Keep My Heart (Top Shelf Romance Book 7)

by Lex Martin

  “Shoot, my boss wants me to swing by really quick to discuss my work schedule.”

  I can see part of her phone screen, which is completely blank by the way, and know she’s full of shit.

  “Would you mind if I dropped you both off here and have Travis take you home?” She must be in acting classes or something because she's laying it on thick, and Viola’s following every word of it. “I'm so sorry.” She pouts out her lower lip.

  I pull the door lever and push my door open. “Let's go, V. Ass, cash, or grass. Nobody rides for free!” I smile at the scowl she flashes me.

  “That's not what Lacey Benkins told me freshman year!” she yells as she gets out, slamming the door behind her.

  “Well, I've become a better businessman since then.” I wink, loving the way it drives her mad. I grab my compressor from the back and thank Courtney for the lift.

  “Can we just get this over with?” Viola stands with her arms crossed.

  “What's the rush? Your vibrator getting lonely?”

  I set the compressor down to the first tire and start setting up. As soon as I turn it on, it drowns out Viola’s next words.

  Ten minutes later, all four tires are filled back up. I find the valve caps in my center console. Either Alyssa is more stupid than I thought, or her real intention was just to piss me off enough to make a point.

  Either way, I toss the compressor into my trunk and walk to the driver’s seat where I find Viola sitting.

  “Not in a million years,” I say, whipping the door open.

  “Why not?” she asks, her palms wrapped tightly around the wheel.

  I bend down, pressing a hand to the top of my car, holding myself up “You couldn't handle a car like this, princess. Now move over.” I nod my head toward the passenger seat.

  She licks her lips and taps her fingers. “I handled you just fine.”

  I groan, knowing exactly what she's playing. “Not happening. You don't even know how to drive a stick shift.”

  “Actually…” she begins, biting down on her lower lip.

  “You say another sexual innuendo and I'm going to pick your ass up and drag you to the other seat. Rules, remember?”

  “Okay…but don't forget the foreplay,” she mocks, scooting across the center and popping into her seat.

  I slide in and adjust the seat. “Just be glad you still have all your fingers after messing with my shit.”

  “You're not as badass as you think, Travis,” she says matter-of-factly. The engine roars to life, and I'm tempted to push her out as soon as she opens her mouth again. “Men with shiny, loud cars are usually compensating for something.”

  I reverse the Challenger out of the parking spot and shift it back into gear, squealing the tires as I drive out of the parking lot.

  “I don't have anything to compensate for,” I say, shifting again as I catch speed. “And from the sounds that came out of your mouth last night, I'd say you agree.”

  “Well to be fair, alcohol does lower a person’s inhibitions, so it's not like I was a good judge of character or anything.”

  I scoff at that. “Trust me, Viola. You were dripping wet when you stormed out last night, and if I recall correctly, with a limp, too.” I grin, thinking of just how sore she must've been when she woke up this morning.

  She lets out a dramatic snort. “You disgust me.”

  “So you've told me.”

  “Why did you kiss me last night?” she turns and asks with rage in her eyes.

  “Because you wouldn’t shut up,” I say without looking at her. It’s a lie, and she knows it. I kissed her because I damn well wanted to. “If I disgust you so much, why’d you jump me?”

  She doesn’t respond right away. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her chewing on her lower lip, contemplating her answer.

  “Bad judgment, I guess,” she says, sounding defeated. “I shouldn’t have brought Alex back to the house.”

  “Andrew,” I correct. Glancing over at her, I think about her shoulder again. The thought of it angers me, but I try to push it away.

  She chuckles. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “So why did you?”

  She shrugs, pursing her lips. “It was nice to feel wanted. I’d hope you’d be in your room, and you’d be woken up from the sounds of us coming home. I wanted you to hurt the way you hurt me.” Her voice is so soft, raw with emotion, and it’s the first time in a long time I’ve seen her this vulnerable.

  I pull the car over on the shoulder and shift the gear into park, letting it idle.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, looking around.

