"I can't concentrate," he grits out.
I respond by taking him deeper.
The traffic must be moving because I can feel us accelerating, the engine humming beneath me. His thigh tenses under my palm, and his breathing grows ragged, punctuated by soft curses and my name repeated like a prayer.
Then suddenly we're slowing down, turning, gravel crunching under the tires. I lift my head just enough to see that he's pulled off the highway onto some kind of canyon overlook, a small clearing surrounded by scrub brush and rocks with a view of the valley below.
He throws the car into park and reaches for me.
"Backseat," he orders. "Now."
We scramble over the center console like teenagers, all tangled limbs and desperate kisses. It's broad daylight, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, and anyone driving by could see us. I don't care. I need him inside me more than I've ever needed anything.
Phoenix yanks my jeans down my legs while I pull at his sweater. He settles between my thighs on the leather seat, bracing himself with one hand while the other guides himself to my entrance.
"Look at me," he demands.
I meet his eyes as he pushes inside, and the connection of it, his body filling mine while his gaze holds me captive, is almost too much to bear. We both gasp at the sensation, and then he's moving, long deep strokes that make the whole car rock on its suspension.
"I love you," his voice drops to something raw and unguarded. "I love you so much it scares me."
"I love you." I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Never leave me."
"Never."
The windows are fogging from our breath, and I can hear birds somewhere outside, completely oblivious to what's happening in this car. Phoenix's thrusts grow harder, faster, and I dig my nails into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
"Mine," he growls against my throat. "Say it."
"Yours." The word comes out broken, shattered by pleasure. "Always yours."
He drives into me once more, twice, and then we're both falling, clinging to each other as the world explodes into white-hot sensation. His body shudders above me, and I feel him pulse inside me, and everything is perfect and terrifying and exactly right.
Afterward, we lie tangled together in the backseat, too exhausted to move. His weight pins me to the leather, and I can feel his heartbeat hammering against my chest, gradually slowing to match the rhythm of my own.
"We should probably get home," I murmur eventually.
"Probably." He doesn't move.
I run my fingers through his hair, damp with sweat at the temples. "People might see us."
"Let them."
I laugh softly, and he lifts his head to look at me with an expression so tender it makes my heart clench.
"Welcome home," he says.
I kiss him, soft and slow, tasting the future we're building together.
"It's good to be back."
CHAPTER 21- JADE
The days settle into something resembling normalcy.
I wake each morning to the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the warmth of Phoenix's body curved around mine. We have coffee on the balcony, watching the sun climb over the Pacific while seagulls wheel and cry overhead. He goes to the office, and I stay home, and when he returns in the evening, we cook dinner together or order in and watch movies on the enormous television.
It feels almost domestic. Almost safe.
