Saturday I felt as restless as a tiger in a cage. My shift at the country club didn’t start until four. My roommate Tom and I were going to head to the gym around one. But there I was, ten in the morning, wide awake and hard as a fucking rock for one reason and one reason only.

I shouldn’t have given her a ride home. It was enough to stop her from heading into a car with that little shit. My fist balled at the memory of him grabbing her arm. Fucker had a world of hurt heading for him if he so much as mussed a hair on her head ever again.

I should have let Gigi call a car, maybe stayed until it got there to pick her up. Some nights it seemed like half my job at that club was getting drunk people behind the wheel of a sober driver. What I didn’t do was give people a ride home myself.

But Gigi. Fuck. I’d seen her there in that slip of a dress and pictured her wrapped around me, the feel of her pussy pressed hot and tight, her bare legs spread around my thighs. I couldn’t turn that down.

Riding with her behind me? Goddamn. I adjusted myself in my briefs. I’d had a lot of girls behind me on a bike. I’d grown up with my dad in a fucking MC. It wasn’t exactly a new experience. But hell if Gigi didn’t make it feel that way. The way she gripped me, her pretty pink fingernails pressing into my chest. The pale, smooth skin of her slender legs. She had the legs of a dancer, graceful and toned and I bet she’d be flexible and spread real wide for me.

With a low groan, I slipped my hand down my waistband and palmed my cock. I’d been lying awake for the better part of an hour, horny as hell and unable to stop thinking about Gigi, but I hadn’t jerked off. It was like I knew it wouldn’t make any difference. No matter how many times I stroked myself, pictured sliding that slip of a dress off her gorgeous body and burying myself in her, it would never be enough. I’d never be satisfied with just the fantasy.

But I couldn’t help giving in, closing my palm around my shaft, slowly pulling, stroking in rhythm as I closed my eyes and sank into it. Gigi. Her hair was soft and blond with a hint of red. I’d never seen a color like it before. And last night I’d let myself dig my fingers into it, caress it like priceless silk.

I shouldn’t have kissed her. I almost made it through without doing it. I didn’t kiss her when I helped her off my bike and caught the briefest flash of her panties, pink like I knew her pussy would be as I licked it. I didn’t kiss her as she looked up at me all flushed and aroused and gushed about how much she loved riding on my bike, pressing up against me, clinging to me like she wanted to all night.

I was a borderline dick to her when I learned she was home alone. But the thought that I had her all to myself made me nearly blind with lust. Knowing I could step through that door and fuck her against every wall, any piece of furniture I could reach, watch her suck my cock in the shower and eat her out again and again right on the kitchen countertop? That made my blood boil so hot I practically had steam pouring out of my ears.

Then she’d stood there at the base of the stairs, her eyes wide and trusting, her berry lips slightly parted. I’d tried not to kiss her. I knew I shouldn’t.

It wasn’t so much that we were from different worlds. I’d fucked rich girls before. Not a problem.

But here was the problem. I barely knew her yet, but I could already tell she was good. Gigi was a nice person. She was the type who remembered birthdays and smiled and said thank you. Sweet, sheltered, innocent, this girl turned in her homework on time. She followed the rules.

She didn’t deserve to be anywhere near a man like me, a dark, relentless beast, insatiable and demanding. She needed to stay in her little princess tower, date some country-club boy who’d take her out to dinner and make polite conversation over the meal. Not a brute who’d pull her close, close enough to finger fuck under the tablecloth, reminding her with a whisper in her ear to keep quiet when she came. She deserved some stand-up finance guy type who’d marry her and make sweet, missionary position love to her on special occasions. Not a tattooed hulk with a fucked-up past who’d take her over his knee and spank her until she got so wet she begged and came right as his palm smacked hard over her slick pussy.

That was what did it, picturing Gigi bent over my knee, her sweet, round ass up in the air, her fingers digging into the bed as she cried out, writhing with need. She was submissive. I could scent it, like an animal with its prey. She probably didn’t even know it yet. She might have no idea what she’d really like, how she’d crave serving her master. The darkness I’d bring out in her.