  I unbuckle my belt without answering her. Reaching over the center, I unbuckle hers and wait for it to zip back into place.

  “Ask me again,” I say, turning so we’re face-to-face.

  “Ask you what?” She furrows her brows.

  “Ask me again why I kissed you last night.”

  She licks her lips and swallows, tracing my features with her eyes. She shifts her body slightly toward me and blinks. “Why’d you kiss me last night?”

  The corner of my lips tilts because I’m so fucking glad she actually listened to me for once. “Because I couldn’t take another minute of not having the taste of you on my lips.”

  Oh my God.

  I feel like I can’t breathe.

  He’s taken my breath away.

  My heart beats rapidly against my chest, faster and harder with every passing moment that stays silent. Travis’s words repeat in my head, the feel of his kiss still lingering on my lips.

  This is the first time he’s admitted to wanting to kiss me ever. He’s always mocked my lack of experience, mostly by insinuating I was a virgin, but he’s never spoke aloud about wanting me in that way. Last night only happened because I had pushed his buttons, and he had something to prove.

  Up until he just spoke those words, I never believed he would be interested in me that way.

  I still don’t believe it.

  I’m losing myself in his words and my thoughts. The memories of our childhood and of last night are almost too much to handle. My insides tingle at the roughness of his voice, and I think I’m in shock. Words evade me, and when I look back up at him, he’s staring, trying to read me.

  I’ve been waiting for him to say those words for over ten years. Instead, the words I heard him say crushed everything I thought I knew about him. He’s staring at me, and for a moment, I see something flash in his eyes, which causes his entire demeanor to shift. It almost looks like regret.

  “I don’t want to be your pity fuck, Travis.” He flinches as if I slapped him across the face. Maybe it felt like it. Maybe I meant it as one, too.

  “Pity fuck? Is that what you think last night was?” He nearly growls, his jaw tightening.

  I shrug, keeping my emotions on the defensive. No matter how my body reacts to him, I need to always stay in control.

  “I told you. I wanted to be used and fucked like a meaningless one-night stand, so of course that’s what it was. But I know it wasn’t anything more than that. You saw Andrew and saw red. You wanted poor little pathetic Viola all to yourself, even if you could never truly have me.”

  I know I'm being the hypocrite here, but I need to do everything I can to push him away. I can’t afford to get tangled in his web of heartaches again.

  “Is that so?” he challenges. “So it was just an itch you needed to scratch?” I don't miss the accusatory message behind his tone.

  “Yup.”

  “I call bullshit,” he spits out, his eyes narrowing in on me. “You only used Andrew as a pawn to get to me. You can't tell me you haven't been begging for it since before your tits grew in and your mouth was filled with metal. Is that why you hated me so much?”

  “The only time I've begged for anything from you was during a moment of weakness and a moment of alcohol-induced stupidity. And my reason for hating you goes much deeper than that.”

  He coughs out a fake laugh, his eyes widenin
g in disbelief. “Moment of weakness, my ass. If I felt between your legs right now, you'd be drenched, wouldn't you? You can lie to me all damn day, but your body will always give you away, princess.”

  “Even if I was, you wouldn't do anything about it. You don't go back for seconds. Tag ’em and bag ’em, right?”

  “Good lord, it's like you’re this genius little book rat but when it comes to actual common sense, your mind can't comprehend anything over frat house knowledge.”

  “That's not true,” I defend weakly.

  “Then kiss me,” he demands. “Kiss me and I’ll prove you have as much willpower as a peanut.”

  I snort, rolling my eyes. “You're pathetic. You really think I'm going to lower myself to your standards and play your stupid little game?”

  He leans over the center console and cups my cheek as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of my neck, pressing his lips just under my ear. His touch sends electricity down my spine and momentarily paralyzes my vocal cords. His lips move, and I can feel his warm touch all over my neck and shoulders. My eyes flutter closed as my head falls back, giving him all the access he needs.

