“Please don’t threaten my guards,” Wylder finally says, and I reach over and squeeze his thigh.
“I have to, or they don’t take me seriously.”
“I’m sure Brennan takes you very seriously,” he replies as we pull away from the house, an SUV guiding us and one trailing behind.
“I don’t know. He did call me a pipsqueak with a tiny ass while we were on the grounds fixing the broken camera.” Brennan chokes, and I giggle. “Just kidding. He didn’t say that, even though I kind of am a pipsqueak. Small and very…squeaky. And I do have a very nice ass.”
“You do,” Wylder says, his voice low.
His hand falls onto mine—the one I’ve left on his leg. He curls his fingers around mine, and I feel something warm move through me. My heart beats quicker, and I inhale deeply to catch my breath.
As we drive toward town, I wiggle in my seat in nervous excitement.
“Do I get even a hint about where we’re going? Or what’s in that bag?” Wylder asks after a long moment.
He motions to the satchel I grabbed from my room earlier, and I shake my head. “Nope. You have to wait.”
He pushes his glasses up his nose and says, “Hm. Fine.”
I bring his hand up to my lips, and something unfurls inside of my abdomen.
“Since you’re being impatient, I could distract you until we arrive.”
Wylder’s eyes grow hooded as I drag the back of my hand across the bulge in his pants.
Wylder’s lips part, and I hear a soft pant move from his throat.
“I’m never impatient.”
“You’re the most impatient man I’ve ever met. Now tell me, do you want me to suck your dick?”
“We shouldn’t,” he says, but I see the light in his eyes. His monster is coming out to play, wanting this as badly as Wylder does. He likes to be bad, to let loose.
“We so should.”
I unbuckle my seat belt and whisper, “Come on. Unzip. Take it out.”
He glances up at Brennan, whose vision is laser-focused on the road ahead of him. Good. This is between Wylder and me.
When his cock finally makes an appearance, I run my tongue across my teeth.
“Better be quiet,” I say softly and lean forward, taking him into my mouth. Wylder’s hand fists in my hair, making my eyes roll back at the sensation of him losing control. It’s like a string pulled taut, snapping in the most delicious fashion.
He shoves me down on his cock, and I choke around him, my own dick straining in my pants as he fucks my face. I let him, listening to his sharp exhales, his long inhales, until he’s spilling into my mouth with a soft groan.
It’s almost my undoing, my body shuddering as he pulls me off him.
I sloppily swipe at my mouth and lean my cheek against his thigh, catching my breath. It’s then that I realize we’ve come to a stop and Brennan has his fingers in his ears, his eyes closed.
I huff a small laugh and sit up, watching as Wylder, with shaking hands, tucks his cock back into his pants.
“See, we’re here,” I say, my voice raspy from overuse. “It was like no time passed. Either that or you came really fast.”
He wets his lips and nods. “Seems so.” Then his gaze shifts to the bulge in my pants. “I’ll take care of that later.”
“You better,” I say with a wink, and then slip out of the car, watching as Brennan snaps his eyes open and follows us out. We’re in the poorer part of St. Dimas, the lights uneven and sickly, and the sidewalks cracked. As I walk past the askew buildings, my chest tightens, nerves fluttering within me.
What if he hates this? What if this was a huge mistake?
