck. Wait, wasn’t there something about a name and a major appliance? Shit, I had no clue, but the main actress was a redhead. Violet had once been a redhead, though her hair hadn’t been as bright. Still…the look appealed.

  After a dinner filled with mocking comments about the movie, we moved to the couch. For the longest time, we sat stiffly beside one another, not talking, simply staring at the screen before us. Awkward and totally not right. Not enough. I had to change the vibe between us.

  Feeling just like I had on some of my first dates as a kid, just as nervous and afraid of failure, I stretched and dropped my arm around her shoulders. Thankful when she didn’t shrug me off. Once I had a hold of her, Violet snuggled into my side and sighed. Jackpot.

  But then she looked up at me with a mischievous expression. “While I haven’t dealt with the old stretch-and-grab since I was a teenager, I have to admit that was u
tterly smooth.”

  Busted. Not that I minded. “I try, though that move only has a seventy-five percent success rate. It was a risk.”

  “It paid off.”

  And just like that, the awkward tension dissipated, leaving behind something warmer and subtler. I ran my fingers up her arm as she leaned into me, liking the way her skin felt. Liking the way she felt. She shifted closer, head on my shoulder, dropping her hand to my knee. Killing me with one simple touch. Setting me on fire when that hand moved up my thigh. Way up.

  I was in so much trouble.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  VIOLET

  I was in so much trouble.

  Easton was never supposed to get under my skin like he had. I wasn’t supposed to start falling for him. Wasn’t supposed to want to touch him the way I did. But that innate sweetness about him—that kindness buried under his rough-around-the-edges exterior—was irresistible. It drove me crazy. I wanted him, and I wasn’t willing to back off.

  Testing the waters, so to speak, I moved my hand back and forth. A simple, subtle rub. Barely anything, at least not to me. But Easton’s thigh tensed, the muscles bunching beneath my fingertips. Jesus, the man was just so solid. My touch obviously meant something to him.

  Emboldened by his responsiveness, I rubbed more, but with wider, longer strokes, pressing harder on each pass. Easton coughed, slipping down in his seat a bit, his knees spreading. Giving me more room, it seemed. I bit back a smile and pretended to watch the TV as I really concentrated on him. Every stuttered breath, every twitch in his leg. Every clench of his fist when I moved my hand higher. Every single response feeding my own desires, making my breath come quicker. My skin warm at the thought of what my touch was doing to him.

  Daring, bold, wanting him for more than a simple make-out session, I inched my hand over the top of his thigh, letting my fingertips trail along the inner seam of his pants. Imagining what it would feel like to have his hand on me. Squeezing as a quiet moan escaped my lips.

  “Shit,” Easton said, his voice quiet but forceful. I glanced up, ready to make a joke, but he cut me off. Using one arm to yank me toward him, he crashed his lips to mine, kissing me with a strength I hadn’t expected. Stealing my breath and making my heart jump. I pushed up, hands on his thighs, responding to his kiss in kind. Needing more. Wanting so much.

  We were all lips and tongue, moving in a hot, wet, sliding sort of kiss. A kiss that was just as intense as he could be. A perfect kiss that sent heat blazing through my body, making me moan. Making me clench. His lips felt good, but his hands grabbing at me—owning my flesh with their hold—nearly made my world explode right there.

  Easton pulled me with him as he lay back then rolled me underneath him. His weight on me was like a drug, one that set my heart racing and lit my body on fire. One that made me mewl like a cat. I tried to move, to writhe or thrust or do something to ease the ache his touch set off, but Easton wanted to be in control. He pinned me down, notching his hips between my thighs, pressing against me in a way that made me gasp.

  And all things good and sweet, wasn’t that just the best feeling in the world?

  “We’re on your grandma’s couch,” he whispered just before he kissed and bit his way down my neck.

  I threw my head back, eyes closed. “I know.”

  He chuckled, one huge hand cupping my breast and pushing it up to meet his mouth. Even through my clothes, I could feel the heat and the dampness of his breath. The pressure of his lips on me. I didn’t think I’d ever wanted to be naked more than right then. “Should we go to your room?”

  Good idea in theory, but there were memories in that room. Good and bad, many tinged with Jace. I didn’t want to mar this moment with all that. Didn’t want to taint what we were about to do. “Please. Here. Now.”

  I gripped his shoulders as he nodded once, letting my body wrap itself around him. Squeezing him closer with my thighs around his hips. Rubbing against where he was already so hard.

  “Fuck,” he said with an intensity that made the word sound almost like a prayer, rocking his hips into mine and pressing on just the right spot. “This feels like high school.”

  When he rubbed over my clit in a way that made me see stars, I yanked his head to bring his face back to mine and bit his lip. “High school sucked. Make this better.”