I came hard, my hot seed spilling out on my stomach. Regret followed just as fast. I might have traveled 3,000 miles to get away from the kind of shit I’d been surrounded by all my life, people treating each other like animals, but it didn’t matter. I had that darkness deep within me. Here I’d met some sweet, gorgeous young thing and all I wanted to do was defile her, fuck her hard and raw and teach her how much she liked it. Deep down, I was no better than the drunk fuck who’d tried to pull her into his car last night. I might be worse.

I showered off and decided to head to the auto shop. I’d bought myself a sweet truck, a Chevy Silverado. Only problem was it wouldn’t run. I’d hauled it off the property of the man who’d sold it to me cheap, confident in my ability to fix it up. It would just take some time. Thankfully, one of the guys who worked at a local auto shop also teamed with me on security and we’d worked out a deal. I gave the guys a few hours of my time each week, usually working on bikes, and they let me keep my truck out back and use their space to nurse it back to health. A win-win.

Under that truck, greasy and determined, I told myself I wasn’t hoping for a miracle. It wasn’t as if one twist of a wrench would suddenly spring the whole truck back into action, magically making it available for me to use by tomorrow morning. For the date I’d made with Gigi to teach her how to drive. Because apparently now I wasn’t just operating a shuttle service, I was running driver’s ed as well.

There was no way my truck would be ready. I’d borrow my buddy’s car. It wouldn’t even make sense to teach her in my monster of a truck. That wasn’t how she should learn to drive. But logic didn’t seem to be factoring too much into my decisions these days. I wanted Gigi up in my truck, right next to me, her skirt riding up her creamy thighs, my hand over on her soft skin, making its way up as she shifted and sighed in her seat.

Why the fuck did I say I’d teach her how to drive? This whole thing was a disaster waiting to happen. My phone rang. I slid out from underneath the truck and answered.

“Dominic? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Ma.” I didn’t ask her “who else would it be?” but the question did seem to ask itself.

“I’ve barely seen you in weeks! How are you?” She sounded breathy and all worked up. I’d say she was on something, but as far as I knew she’d kicked everything but booze for years now.

“Fine, yeah. You?”

My mother launched into a rave over how amazing her life was these days. I stood there, hand in my pocket, not really listening. But I was happy for her. I knew more than anyone, she’d had it rough most of her life. She’d had me at 17 and for the first ten years of my life she’d bounced between her two main loves: my dad and her drugs. Sometimes she’d manage to do them both and those were the best times for me, with my mom and my dad and it seemed like the whole MC to look out for me. But then she’d leave, sometimes taking me with her before she ditched me with a relative or a friend for how long I never knew.

I was over it now, but I’d had my angry years. From around 13 to 15, I’d idolized my dad and demonized my mom. Then I’d learned more about what my dad did and the kind of man he really was and I’d gained empathy. My mom had been trying to do her version of the right thing, taking me away from that life when she could manage it.

Well, now she had me, living 15 minutes down the road from her, no motorcycle club competing for my attention. But we still hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

“Fingers crossed!” I heard her saying, but I couldn’t say about what. I guessed she must mean the guy she was seeing. I didn’t want to get into that conversation. She’d had more highs and lows over men than I could possibly count.

“Anyway, your car’s ready.” I’d worked her out a deal at the shop and the work had been done days ago, but she still hadn’t picked it up. She must be hitching rides with her sugar daddy.

“Oh, you’re fabulous.” She went on, affecting some new way of talking, like she was a rich lady. Maybe that was for the new guy, too.

“I’ll drive it over for you.”

“Thanks! Got to go.”

The clock on my phone said it was time for me to get going, too. I’d drop off my mom’s car. My buddy could pick me up there to head to the gym. Then I’d change and head to the country club. There was a party there tonight and I might see Gigi.

Most of the party passed without Gigi seeing me. But I saw her straight off. I stayed in the shadows, observing, doing my job. I could tell she was searching around, ignoring the swarms of country-club boys all around her as she sought me out. Seeing her look so eager, then disappointed, did all sorts of fucked up things to me, making my chest puff and both my heads swell right up. She made me feel like the Man. That was a dangerous drug, maybe the most potent, addictive and lethal of them all.

She was wearing something silver and shimmering, looking like she’d dropped down right out of the heavens and might flit back up at any moment. Unless I found the chance to drag her down into a dark cave with me. Even though I wouldn’t. Not tonight, not any night.

