I hastily undo my belt and do my best to shimmy the denim of my jeans down to a manageable level. My cock springs free a few moments later, and I drag her hips down to meet my upward thrust. Her warm pussy grips me tight as I drive myself in to the hilt. She bucks in surprise and then releases a groan, getting an even tighter grip on the headrest when my hands settle on her hips, lifting her just enough to slam her back down again.
I don't take my eyes off of her for a fucking second, even though hers have fluttered closed, taking in the pleasant assault of sensation that I'm giving her. She rocks back with every thrust, rolling her hips against mine, taking in every bit of me she can get. Her back almost leans against the horn, but I can't drudge up any concern. This is my car, and anyone foolish enough to jack it will get what's coming to them, either when I shoot them, or when Penelope beats them to death for daring to look at her nude.
But even that's unlikely, given the deluge. Visibility is almost nil, and I don't know many that will brave this storm to find me. EvenIshouldn't be out in this, but the deal I've cut with Cruz demands it. We'll be late getting there because I'm not cutting the time we have left short.
Her lips seek mine hungrily, hands finally falling to my shoulders. A little mewl escapes her every time our bodies meet, and it's music to my ears. Blood slams through my veins, and it's the most alive I've felt in years. Words form and stand poised at the tip of my tongue, but I don't say them, even as the pleasure mounts still higher.
I won't ruin the moment by saying I love you. It's not time, and I'm not sure it's true. Not yet, at least. But I can't deny that I like her. The fact that I could love her given time is a fucking miracle. I didn't expect to feel this way for anyone ever again. Trinity would have hated the monster I've become in her absence. She'd want me to have Penelope, to save my shriveled, corrupt soul.
As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.
I almost smile. More Faust? I'm becoming philosophical in my old age. But there is more than one way the tale of Faust plays out. Which was I, Goethe, or Marlowe's Faust? Doomed to reap the consequences of my actions in hell, with no hope of redemption? Or could I be spirited away by an angel in the eleventh hour?
"Penelope," I pant, driving harder into her. Her walls flutter around me. "Look at me."
Her eyes fly open wide, and she stares down at me in wonder. I slide one hand up to her cheek, and the tattoo that stands out starkly on the back of it looks just right juxtaposed against her skin.
When she climaxes, it transforms her whole face. Her dark eyes flame, those lush lips part, and pure joy spasms across her face. I snap a mental picture and squirrel it away. Something to take with me when she's gone, and the inevitable must happen.
I'm not leaving this world more dangerous for her. When the Cruz brothers take her back, I'm tearing this whole mother fucking thing down and then taking myself some place where I can't hurt her.
"I love you," she whispers.
The words hit like a punch to the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me, even as my release comes. Fuck. She's already in too deep. I shouldn't have let her get this involved with a bastard like me.
She sags boneless against me, and I cradle her to my chest, trapping the reciprocal reply behind my teeth. She nuzzles into the hollow of my throat and her soft breath fans across my skin. We're still connected in the most intimate way possible, and she doesn't seem to want to move as her breaths become shallow and even. I've exhausted her.
Well, it's not like we're going anywhere in a hurry with the tree blocking the road. The long way around takes us into Hellion territory, and I'm not dragging Penelope anywhere near them. Cruz will just have to wait. I lean the seat back and close my eyes, letting Penelope rest on top of me.
I'll let myself be a selfish bastard just a little while longer.
15
Penny
The interior of the car is muggy when I wake up. A quick glance out the window shows the rain has let up. The sky still swirls with dark storm clouds, but they're moving away from us. This is just the usual fare that I've come to expect from South Hollens.
Lifting on my elbows, I discover that I'm cradled against Calamity's chest. Holy shit. He fucked me into exhaustion. That has never happened in my brief and disappointing dating life. He's still inside me, semi-hard, as if even in sleep he's ready to fuck me. My eyes drift from his chest, where my face left a soft imprint in his shirt.
His broad, handsome face looks less angular and cruel when he's sleeping. I miss the glint of those pale eyes, the way they scour me hungrily. But I have to admit that I like seeing him this way. It's the first time I've seen him asleep. It's easier to imagine him as Vincent this way, when he's not exuding brutish strength and arrogance.
I trace a finger carefully along his jaw, surprised when he doesn't immediately wake. He must be a heavy sleeper.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I jump. I forgot it was in there. I'm intensely shocked that it still has battery life after over a month of being out of my possession. Someone must have been charging it, and I'm not sure I want to know who.
I dig it out of my back pocket and see I have thirty-two missed calls and seventeen messages. Shifting off of Calamity's lap carefully, so as not to wake him, I settle back into the passenger's side and unlock the phone. Most of the calls are from Kase's burner phone or Cruz's number. There are a few from Cleo and Holly sprinkled in, the alarm apparent even in the texts. My chest twinges with guilt. My friends must be beside themselves and I've barely spared a thought for them, too absorbed in trying to best Calamity in a battle of wills.
And if my friends are worried, it's nothing to how my brothers must feel. I feel like a coward when I delete the messages without listening to them. Calamity's comments come back to me unbidden. He's right. My overprotective big brothers won't accept that I bartered away my body and my freedom for a couple of prostitutes. They won't accept that everything I've done has been welcomed and reciprocated. They'll think I've been raped. They won't let Calamity leave the meeting place alive.
My jaw flexes and I catch sight of myself in the rearview mirror. My eyes are steely. Determined.
I'm not letting it end this way. I have to let Kase and Cruz know what happened to Calamity. And to do that, I have to convince a witness to fess up. Uncle Rocco and dad are dead. Trent is in jail and probably wouldn't confess, even if I could get ahold of him. Which leaves only one man who can tell the whole truth.
I open up my contacts and pull up Harman's number. After a second of thought, I reach over the seat and snatch my club jacket from the bag that Calamity packed for me. I tie it around my waist the wrong way, obscuring the damage he's done to my jeans. What a brute. I can't help but smile, though. I've never had someone who wanted me so much they couldn't even wait for me to shimmy out of my jeans.
I open the Camaro's passenger door and slip out quietly. The rain patters lightly on the ground around me and I bring the phone up to my ear, nerves stretching thin as the dial tone continues.
Doc Harman answers on the second ring and he sounds out of breath when he demands; "Penny, is that you?"
