With his focus not straying from the road, Kane spoke. “I give ye a head start of twenty seconds then catch up easily when you’re breathing hard. I’d pin ye to a tree, my hands in your clothes gripping on to your lush body, that pretty hair wound around my fist, then my dick sliding into your tight cunt. I don’t wait around. I take what I want and fuck ye until you’re screaming my name. People might see. Or hear. Someone could call the cops, which means admitting to them how ye like to play.”
A stunned silence filled the car.
I forced myself to start breathing again, though my heart pounded. “That’s what you enjoy?”
“With ye, it’s all I imagine. I know my brand of sex is not yours.”
“So last night, after… You didn’t…?”
“Jack off in the living room? No. No matter how turned on ye made me, I can handle the want.”
For a while, I got lost in the thoughts of what he’d described. How would that chase-attack deal even work? With a lot of trust and prior discussion, probably. My gaze got stuck on the sight of his hands. Big, capable hands that could so easily hold me down so I couldn’t move. That had done so in his bed.
One of his cuts from yesterday was bleeding again, the bandages I’d stuck on gone.
I reached for the glove compartment and the first-aid kit. “I’ll patch that up.”
He let me, his fingers warm.
I pondered more as I worked. “You said no girlfriend had ever stayed over, except you owned that flat for two years. Have you been single all that time?”
“I’ve always been single.”
My mouth fell open. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Never fallen in love? What about as a teenager?”
He shook his head in the negative.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty in a month. Let’s turn this interrogation around. How many times have ye fallen in love, flower girl?”
My shock morphed into a ready smile. “As a teenager, every other week. As an adult? Actually, none. Unless you count fictional characters in books, hot actors, or singers in rock bands. Then also every other week.”
Kane laughed. He cut it off before I could react. “So the guy you dumped, the arsehole outside the police station, what did he do wrong?”
“I don’t want to say. It’s embarrassing.”
I taped the fresh bandage onto his skin then released his hand.
He wrapped his fingers around my wrist. “Tell me anyway. I’ve got to have earned something for how much I’ve given up.”
“Fine. Lyle had soft hands. They gave me the ick.”
This earned a gloating smile he didn’t try to hide. “I’d say I felt bad for him, but fuck that guy. Ye wouldnae be helping me if there was someone waiting at home.”
“What do you mean? Of course I would.”
“No boyfriend would let you go off in a car with a man like me.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Let me? And what are you, exactly?”
“A threat.”
A buzz of energy chased his words. In that, he wasn’t wrong. I tried to settle my thoughts, letting the busy road calm my even busier mind.