But I could stop some other prick from dragging her off instead of me. That shithead from Friday night was there at the party, too, watching Gigi nearly as intently as me. And that was saying something.

I’d been around a whole lot of crazy in my life, especially the violent type, so I knew it when I saw it even when it was dressed up in a suit. That Brock kid was off his fucking rocker. He was also rich and, therefore, surrounded by all sorts of protections and padding, but that gleam in his eye? He was a time bomb waiting to explode. I just had to make sure he didn’t do it anywhere near Gigi.

Standing out on the balcony, I stayed in the corner, along the wall where I could take everything in. Some drunk woman made her way over and started draping herself on me, telling me she was thirsty but nothing at the party was satisfying her. She was all done up and had the best body money could buy, but it was the last thing I wanted. Of course that was when Gigi walked out and finally saw me.

She turned away, looking embarrassed and hurt. She wore it all on her face like an open book. She’d been looking for me all night and now I could tell that she felt embarrassed, as if she realized she was just one woman among many chasing me down. And she was hurt because it looked like I took any woman who came my way.

Quiet but firm, I put some distance and then some more between me and the woman offering herself. Then I made my way over to the opposite corner on the balcony, silently willing Gigi to come to me again. I could see her struggle, looking out over the lawn, biting her lip, but then she did. It was all I could do not to reach out and wrap my hand around her waist, lean down and taste those lips again. She looked so nervous, so unsure. I’d done that to her, damn it. I didn’t even know how, but I always ended up hurting people.

“Hey.” I spoke first, searching her out with my eyes even though I couldn’t touch her the way I wanted. For many reasons.

“Hi,” she answered, shy. “I swear I’m not stalking you. I was just trying to get some air and get away from—” She stopped herself, but I knew who she was talking about.

“Be careful around that guy.” I leaned toward her, wanting to cross all sorts of boundaries. “He’s trouble.”

She shrugged, then looked up and met my gaze with her wide blue eyes. I’d never been a guy big on romance, ready to start reciting poetry, but right then I wished I had more than a G.E.D. Maybe if I’d stuck with school and paid attention I could have learned some poetry, some sonnet I could recite and let her know she was a goddamned epic beauty.

“Brock’s harmless,” she insisted, bringing me back to reality. “I’ve known him forever. He’s an asshole. And he’s got a thing for virgins. But it’s not like he’s going to do anything about it.”

My mouth went dry. Did she just say she was a virgin? I must have been showing some of my reaction because she blushed and murmured, “I don’t know why I just said that.”

“You’re a virgin?” I felt all dumb and wooden, like I couldn’t process what she was saying.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on advertising that, but…” She shrugged again and looked up at me, slightly sheepish. Blood surged through me, my fists balled at my sides so I didn’t wrap my hands around her and pull her to me, claiming her as mine, all mine. But the caveman within me roared to make it so. No one had had her. I had to have her.

“Don’t worry about Brock, though.” She broke our gaze, looking out again into the night.

“How does he know?” I hissed, really wanting to hurt him now more than ever. Had he been with her? Touched her, kissed her, nearly taken her but she’d stopped him late one night? The thought made me see white with rage.

“Because everyone knows everything about everyone here,” she answered, seemingly unaware of the temper surging within me. “It’s like one big incestuous family. Everyone’s just one degree removed.” She looked up at me with a shy smile. “That’s why it’s so nice to talk to you.”

“Nice?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not nice.”

She looked down, a flash of hurt across her gorgeous features. But then she looked up again, tentative, hopeful. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

I nodded. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” The smile she gave me would have melted a frozen tundra. I was not going to make it another minute without doing something I would deeply regret. But maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe it would be worth it just to feel her in my arms again.

“Have a good night.” I nodded at her, dismissive. I brushed past her as I walked away, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to leave while I still could.

Eight a.m. on Sunday Gigi flounced out of her house in a light pink dress and ballet flats. What did she think I was taking her to, a garden party? I wanted to roll my eyes, but that wasn’t the reaction my body was having. The way the fabric clung to her curves, the way it rode up her thighs, had me swallowing and looking away and wishing like hell I’d told her she should wear sweatpants. But knowing Gigi, she’d find some way to make them sexy as hell, maybe riding down low on her hips exposing a patch of skin I could bite.

“Good morning!” She looked as chirpy and sunny as a Sunday school teacher.

