I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

28 (NEW)

SAM

We hit the road in the afternoon, and now time had flown into night again. Our location is right out of Tennessee. The routine repeats as if scripted. I'd stop for gas, food, and Chris would use the restroom, then meet at the counter. I have spoken under six words to him for almost two days now. Should I ease up? Is this enough punishment for him? Maybe...maybe the lesson has sunk in.

I've never seen Chris this mute. Ever. So that's a sign that he's thinking. Good.

I glance through the rear view mirror, feeling shitty and remorseful. He's asleep, his back facing me. The sound of the tires rumbling the road; fills the car. I focus back on driving.

Yeah, when he wakes up, I'll ease up, but I won't forgive him. I have to do something before the regret builds. He must know this isn't easy for me.

Chris probably thinks I'm so heartless right now...that I can mistreat him without any consequences. It takes a lot. I have to fight the chemistry of my body that's addicted to him. I love him. Of course, this wasn't the time to say that, but I do. I still feel the electricity, the spell that casted us together. Chris has to feel it as well. I know the sight of a caged soul, he tries to fight it back. There's just something around us, a force that doesn't let us part. I thought for sure after I cheated that we were over. But he stayed in my life. I secretly thank him for that.

I fucked up too...not as bad as Chris did with this situation, but same difference.

Let him back in.

I pull over at a gas station, not about to go in because the car has gas and we have bags of snacks on the passenger's seat. I get out of the car, enjoying the warmth of Arkansas. Open fields surround the gas station, rustling lightly. What seems like billions of stars blaze the brightest I've ever seen from a night's sky.

I open the back door and tap Chris's shoulder. He shuffles around, then sits up, rubbing his eyes like a damn kid. I swear he is one. I take a seat next to him, turning on the rear ceiling light, and close the door, silencing crickets from outside.

We share a long gaze, his is unsure, sad, and completely apologetic. I give a tight smile, letting it reach my eyes to reassure him. He becomes less tense, letting his shoulders fall and neck rest. "I know this hurts, but you have to think before you act. We can return to our norm, but...just consider your family the next time you risk your life. Alright?"

Chris's eyes go watery. "I will." He says in a nearly heard whisper.

"Don't cry; come here." I open my arms for a hug that he slams into. My nose takes in his scent, his hair, my arms tighten around him. The blood in my body boils, feeling Chris so snug against it. His hands cup the back of my head, slowly. My mind plans out things to do to him right now. Dirty things. Three positions run through my mind: booster seat, butterfly, cannonball.

No, Not yet, hold off.

But my rough hands disagree and set on his cushiony love handles. My lips plaster onto his warm and wet cheek. "It's okay," I say, pushing him out of the embrace carefully and wiping his face with my thumbs.

Aww.

Chris's eyes weigh down with a willingness and a sacredness I knew I had to capture before it vanished.

Fuck.

I squeeze my hands down, down to his waist, to his legs, which I saddle across me. I feel my gaze feeding off his fiery one which connects our souls as one. My heart pounds, tempted to take over the moment.