“It went well,” I say, then feel my face heat up dramatically. “Until it went completely nowhere productive and turned into something else entirely.” I giggle nervously and blush hard, unable to meet his eyes, and he glances over sharply, his expression shifting.
“Oh,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening with heat and something possessive. “I see. Both of them?”
I nod, still blushing.
“Lucky bastards,” he mutters, but he’s smiling.
Just then, the bundled-up woman returns to take our order, and we get hot chocolate with whipped cream, buttered popcorn, and several different kinds of candy.
She provides us with a sturdy tray that balances perfectly on the dashboard—apparently Ferraris are surprisingly well-designed for this kind of thing—and promises to return shortly with everything.
The movie starts just as she walks away toward the concession area.
I lean against Jasper, unable to believe how much I adore this. The warmth of the car compared with the cold outside, the glow of the massive screen, and Jasper’s solid presence beside me, his arm coming around my shoulders naturally. The lady returns within minutes with our goodies, and we settle in, watching the best movie and devouring treats.
About halfway through the movie, during the fire swamp scene, I’m acutely aware of him absently stroking my arm. His fingers trail up and down my sleeve, leaving goose bumps despite the warmth, creating this constant low hum of awareness in my body.
I’m trying desperately to fight off the kind of desire that seems to never be dormant anymore around any of them.
It’s like a constant simmer under my skin has just woken up, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation.
Unable to help myself, I lean in closer and slide my hand across his chest, finding the gap between buttons on his dark blue button-up shirt. My fingers touch warm skin beneath, light hair on his chest, solid muscle, and my whole body buzzes all over at the simple contact.
I groan quietly without meaning to.
He immediately glances down at me, his expression knowing and heated. “Is that what you’re in the mood for right now?Because I’m always in the mood for that with you.” He winks, and I melt.
“Evidently, my body is constantly like this around you four,” I admit. “I have zero control anymore. It’s embarrassing how desperate I am all the time, like I’ve lost restraint of my body.”
“Are you approaching your heat?” he asks softly, his hand sliding to my hip possessively. “Not that I mind at all. I just want to be prepared. And I feel left out, honestly, with the other guys getting to be with you intimately and I haven’t yet.”
“It shouldn’t be for another couple of weeks at least,” I explain, but I’m not entirely sure anymore. Everything feels heightened and intense lately. “But I don’t know. Maybe being around you four is affecting my cycle somehow.”
“Well, whenever it comes, I want to be there,” he says quietly.
We shift closer, the food tray temporarily forgotten, and I’m pressed fully against his side now, my face tilted up toward his.
“You’re so captivating,” I whisper, my heart racing.
He leans in more, his lips so close to mine that I can feel his breath. Then he lifts my chin with one finger and kisses me.
The move is so much more powerful than our first one outside my apartment. Deeper. More desperate. More claiming. Like we’ve both been holding back for days and suddenly the dam broke.
I’m floating, losing myself in the sensation of his lips on mine, his tongue exploring my mouth expertly, his hands gripping me tightly like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
We’re grabbing at each other frantically, trying to get closer despite the awkward car seats and low console creating a barrier between us.
When we finally come up for air, both breathing hard and ragged, I gasp out, “This is dangerous for my self-control.”
He laughs, the sound sending a thrill down my spine. Why does he sound so good? “You have absolutely no idea how muchI’ve craved you. How many nights I’ve lain awake thinking about making you mine.”
We kiss again, even more heated, and his hand slides under my shirt, his palm hot against my bare skin. He caresses my rib cage and travels up to cup my breast, pulling my bra down roughly to access my nipple directly.
I arch into his touch with a moan that’s far too loud.
His fingers pinch and roll my nipple, and pleasure shoots straight between my legs.
“Wait,” I gasp against his mouth. “People will see us.”