“Hey.” I just had to get this over with and then I’d put some much-needed distance between us. I drove over to a local school, the parking lot empty as expected. We switched places—no touching involved—and she got in the driver’s seat where I introduced her to the gears and pedals. She nodded and didn’t have too many questions since I guessed she’d been in plenty of cars.

“OK, give her some gas.” I buckled myself, just in case.

“I’m nervous.” She smiled over at me looking cute as hell. “What if I mess up?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my buddy’s car anyway.”

“So I can put a few dents in it?”

“Sure, he works in a body shop.” I kept talking to keep her relaxed, telling her about the shop, how I worked there sometimes, too. She eased into it, jolting us good a few times, but managing to drive in a few large, looping ovals around the park.

“Here’s where you need to do a little less.” I reached over and wrapped my hands around hers on the wheel to show her how little she really needed to do to make a turn. No lurching movements, nothing sharp or jarring, just easy and slow. Like the way my bicep was rubbing lightly against her breasts. Easy and slow, just like that.

I brought my hands back, folding them in my lap like I’d been naughty. Or at least wanted to be. I snuck a glance over and fuck if her nipples weren’t hard, pressing against that pretty pink dress, making me think all kinds of dark thoughts. How satisfying it would be to tear that party dress right off of her, rip it down the middle so I could get at those breasts like a ravenous beast.

“Should I try to park?” she asked. Right, she still thought she was getting a driving lesson.

“Go for it.” I pointed to a spot among 30 empty ones waiting for her in a row. She pulled in and parked, no problem.

“I’m a pro!” She looked at me, smiling and effulgent. I couldn’t help but smile back. It was contagious. “You’re smiling.” She elbowed me, teasing.

“Yeah, you made me do it,” I grumbled. I knew what she was getting at. I didn’t exactly walk around greeting the world like a game show host.

“OK, I’m ready!” She started pulling out.

“For what?”

“Want to go get a coffee? I’ll drive us downtown.”

“Guess so.” Early Sunday morning, there shouldn’t be too many others on the road. I’d just have to pray she didn’t hit a mailbox and draw the cops. That was all I needed, some overzealous rookie looking me up in his database and causing me headaches. My record was clean, had been for years now, but if you dug back enough you could find some good stuff from my juvenile years.

After a few near-misses and only a couple of times I had to reach over and put my hand on the wheel—#copafeel—we made it to a coffee shop in one piece.

“I did it!” She raised her hands in victory, then turned and threw her arms around my neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like I was the type of guy who gave “good for you” friend hugs. Her soft breasts against my chest, her face against mine, my body tensed. I didn’t move a muscle. She drew back, flushed and slightly embarrassed.

“I mean, thanks for the driving lesson,” she murmured.

“Come on. I’ll get you a coffee and drive you home.” I climbed out, wondering what the hell was up with me. I was sure she was, too. I knew I was running hot and cold with her, but that had to stop. Cold had to win out because this wasn’t going anywhere.

I bought her a latte, realizing how stupid it was that I liked paying and presenting her with it. Caveman buy you coffee. She found us two seats in the backyard patio, surrounded by ivy climbing stone walls and not many other people. I hadn’t planned on a get-to-know-you sit down. But, I sat down. It would be the first and the last time we hung out, so I figured what was the harm?

I couldn’t even tell you where the next two hours went. I’d lost a couple of hours with a woman before, but never with all of our clothes on. Gigi started in talking, and it was like I didn’t know what hit me. Her light laugh, the way she had of leaning in when she talked, as if she were telling me something no one else knew. She was effervescent, like sitting across from my own personal champagne bubble.

“I’m not even sure if Heath has running water!” she confessed, eyes wide and amused, telling me about how one of her older brothers had taken off to Vermont and built his own cabin. Apparently she had three older brothers. None of whom had taught her how to drive.

“You’d think he could haul his mountain-man ass down here and teach his sister to drive one weekend.”

“Oh no.” She shook her head, not a trace of bitterness in her reply. “He’d have to head back onto the grid if he did that. And see our father.”

It turned out everyone hated their father—except her and her oldest brother. I guessed that was because her oldest brother was a lot like their father, and Gigi probably didn’t hate anyone. But from what I’d seen of powerful men, none of them got that way by being a good guy. Maybe her father was the exception to the rule, the one who amassed all his riches on the up and up. But I doubted it.