  “Tell me to stop,” he demands, pressing his lips harder against my skin. He nips with his teeth, and I hold back a moan.

  “Push me away,” he challenges, pressing his lips against the shell of my ear.

  Damn him. Damn him and his perfect, soft lips and his perfect, warm hands touching my face. I want to stop him. I want to have the upper hand, but he's so right. I have zero willpower when it comes to him. Even the thoughts in my mind start to disappear.

  “Your skin tastes like warm honey,” he whispers against my collarbone. “I could kiss this neck for hours.”

  His hand palms my breast and squeezes with force, and having no self-control to stop him, I arch my back against his hand and moan.

  “I knew you were hungry, princess. But goddamn, you're a starving little vixen, aren't you?”

  My body shudders by the way his words tickle my neck. His hot breath against my skin makes it impossible to form words. My throat squeezes tight, releasing a deep moan that teases him just right.

  “Fuck, Viola,” he growls, bringing his mouth over mine but not quite touching. “Say it,” he whispers. “Say you want me just as much as I want you.”

  The earnest way his words come out make me want to believe he's being genuine. I feel completely vulnerable in his arms, but I don't know if that's enough to trust him.

  “You aren't the boss of me,” I spit back my earlier words at him with a sly grin.

  “If we weren't parked off the road on a busy street, I’d bend your ass over so fast, you wouldn't even have time to brace yourself.”

  I tick the corner of my lips up, wanting to push his boundaries. I move closer to him, letting my lips rest against his. “So improvise.”

  He presses his lips to mine in a heated rush of need and desire. My body gives in, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer.

  “Sit back,” he says, breaking the kiss. I do as I'm told and watch him climb into the back seat of his Challenger. Once he adjusts himself, I watch as he undoes his dress slacks and pulls them down to his ankles. I notice the large bulge in his boxer shorts and memories of last night send an ache between my legs. “Saddle up, princess.”

  My brows shoot up in surprise. “Here? Right now?”

  “Tinted windows,” he says as if that's a good enough reason. “What? You worried someone will see you not being a perfect saint?”

  “Don't be an asshole,” I say, crawling to the back. “And I'm not a perfect saint.” I begin to unbutton my jeans and pull them down and off. I straddle his lap and feel his erection against my panties.

  “Prove it then.” He leans back with his arms behind his head, and his lips in a crooked smile.

  “Fuck you in the back seat of your Challenger to prove what? That I don't have standards?”

  He grabs the outside of my bare thighs and rubs himself against my core. The pressure adds to the desperate ache that's already there. “That you're actually a bad girl hidden behind the dorky glasses and Harry Potter T-shirts.”

  “Do you just have to push every damn button of mine?” I widen my legs, falling harder against him. I rotate my hips and feel him growing harder underneath me.

  “Don't fuck with me, princess,” he warns, bringing his hips up to rub against my pussy again, his fingers digging into my skin. I start grinding against him faster, his head falling back against the seat with a throaty groan.

  “And why's that?” I whisper with confidence. “You going to—”

  He slides a finger under the fabric of my panties and moves them to the side. He rubs his thumb over my clit that's already sensitive and aching. He adds just the right amount of pressure to make my body sing.

  My hands rest on his shoulders and squeeze as he slides a finger inside. I grind my hips down and feel him go deeper. “You want to tell me again how I’m not the boss of you?”

  I want to slap that smug look right off his face, but instead, I lean down and kiss him. At least I can shut him up for now.

  He slides a second finger in, moving faster and pressing deeper. He swallows my moans with his mouth and kisses me with absolute ferocity.

  “Don’t forget my rules, Viola,” he warns as my body tightens to a crescendo.

  I release a harsh breath, resting my forehead against his as the buildup slows, then releases. I grit my teeth, and say, “One.”

  He smiles. “That’s my good girl.”

  I shake my head at him, narrowing my eyes. “You’re such an egotistical asshole.”

  “Whatever keeps the fire burning,” he quips, his fingers sinking deep inside again. “You think it’d be this good if we didn’t hate each other so much?”

