Dark eyelashes shadowed her eyes. “Because once we get to your place, I have other plans.”
That did it. “What other plans?” If she thought to take off again tonight, he’d damn well tie her down if he had to. He’d lock her in a room. He’d—
“Thanks to you, I’m tense.” She flexed her fingers, rolled her neck. “Earlier today I had to pound on two punks who tried to waylay me.”
Dear God. “How bad?”
She shrugged off his concern. “Other than a broken nose, busted knee, and maybe a rib fracture, they’re okay.”
His nostrils flared as he dug deep for flagging control. “You’re starting to make a habit of fighting in the street.”
“We were on the sidewalk, smart-ass, and my method of dealing with assholes is nothing new. But since I didn’t massacre them, I’ve still got all this pent-up energy. And then Mort let it slip about that stupid party—”
“Rave,” he corrected.
“Orgy,” she clarified with a black scowl. “I saw more kinky sex tonight than I did when I lived with a gaggle of hookers.”
Luther tried and failed to calm the rush of his temper. He knew what she’d seen, because he’d seen it, too. Damn it, he had wanted to protect her, not drive her further away. “And now you’re angry, and you want to punish me by taking off again?”
Unhooking her seat belt and, sliding over to him, she growled, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But . . . ” Tension vibrated off her. Her hot breath caressed his neck. Her eyes fairly glowed.
Frowning, Luther concentrated on not wrecking his car. “You said you had other plans.”
“Fuckin’ A.” She flattened a shaking hand to his abdomen. “I need you to have sex with me.”
Luther almost hit the curb. After righting the car, he dared another quick look, and saw her lick her lips. “You’re kidding.”
She put her nose to his temple, nuzzled against him, and breathed in with a rough moan. “I need it.” Her hand fisted his shirt just above the waistband of his jeans. “I need you.”
Luther’s brain scrambled. Of all the scenarios he’d envisioned, this wasn’t among them.
Steering wasn’t easy, not with Gaby moving against him, her own heated scent of arousal filling the interior of the car.
Damn. She wanted him. She could have him. No problem. “I can be home in a few minutes.” He pressed down on the accelerator. “Put your seat belt back on.”
She bit his earlobe. “I’m not sure I can wait that long. I need to burn off steam. Now.”
“Now?” Suddenly too hot, Luther fumbled for the switch on the heater. The passing landscape showed enough late-night bustle to keep him from pulling over to accommodate her. “I don’t think—”
She put an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, grazed his skin with her sharp little teeth. “It’s creeping up on me, Luther, taking over, suffocating me.” Her voice caught. “I need it. Now, Luther. Please.”
No way would he deny her. She was in a bad way; that was obvious. And . . .
And who the hell was he kidding?
It had nothing to do with his decision to pull off onto a dark, deserted side street. Gaby had him so turned on, it wasn’t safe for him to be behind the wheel anyway.
He slammed the car into park, turned the lights off, locked the doors, and reached down for the lever to adjust his seat back.
It’d been a hell of a long time since he’d made out in a car, but he wasn’t so old that he didn’t remember how.
Before he’d even settled back, Gaby was over him, straddling his lap, her hands holding his head and her mouth on his.
In a fevered state of lust, she kissed and bit at him, and made him nuts. He loved her wild like this.
He loved her in those rare moments when she was gentle, too.
Fighting it had done him no good, because, damn it, he just plain loved her.
Always.
Gabrielle Cody was the one and only for him. And giving in felt good.
“Stupid bucket seats,” Luther complained when she let him up for air.
Urgent with demand, she put her head back and moved against him, moaning, hurting with lust. Luther shoved up her shirt and found her heaving breasts, her nipples already taut and swollen.
“God Almighty, Gaby.” He lowered his mouth to her, drew one stiff peak in against his teeth, teased with his tongue.
Her hands clenched hard in his hair and she cried out. She was already so far gone that foreplay was the last thing she wanted. If he put her through it, it’d only be torment, and she had enough of that in her life.
“You have to get out of your jeans.” When she didn’t appear to register his instruction, Luther hooked a forearm under her backside and drew her up to her knees. Keeping her there, he fumbled with the snap and zipper on her jeans and managed to work them down enough that he could wedge his hand inside, touch her.
Sink two fingers into her.
They both stilled, and Gaby sank back down to his lap on a shuddering moan.
When he moved his fingers in her, she raped his mouth, all the while rocking against him, on his fingers, clenching and groaning in escalating heat.
It was awkward, but Luther managed. For Gaby, he’d do anything.
A porch light across the street came on, and out of the corner of his eye Luther watched, on alert. Gaby stayed oblivious, and that, too, was nice. Her keen awareness of everything and everyone normally precluded any personal relaxation against her plight with evil.
The door opened and a cat went inside. The light turned off again.
For once, with him, Gaby let her enjoyment override her vigilance. To Luther, that felt like complete trust. Combined with her sexual enjoyment, it was enough to build on.
“I need more,” she groaned in frustration. “More.”
Luther levered away from her. “Get your jeans off.” He removed his hand and held her back. “Gaby, listen to me. Shh. Listen.”
Eyes heavy and dark, she stared at his mouth.
“Jeans,” Luther said. “Off.”
“Okay.” She fell over the console into her own seat, and without her usual grace, wrangled the denim down her long legs. It was a sight to see, Gaby perpendicular to him, scrunched on her back in the narrow passenger seat, her legs up in the air . . .
She shoved everything onto the floor and came over him again. “Now you. Hurry up.”
While he worked himself free, Gaby kissed him, his mouth, the bridge of his nose, his chin, and his jaw. She licked along his throat and purred. “You always taste so good, Luther.”
Before too much longer, he’d get her to taste him everywhere. His heart hammered at the thought.
But not here. Not in his damned car. And not in a suburb.
Her impatience made it difficult to get the condom rolled on, and as soon as Luther had it in place, she came over him again. Locking eyes with him, her hands clasped on his neck, she sank down onto him—and gave a vibrating groan of pleasure. “Oh God.”
Rigid from his hairline to his toes, Luther knew he wouldn’t last long. But then, he wouldn’t need to. Gaby had learned enough to set her own pace, and she wasted no time in riding him hard, rocking the car, fogging up the windows, panting and moaning and clenching so tight around him.
He measured the nearness of her release by the bite of her nails on his shoulders. He loved the sting she inflicted. He loved the out-of-control sounds she made.
He loved her fervor. He loved her.
Acknowledging it felt better and better. So damn right.
“Gaby.” Locking his teeth, Luther put his head back and strained for control, for just a minute more until she . . .
Moaning loudly, hugging the air out of him, she came long and hard before going all soft, falling against him until he held her in his arms.
Luther opened his mouth on her throat, immersing himself in her scent, her taste, the incredible feel of her, and it was enough. Clasping her hips, he drove her down on him even as he thrust up, burying himself in her as deep as he could, wanting to be a part of her, to share her burdens—to steal her heart.