“I’ll have to introduce you one of these days,” she said, looking so happy I didn’t even point out how ridiculous the statement was. No need to argue over something that would never happen. “I don’t know where Dad’s been lately,” she mused. “He’s been here in the Hamptons, but never by the house or the club. Anyway.” She shook herself from her thoughts. “I want to know more about how you learned to drive a car at 13.”

She looked so intrigued, so delicious with a tantalizing tease of cleavage at the neckline of that demure dress, I found myself talking. Plus, maybe if she learned more about me she’d do the walking away all by herself. That would make staying away from her a whole lot easier.

“I could pick any lock by the time I was 10,” I began. “By 12, I could hotwire a car. By 13, I could drive the getaway car.” I left out how I lost my virginity right around then, too, the virginity she still had though I promised myself I wouldn’t think about that and get hard right at the coffee shop. And I left out other details, too, like what, exactly, I drove the getaway car from. Gigi got the flyby version. She’d seen Sons of Anarchy. It was enough.

“You are the most interesting person I’ve ever met!” she gushed, looking at me like I was amazing.

“You need to meet more people, princess.” I knew a hundred guys with the exact same crazy stories as me. I didn’t want her meeting them, though.

“But you left all that behind?” She looked at me dreamy, like I was the white knight in this story.

“There’s nothing noble in what I’ve done,” I cautioned her.

“But you don’t want that life any more.”

“I never did,” I admitted, wondering if she might be the first person I’d had an open conversation with about it.

“Why not?”

I leaned back in my chair, wondering about this pretty little debutante sitting across the table from me. Why did I feel like I could talk to her? But I did. “I want to help people, not hurt them.” That was the first time I’d said that out loud. It felt strange to admit it, but she kept looking at me, fascinated, her eyes warm and inviting. “I know I’ve got the build and the skills to bring some serious pain. But it seems to me there’s enough of that already. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“That’s so wonderful.” She looked at me across the table like I was her hero. She needed to stop looking at me like that. It might go to my head.

“How about you?” I changed the subject. “What do you want to do?”

“Ooh! Now that’s a big question.” She folded her fingers, every gesture so graceful. She looked down at her coffee as if marshaling courage, then announced, “Well, I know I’ve had all the advantages in the world with my education and I should probably say I want to do something scholarly or high-profile. But what makes me most happy is making a place feel homey.”

“What?” I didn’t mean to make her more self-conscious. I could already tell she felt nervous. She was speaking in a rush, diving into her words as if almost too shy to speak them. But I didn’t know what she meant.

“So, I work at this store.” She explained about the place she worked, how it sold little knickknacks. It wasn’t the kind of shop I’d ever set foot in, but I did like how she lit up as she talked about it. “The thing is, I’ve lived in these impeccably decorated houses, but none of them have felt like homes. I want to help people create a home, a place where they can feel safe and happy and at peace.”

That sounded pretty damn good. I didn’t know what to say. I’d definitely never felt that way.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring it all out.” She blushed and looked down.

I took her hand across the table. I didn’t like to see her shrinking into herself. For a girl with all the wealth and education and beauty in the world, she didn’t seem to have the self-confidence to go with it.

“I don’t know much about decorating. Or homes. You’ve picked two things I know nothing about. But I’m sure you’ll be great at it.” I caressed her hand with my thumb.

“You think so?” She lit right up under my praise.

I nodded. Conversation and time passed, each minute pulling me in more with the toss of her hair or the cross of her legs revealing skin that looked so impossibly soft and smooth. She smelled like roses, and I felt like I was getting drunk off her nearness. When I glanced at the time I saw it was already noon. I’d told the guys I’d stop by the shop around eleven thirty.

“I’ve got to go.” We stood and walked toward the car.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been talking nonstop and there’s still so much I don’t know about you! I don’t even know your last name!”

“Dominic Knox. Good to meet you.” I turned and shook her hand, giving her a smile.

“I like your name.” She sounded breathy as she smiled back. “And where did you grow up, Dominic Knox?”

“Central California, no place you’ve heard of.”

“Is your family still out there?”

“No, my mom’s here.”

“Oh, that’s nice, you came out here to live near her?”

Nice. Yeah, that was me. “You just called me nice again. That’s twice in one weekend.”

