My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95 One Step Over The Line

A shudder wrecked his massive frame. He held himself back. He fought the primal urge to consume the distance, battling the belief that

he carried a poison capable of ruining me.

I refused to let the hesitation win.

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I tightened my grip on the wet, dark hair at the nape of his neck. I pressed closer, eliminating the final fraction of an inch separating our mouths. I slanted my head, demanding the connection he was terrified to take.

Ryder let out a low groan.

He crushed his lips against mine, turning the ghost of a touch into a devastating reality.

He kissed me like a dying man drawing his final breath. He tasted of dark coffee, cold rain, and absolute heartbreak. His mouth moved

over mine with a punishing, bruising need.

I opened to him. The slide of his tongue against mine sent a shockwave straight to my core. A rushing heat flooded my veins, chasing away the freezing chill of the downpour.

He moved his hands from my waist. His palms slid up the sides of my soaked sweater, wrapping around my ribs. He hoisted me higher against the metal door of the Ford. My feet dangled above the flooded asphalt. I locked my ankles behind his calves, anchoring myself to

his solid weight.

The rain poured in heavy, relentless sheets. The water plastered our clothes to our skin. It dripped from his dark eyelashes onto my cheeks. I did not care about the cold. I did not care about my ruined clothes.

He deepened the kiss. His grip on my ribs tightened, possessing and cherishing me in the same motion. He angled his head, changing the rhythm, making the exchange more demanding.

My lungs burned for oxygen, but I refused to break the contact. I chased the taste of him. I dug my fingernails into his wet black t-shirt, pulling him flush against my body.

He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second to drag a ragged breath into his lungs. He pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth. He trailed open-mouthed kisses along the line of my jaw, moving down to the sensitive skin just below my ear.”

“Raisa, he breathed against my neck. His voice was a desperate rasp.

He buried his face in the curve of my shoulder. He held me tight, burying the horrors of his past in the space between our beating hearts. We stood on the precipice of something massive.

A high-pitched, mechanical whine cut through the noise of the storm.

The sound grew louder, accompanied by the heavy, grinding roar of a modified engine. The vibration shook the puddles on the cracked

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Chapter 95 One Step Over The Line

asphalt.

🙂

Two blinding beams of white light swept across the dark lot. The headlights cut through the torrential rain, illuminating the rusted cars

and the dying embers of the bonfire.

A rusted, lifted pickup truck tore around the corner of the chain-link fence. The driver did not hit the brakes. He aimed the massive vehicle straight across the flooded lot, headed toward the exit on the main street.

The truck sped toward our position.

Ryder’s head snapped up. His predator instincts flared. The lethal, protective edge returned to his posture in a split second. He grabbed my waist, turning his body to shield me from the approaching vehicle.

The rusted pickup did not slow down. It blew past us, the engine screaming over the rain.

The massive, treaded tires hit a deep crater in the asphalt mere feet from where we stood.

A tidal wave of freezing, muddy street water erupted from the pothole.

The filthy deluge hit us with the force of a physical blow. The freezing sludge splashed across Ryder’s back, soaking his jeans and his black t-shirt. The spray hit my legs, drenching the lower half of my denim jeans in freezing, gritty mud.

The truck peeled out onto the main road, the red taillights vanishing into the dark.

The spell shattered.

The agonizing, beautiful tension we built evaporated into the freezing air. The shock of the freezing mud acted like a bucket of ice water dumped over a roaring fire.

Ryder jerked backward. He dropped his hands from my ribs, breaking the connection.

I hit the asphalt. My combat boots splashed into the shallow puddle gathering near his truck tire. I gasped, the sudden cold biting straight through my wet clothes.

I looked at him.

‘Get in, Ryder commanded.

His voice was dead. It held no anger. It held no gravelly warmth. It was a flat, mechanical drone.

“Ryder, I started, reaching a hand out to touch his chest.

He took a large step back. He dodged my hand.

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