It dawns on me that I could’ve selected someone else, but I didn’t. And not because I was lazy. Guess I did choose her.
“I left with you, not with Malachi.” Her tone is no longer playful. “What more do you need from me, Cillian?”
Access to the mine…“I need you to tell me I’ve got a real chance with you, Electra.”
She tosses her hands in the air. “You’ve got a real fucking chance! There. I said it. Happy?”
My surprise makes me hit the brake pedal a little hard. Makes me stare at her a little harder.
Silence pools between us until it’s so thick it smothers the music.
“So I get a complete do-over?” I ask, still stunned.
Her cheeks hollow. “A partial one since hymens don’t regenerate.”
“Thank God for that. Making you bleed and weep aren’t my objectives.”
“I didn’t weep.”
A placating smile hits my lips. “Like you didn’t keep me in the dark for four days?”
“Exactly,” she says, but her tone lacks bite.
I focus on the road again, imagining I’m blocking traffic, but the car in front of me hasn’t moved more than an inch forward. “By the way, you look fucking stunning in that dress.”
“I’m glad you like it, since I wore it for you.”
“For me?” I blink so hard my contact lenses almost pop out.
Although she purses her lips, a blush tints her cheeks. “I knew I’d be competing for your attention tonight, so I came prepared.”
This is why my head is all over the place when it comes to her. Because I’d imagined Electra killed like she fucked and took what she wanted without hesitation and without qualms. But the Atlantean beside me is full of qualms and hesitation.
“You’re all I ever see, Electra. All I ever think about.” Neither is a lie.
Electra has become the axis around which my world revolves, which only deepens my certainty about how this mission will end, for what becomes of a globe after the loss of their axis?
“Even though you have no one to compete against, I fuckinglovethat you dressed for me.” I trail my gaze down her dress that’s so short and tight, it’s riding up her thighs.
I’m struck by how aggressively I want to reach over, push her legs apart, and slide my fingers over her panties to see how damp they are.
She shifts on her seat and flashes me white lace. Jesus fucking Christ. My half-hard dick rises to full mast before my next heartbeat.
I glance at the road to gauge how far out we are. Two blocks. I need to hold on for two more blocks. I inhale slowly, let the breath out slower. What’s meant to calm draws her scent in deep and fuels my erection.
This time, I’m the one who needs to shift in my seat.
The light turns green, but I go nowhere because both lanes are jammed. By the time the light switches to orange, I’ve crept forward one miserable foot.
Fuck it. I’m not waiting two blocks.
I lift my hand off the steering wheel and reach over. Her breath snags as my fingers land on her warm, silken thigh, before skating inward, toward warmer, silkier skin.
When I brush wet lace, my balls draw tight, and my pulse races up the back of my throat. “Jesus…you’re drenched.”
I graze her mound, pressing the soaked lace between her slit before pulling it to the side so my fingers can play.
Her lips part around a moan I can’t hear over the thumping bass, but that I can feel on my fingers because it rolls through the whole of her.