We climbed into the car, this time me in the driver’s seat. I liked getting back into the smaller space with her, her smell, her skin inches away. I put the key in the ignition, willing my boy to lie down. I’d been fighting getting hard most of the time we’d talked, like a fucking teenager on a first date.

“Did you go to college back in California?”

That made me laugh. “Sweetheart, I didn’t to go college. I don’t even have a high school diploma. So if you have some secret fantasy of dressing me up and bringing me home to meet dad, it’s not going to happen.”

“I’m not…I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, looking like I’d just popped her balloon. Fuck, that had come out too harsh, hadn’t it?

“Listen, don’t—”

“No, it’s OK. I get it. You keep trying to tell me you’re not interested. I don’t know what my problem is. I get it, you’re not into me.”

I groaned, leaning back in the seat. If only that were true. “I’m just trying to stop you from dreaming up some fantasy that’s never going to happen.”

“Right, thanks. I get it.” She straightened up, pissed and hurt and not looking at me.

“Gigi.” I turned to her.

“No, you’ve made it perfectly clear. You don’t want anything to do with me.”

I grabbed her rough and brought her to sit on my lap. She gasped and twisted, surprised, but I held her there, pinning her ass down right on top of my erection as I bent my head down to her neck and licked, then sucked her tender flesh.

“You feel that?” I whispered in her ear, licking her sensitive lobe, pushing my cock against her.

“Mmmm.” She tipped her head back, eyes half-closed, the perfect vision of surrendering to desire. For an innocent, she sure knew exactly how to grind herself against me, pressing along my shaft with a moan.

“You think I want nothing to do with you?” My hand traced a trail from her shoulder, down her chest to her breast. Through her dress I could see her arousal, her nipple pushing through. Light, teasing, I traced the swell of her breast, under then over, then around her hardened nipple. Her breathing picked up, growing quicker, more urgent.

“What do you want, Gigi?” I asked, fascinated by the intensity of her reaction. She bit her lip and arched her back toward me, begging me with all but her voice to touch her. I licked her ear, then whispered hot and low, “Do you know what you want? Do you want me to teach you?”

Then I brought my thumb and forefinger to her aching nipple and squeezed. Not hard, not rough like I really wanted to do, but a taste of what could come.

“Oh!” she gasped, her eyes and mouth flying open. “Dom!”

“You like that.” I growled with satisfaction, nuzzling into her neck, petting her nipple, her breast. I knew she’d like it and everything else I could bring as I dominated her, giving her that edge of pain along with the flood of pleasure.

A couple walked past the car, not looking in but not far enough away. It was Sunday morning in a parking lot. It was not the time or place to teach a virgin the pleasure of pain.

Without a word, I picked her up and put her back in her seat. She looked dazed and frustrated, her lips swollen from my kisses, her hair slightly disheveled. Just the tip of the fucking iceberg, I wanted to say, but instead I buckled her in tight and then about peeled out of the parking lot to bring her home.

The ride didn’t take long but damn if Gigi didn’t make me feel like I wanted to keep right on driving, maybe talk her into putting her feet up on the dash for me so I could get a good look at those legs all stretched out. I was sure I could find a secluded spot to pull over where I could taste her again, take my time and get her on my lap. Make her sigh and pant and slip a finger down her pretty panties to feel how wet I got her.

She punched in the code at her house and the gate swung open so I could drop her at her front steps. I stopped the truck but I kept the engine idling. Hand gripping the wheel, my arm out like a barrier between us, I didn’t look at her. I stared straight ahead, my jaw locked.

“Thank you for the driving lesson,” she said softly. “I appreciate that you took the time.”

She shouldn’t be so appreciative. I’d come close to giving her a lesson in a lot more than driving. “You should know how to drive,” I managed.

She hesitated, and I could sense her almost touch me. Almost put her hand on my bicep. She didn’t. She turned and got out of the car.

I drove off, letting out the breath I’d been holding. I could smell her the whole way back, her light floral scent, and more. I was probably making it up, but I swore I could smell a hint of her musky arousal. She’d gotten wet from my kisses, from grinding against me, from when I pinched and twisted her nipple.

That had to be the last time I had her in a car. There was only so much the big bad wolf could take before he sank his teeth right into little red riding hood.