  I grind against his hand, feeling the pressure build up again.

  “Everyone has their own ways of getting off, princess. And pissing you off, seeing that look of distaste on your face, only makes me harder.”

  “So you’re saying hate-fucking is some kind of fetish of yours?”

  “Just with you, Viola.” He smiles, pulling me closer and pressing his mouth to mine. “Only you.”

  I count to three before I can no longer take it and demand he fucks me. He has me reach behind to grab a condom out of his center console.

  “Condoms in your car? Really?” I ask as I hand it to him. “Could you be any more cliché?

  “Could you be any more desperate to ride it?” he counters, a sly smirk on his face, having zero shame.

  I roll my eyes, pinching my lips together to hold in an amused chuckle. Why is it even the most crass things he says makes me melt like a pathetic love-sick puppy?

  Sitting back, I watch him lower his shorts and roll the condom over his massive hard-on. He grabs my hips and positions my body over him, sliding in slowly. He looks up at me, watching for my reaction. My eyes flutter closed as the sensation takes over my body, and everything turns white. God, the way he makes me feel is indescribable. I hate him and his cocky attitude. The way he knows how to get exactly what he wants, even when I’m fighting it inside.

  I’m completely losing myself in him. With every second, my heart beats a little faster, falls a little deeper, and every time his mouth covers mine, I forget how much he broke me in the past.

  “Your pussy squeezes my dick so fucking hard,” he growls, fisting his hand in my hair as his other hand digs into my hip, rocking my body against his. His words make me grind into him faster and faster, wanting to see the look of satisfaction on his face.

  “Fuck, princess. You like it so goddamn rough, don’t you?” His head falls back against the seat again, both hands gripping my waist as he arches his hips and pounds into me harder.

  “Yesyesyesyes…” I cry, feeling him all the way inside me.

  “One more,” he says, knowing exactly what he wants from me, but I’m not sure I can. My body is aching.

  “I can’t,” I breathe out, panting.
I’ve already counted to seven.

  I see a sly smirk spread across his face. I know that look. “Oh, come on, you’re not even trying.”

  “Screw you,” I hiss, knowing it’s exactly the reaction he’s looking for.

  He chuckles, reaching up and pulling my shirt and bra up. He sits up while keeping me in his lap and licks the tip of my nipple that’s standing at attention. He blows warm air over it while massaging the other one. I rock my hips faster against him as he wraps his mouth around the nipple and sucks it into his mouth.

  He moans his approval, and before he can move to my other nipple, I count out number eight. I’m completely spent. My legs feel numb from kneeling around him and my back feels like it might give out at any moment.

  “Stay with me, Viola,” he says, looking up at me. He must sense my exhaustion because before I can come to terms with what he’s doing, he wraps an arm around my waist and repositions us. Soon, I’m lying flat against the seats with him on top of me. “I see those years of gymnastics are paying off.” He spreads my legs wider, pushing himself back inside before I can think of a comeback.

  There’s nothing sweet or romantic about what Travis King does to me next. He jackhammers into me, pulling all the way out and ramming back inside me as if he has a point to prove. With every movement, it’s almost as if he’s claiming me as his.

  I brace my hands above my head on the panel as he palms my breast with so much force, I’m certain they’ll bruise. But that doesn’t even compare to what his dick is doing to me right now. He’s so fucking hard, and my pussy is so damn sore that I can’t keep up with his pace.

  “Goddammit, Viola,” he growls, his hips never slowing down. “You feel so fucking good. I can’t control myself around you.”

  I arch my hips in response, feeling him slide in even deeper. He hits just the right spot before I’m screaming out his name, and he’s moaning his release. I feel him tighten as he digs his fingers into my thighs, his back arching with every burst I feel inside me.

  “Holy fuck,” I hear him mumble, his chest rising and falling. My breaths come out in short bursts, trying to catch up.

  Before we have time to say anything, a bright light flashes into the rear windshield.