“No signal,” Carter says checking his phone. “Looks like a dead zone.”
“Perfect,” I say, unbuckling.
Haven leans forward slightly, peering past Carter. “Wait… why are we stopping here?”
I smile without looking at her. “Because some places are meant for us alone.”
It’s not a park, more like a forgotten chunk of earth half-swallowed by wild grass and broken fencing, overgrown trails twisting between patches of cracked pavement and bustedplayground equipment. There’s an old merry-go-round, rusted at the base, spinning lazily in the wind.
Carter parks the car near what used to be a picnic table. Haven steps out first, stretching her arms overhead with a groan. “Why do I feel like this is the start of a horror movie?”
““Better question,” I cut in, stepping close, my hand sliding along her waist until I feel her breath catch. “Who says the scene hasn’t already started?”
She looks up at me through her lashes. God, she’s so fucking lethal. “Is this your version of romance, Ghost?”
“Angel, thisisromance.” I grip the back of her neck, fingers threading into her braid, yanking just hard enough to make her gasp into my mouth. “Mine,” I groan.
Her smile breaks the kiss. “Prove it.”
I shove her hoodie up, dragging the fabric over her head in one swift pull until she’s in just a thin tank top and barely-there sleep shorts that should be illegal. She made the mistake of taking off her leggings halfway through the drive.
My hand grips the back of her thigh pressing her up against the nearest tree. The bark scrapes the backs of her legs. Her gasp stokes something violent in me.
That reaction right there. That’s what cuts through everything else. No noise, no bullshit, no outside voices—just that.
Carter’s behind her in seconds, his hands smoothing down her sides, soft where I’m rough, steady where I’m chaos.
“You always this desperate?” I groan, grinding my hips into hers, biting her lower lip hard enough to pull a sound from her throat that’ll live in my goddamn bones forever.
Her hands claw at my hoodie, tugging, demanding. “Only for you. Both of you.”
Carter kisses the top of her ear, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. “Tell us what you want, baby.”
She trembles. “I want to be ruined.”
“Oh, pretty girl.” I grin. “You already are.”
I drop to my knees, dragging her shorts down with my teeth. I have no fucking patience right now. She’s bare in the evening air, that perfect pussy calling my name, fuck my heart at this point. I hook one leg over my shoulder and bury my face between her thighs.
My tongue drags slow at first long, firm strokes that makes her grab two fistfuls of my hair.
I suck her clit into my mouth and groan at the taste.
She tries to close her legs. “No,” I snap. “You take it. You fucking take all of it.”
Carter’s hand replaces mine, holding her open for me, his other palm stroking over her tits, his lips on her jaw, her throat, whispering praises. “So good. So perfect. That’s it, baby. Let go. Let him have you.”
She whimpers when I push two fingers into her, curling them up and hitting that spot that makes her hips jerk. I keep sucking, tongue fucking her through every clench, every tremble, not stopping even when she starts to beg.
“Fuck—Tate —I can’t—”
“Youwill,” I moan, dragging my mouth up to her stomach, her chest, licking a path up her sweat-damp skin. “You’ll come again, and again, and again, until you can’t remember your own fucking name.”
Carter eases her down to the grass as I strip my hoodie off and follow her down. Carter kisses her, slow and deep while I pull a knife from my boot
I drag the cool flat edge along her inner thigh, watching her twitch. I shift, pressing in closer, letting the knife trail higher before I pull it back just enough to make her feel the loss of it. Then I take her wrist, guiding her hand up to my chest.
“Use it pretty girl.”
