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Mac makes a growling noise in his throat, lifting his beer in the air.

“Next time keep your mouth shut,” Aunt Midge says over her shoulder, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her apron. “Was nice meeting ya, Mr. Blackthorne.”

“You, as well.”

“And, you.” Her eyes dip toward mine and Lucian’s clasped hands, and when they fall on me again, they’re winged up with worry. “Behave, all right?”

I sneak a glance toward Lucian and smile as I nod. “Always.”

Once again, we’re back in Lucian’s car, and as he fires up the engine, his eyes cruise over me and down to my legs. “Any other errands this afternoon?” he asks, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes.

“Nope.”

“Good. One more second in this town, and I might burst into flames.”

“I always thought the devil was one to cast flames, not succumb to them.” I slide the seatbelt across my body, where it slips between my breasts, and I click it in place.

He seems to take notice, staring for a moment, before he throws the car in drive. “So did I. Until you decided to wear that dress.”

Chapter 48

Lucian

The speedometer hovers around a-hundred-twenty on the ride back to the Manor. The trees that whip past the window are nothing but a black blur beneath the moon that sits high overhead.

Beside me, Isa curls her fingers into mine, squeezing and releasing, as the anxiety undoubtedly escalates with every mile the car swallows up like a reckless game of Pac-Man. Only the quiet hum of the motor can be heard beneath her nervous whimpers.

“Okay, this is … really fast.” If not for the belt strapping her in, she looks like she’s ready to crawl out of her skin.

“You’re nervous.” The needle edges past one-thirty. One thirty-five.

“We … we’re … almost going a-hundred-fifty miles-an-hour.”

I slide her hand onto my lap over the rock-hard erection that’s been pressing against my zipper for the last hour. The pressure through the fabric is enough to send a zap of ecstasy shooting up my spine, and on reflex, I hit the gas harder.

She slices her gaze toward me, eyes wide on my groin, where her hand grips my shaft. “Jesus. You’re like stone right now.”

Adrenaline courses through me, the speed and her delicate hands drawing me closer to the edge. But that’s not the only reason.

Being with her today, seeing her in this element, how she’s learned to survive with all the shit life has thrown at her, has only made her more irresistible to me. I want to steal her away from these vultures who’d pick at her bones until there’s nothing left of her. The same ones who’ve picked at me. Ones who’ve ravaged and discarded her. I want to shield her from their petty scorn and judgment.

I’ve been careful to avoid repeating my mistakes, but Isa is the kind of girl to make me pile them up like a fucking stack of pancakes with syrup on top. She makes me reckless and possessive.

With a squeeze of her hand, the car accelerates. Faster and faster. I tighten my fist around hers, grinding my teeth to keep from combusting, but it’s not enough. I need more.

I press the brake and jerk the wheel toward the shoulder of the road, squealing to a stop that sends her hands flying out to keep from bashing into the dashboard.

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon.” I flick my fingers for her to climb onto my lap. That dress has been messing with my head all night, and I can’t take it anymore. I want her. One taste.

There isn’t much room in the car, but she slides over the console and wedges one knee beside me, the other propped up on the driver’s door panel. Grabbing either side of her face, I pull her in for a kiss, rougher than I intend.

Doesn’t matter how many times we do this, her lips always taste like candy. A sticky, strawberry lollipop that I could lick for hours and never tire of the flavor.

My phone buzzes against the console beside me, but I ignore it, instead focusing on the softness of her skin as I eat the soft moans that leak from her lips.

The phone buzzes again.