  There was no hesitation from Easton, no verbal response to my challenge either. He was a man of action, not words, so he acted. He pressed me into the couch, kissing me harder, longer. Demanding deeper kisses and more contact. His entire body shifted with every roll of his hips, muscles bulging in his legs and arms. His chest and abs. Good God, his abs felt like steel against me. I needed to explore him, to feel every inch of his body, but our current location didn’t lend itself to too many maneuvers. We were pretty much locked in one hell of a good position, and I wasn’t going to ruin that by trying to be creative. I’d take my time another day.

  Impatient, I reached between us. Easton pulled back, staring down at my hands as I worked the fly of his pants. A button, a zipper, a slide of fabric on skin, and Easton’s breath speeding as my hands did the work. As I moved the needle on this night.

  “You sure about this?” he asked, finally bringing his eyes back to mine. They were so dark, the pupils wide, a look of wildness in them. Face flushed, breathing hard, holding himself above me on one arm, he was the epitome of sexy in that moment. Of carnal desire and a need that would have to be slaked. And I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

  “Still friends, right?” I pulled him, needing his weight. Craving his closeness.

  He nodded slowly, his brow pulled down. A lie, but one I was willing to look past. I wasn’t even sure which side of friendship we were on anymore. I wasn’t even sure it mattered. His warmth had become my favorite drug, the roughness of his hands a high all on its own. God help me, but I was ready for this sweet addiction. Ready and wanting it.

  Easton rolled his hips against mine, meeting my lips for a soft, sweet kiss, his breath warm on my face. And then his hands were everywhere. Pulling up my shirt, fingers sliding under the waist of my pants and panties to yank them both down. Back up to tease my breasts. Down again to push what he could over my hips and thighs. But he kept coming back to my mouth, kept kissing me as if those kisses were like air. Kept breathing me in with every pass. I was strung tight, needing so much more, tired of waiting for it. An ache that needed to be eased had settled between my legs, one that grew with every pass of his rough hands on my skin. One that craved more of his soft lips on my body. My flesh burned for more, and it was time to take it. I was certainly able to undress myself, even lying underneath a man the size of Easton.

  I kicked the fabric off one leg, too hurried to bother taking them off completely. Needy and desperate and wanting. And wet. So damned wet. Easton grabbed my bare thigh, fingers pressing deep into my flesh while he pulled my leg over his hip. His skin was so warm, his muscles hard under my hands. Strong. The rich scent of him—that deep, natural manly essence that told me he wasn’t the kind of guy to wear cologne—blanketed me. Making it hard to breathe anything but him. Making it hard to find where he ended and I began. His erection sat nestled where I wanted it, sliding over me in a most obscene way. His hips driving into mine as I spread my legs wider for him. But he didn’t push inside. Not yet. He teased. Rolling his body, using his flesh to drive me farther up that hill toward a crash. A good crash…the kind that would leave me breathless and shaking. The kind that would take away all the memories and fear, the worries and stress.

  “Damn, Violet. You’re so fucking soft and wet,” he whispered, his voice gritty with desperation.

  I nodded into his neck, too turned on to care about words. I was a needful thing, all nerve endings and desire. Set on one goal, one thought, one want. And Easton was what I wanted. “Please.”

  He chuckled, edging down my body. His mouth leaving a path of fire as he trailed kisses along my sternum and to my breasts. Every inch of
me responded, growing warmer, itching for his touch. I arched my back, wanting more. Offering myself to him without words.

  He answered me by grabbing my breasts, his hands rough against my skin, his touch firmer than I’d ever been prepared for. He pushed my breasts together—sucking, licking, biting my nipples. A constant stream of pleasure tinged with pain at the heart of me. My whole body shook, tremors rocking me from head to toe as he teased me past the point of surrender with the sheer desperation in his touch. He didn’t try to be gentle or soft, to treat me as if I was a delicate flower. No, he manhandled me, and I loved it.

  “Easton,” I gasped as the emptiness inside created a deep yearning, as my body clenched once, twice at the nothingness. “Please.”

  He gave my nipple one last, long lick before he jumped back to his knees, reaching behind him as he did. “Gotta get a condom.”

  I nodded, running my fingers up those abs I’d felt earlier and lifting his shirt. Damn, he was gorgeous. Not body-builder hard, but muscled and toned. Fit. He grabbed my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth, kissing the palm before setting it on my thigh. And then he moved, and there was nothing else in the world to focus on but that.

  His fingers wrapped around his cock, his hand stroking three times up and down his length, teasing himself in an almost unconscious way. Getting ready for what I knew was about to happen. Working toward it. Every inch on display, every touch for me to watch. And I did—I was helpless to look away.

  He stared at me while I watched his hand, his eyes a physical force against my skin. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” he murmured, his voice soft and deep. Hot.

  “God, so are you.” I ran my teeth along my bottom lip as I slid a hand down my stomach. As I let my fingers drag along the flesh made wet by Easton’s actions. As I watched his eyes grow wilder because of what I was doing.