Driven

I bet he fucks like he drives— a little reckless, pushing all the limits, and in it until the very last lap.

Let’s face it, you’re not a spend the night kind of guy, and I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl.

I know all about baggage, sweetheart. I have enough of it to fill up a 747 and then some.

You’ll never know your limits until you push yourself to them.

I will not be inconsequential, Colton. To you or to anyone else.

Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you’re going to learn that sometimes, not being in control is extremely liberating.

Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.

You know that deep down, a tiny part of that proper, respectable woman you are, wants to visit that reckless, sexy, uninhibited place inside you that’s begging to get out. A place I can undoubtedly help you find.

I’ll purposely do something to hurt you to prove that I can. To prove that you won’t stick around regardless of the consequences. To prove that I can control the situation. To control that I don’t get hurt.

The man is captivating in every way and the epitome of sexy. From that boyish grin that disarms me in seconds to his sexy swagger that says he knows exactly where he’s going and what his intentions are. He exudes virility, evokes desire, and commands attention all with a single look from his stunning eyes. He’s edgy and reckless and you want to go along for the ride hoping to get a glimpse of his tender side that breaks through every now and again. The bad boy with a touch of vulnerability who leaves you breathless and steals your heart.

You wanna play hardball, sweetheart? Welcome to the big leagues.

I know it won’t be enough. I don’t think any amount of time will be enough to love someone like Colton. He is one of those guys who consumes every part of you.

Once I fuck you, Rylee—it’s official, you’re mine and only mine.

And in this moment, I am completely and utterly his. Swallowed by him. Lost to him and the moment so much so that I am frightened by the power of my feelings.

You’re developing a pattern of wanting me right after I know you’ve been with another. That’s a habit you’re going to need to break or nothing else is going to happen here,

And then I realized, as I do right now, that in the end I’m going to break you apart.

Sometimes our journeys in life seem to take forever to get to the culmination of our efforts—to achieving the goal. And once we get there, it goes so fast and then its over.

I bet he fucks like he drives—a little reckless, pushing all the limits, and in it until the very last lap.

Keep fightin’ me, sweetheart. The feistier you are, the harder you make me.

He is my fire on a cold night, the sun warming my skin on a cool spring morning, the wind caressing my face on an autumn day—he is everything that makes me feel alive, and whole, and beautiful.

Just because it's not what you're expecting doesn't mean it's not everything you might need.

I smile sadly. My heart wanting so much that my head knows is never going to happen.

An angel fighting through the darkness or a devil breaking into the light?

... wishing that I were one of those people who say all the right things at all the right times. But I'm not. Instead, I think of them hours later and only wish that I'd said them.

I will revel in that moment with him which will be filled with reverent sighs and entangled bodies, and I’ll be devastated when he walks away after having his fill of me.

And I know that apology is for so many things. For what can never be. For what should be. For hurting me. For not being the person I need him to be. For not being able to confront whatever is in his past.

I can’t figure out what I want to do more, punch him or fuck him.

I want to take my time with you, Rylee. I want to build you up nice and slow and sweet like you need. Push you to crash over that edge. And then I want to fuck you the way I need to. Fast and hard until you’re screaming my name. The way I’ve wanted to since you fell out of that storage closet and into my life.

It’s been too long since I’ve savored you. You. Are. Intoxicating.

On the track, I can escape the paparazzi, the groupies … my demons. The only fear I have is that which I’ve created for myself, that I can control with a swerve of the wheel or a press of the pedal …