They fumbled like teenagers, climbing awkwardly over seats, laughing when her dress caught on the gear shift and Victor’s foot hit the horn. Then they were in the back, she was straddling his lap, and his hands were everywhere.
“Ava.” He breathed her name against her throat like a prayer. “We should?—”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
She pulled his mouth back to hers, swallowing whatever responsible thing he’d been about to say. His hands slid up her thighs, bunching fabric. She rolled her hips against him and felt him groan into her mouth, a sound that shot straight through her, pooling low and hot.
“The retreat,” he managed between kisses. “Two days?—”
“I’m renegotiating the timeline.”
His laugh vibrated against her lips. “That’s not how timelines work.”
“I’m a lawyer. I renegotiate everything.”
But even as she said it, she knew he was right. Their first time shouldn’t be in the back seat of a Tesla surrounded by spilled leftovers. When they crossed that line, and they would, she wanted it to matter.
She pulled back. Both of them breathing hard. His pupils were blown wide, the demon showing behind his expression, something ancient and wanting.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “Not like this.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Drama queen.”
“Says the woman who just attacked me in my own car.”
“Attacked is a strong word. I prefer ‘aggressively appreciated.’”
He laughed and helped her climb back to the front seat with as much dignity as possible.
The black bean sauce had, unfortunately, found its way onto Victor’s navy jacket.
“My mother is going to be devastated,” Ava said. “That was her best recipe.”
“I’ll tell her it was delicious.”
“You didn’t eat any of it.”
“I’ll lie.” He started the car. “Two days.”
“Fifty-two hours and sixteen minutes.”
“Now who’s counting?”
“I learned from the best.”
They pulled back onto the road. Victor reached over and took her hand.
“Your parents did like me,” he said.
“They’re going to be planning our wedding now.”
“Let them plan.”
Two days until the retreat. Fifty-two hours until they’d have to convince a room full of demons that what they had was real.
The mark pulsed warm against her chest.
