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“We’re here why?” She looked around in the darkness.
“For this.” He turned, unclipped her seat belt, and a second later, the back of her seat met the back seat of the dual cab, creating a bed, of sorts.
“I didn’t know it did that,” she exclaimed nervously as he lifted her, pushing her until her head rested on that back seat and his hands gripped her waist.
His breathing was hard. Deep. She could see the wild glitter of his eyes, the hunger in his face.
“You had no business staying here,” he bit out again. “No business putting up with the bastards that stare at you as though you should be in their beds while they sweat over you. As though you’re a toy for their amusement.”
Jealousy, it poured from him. It glittered in his eyes and struck an independent nerve she didn’t know she had.
“Am I more than that to you?” Her hands lay by her head. She didn’t push him away. She didn’t fight against the arousal building inside her. “You’re bitching over something you want yourself, Noah. Possession.”
He parted his lips as though to speak. To answer her. A second later his head lowered and he caught her lips in a kiss instead.
Like a match to gasoline, the hunger and the need exploded inside them just that fast.
Noah could explain, but not fully, the need to fuck her in that pickup truck. The fact she had let him drive it, thinking he was another man. That she had sat next to him, that the irrational jealousy was eating him alive. He wanted to imprint himself on the truck and on the woman. He wanted to make damned sure no other man ever drove this truck, ever fucked this woman.
His.
Possessiveness bit into his guts like a demon. The unfairne
ss of it was uppermost in his mind, but the need overpowered the thought and left him helpless to fight it. He had known, before he left her, during his capture and after, that there were plenty of men willing to fill Sabella’s bed. He’d assumed that after three years, she would have had a lover. At times he had wished she had so he could have walked away and never had to look back.
But as her kiss filled him, as he took it with a desperation, a hunger, that only continued to build inside him, he knew it wouldn’t have mattered. They would have still ended up here, one way or the other. The clock had been ticking, each second drawing him back; his hunger for her would have eventually proved to be too much.
Tonight, though, he might have gone too far. Only Rory knew that Nathan had readjusted the lever on the seats in the truck that would allow it to create a small bed within the dual cab. To make the front seats lower all the way back to meet the edge of the back seats and hold their position there.
The head rests folded back once the seat was lowered automatically, creating a wedge between the seat and the floor to keep it sturdy.
It had been done with every intention of eventually doing this. Taking Sabella parking. He’d never gotten around to it. But now, that obsession he had always fought with his wife rose inside him, ripping at his mind.
She thought her husband dead. Gone. And she had allowed another man to touch her, hold her, to drive his damned truck.
After tonight, no matter what the future brought, no other man would have what was his.
His hands tightened on her hips as he growled against her lips. His tongue stroked inside her mouth, licked over hers, and the pulsing awareness of need flowed around them like bands of flames, tightening on them.
He didn’t feel the stretch and pull at the tender healing flesh of his wounds. He didn’t give a damn. All he felt was Sabella, her hands gripping the leather of the back seat as he kissed her, craved her.
Jerking his head back, he stared down at her. Moonlight flowed into the cab of the truck, caressed her face, her dove-gray eyes, and swollen lips. Beneath the thin silky blouse her breasts rose and fell as she panted for air. Noah had to clench his teeth to keep from tearing the blouse from her body.
Levering himself over her, he stared down at her body. The skirt had ridden up her thighs, nearly showing her panties, kicking a punch of reaction in his gut that stole his breath.
Her thighs shimmered in the moonlight, like satin, like sweet, soft magic. Sabella had always been magic to him. Loving her had been his salvation and his greatest torment. His fiercest hunger.
“You’re perfect.” He laid his hand against her thigh, watched the lightly toned muscle ripple around his touch, felt her response against his palm.
“Not hardly,” she whispered, the throaty sound slicing through his senses with a surge of lust he could barely contain.
He smoothed his hand over her thigh, petting, caressing. The feel of her was like a narcotic, going to his head faster than any drug.
“I want you naked.” He wanted it until it filled his head with nothing but the remembered sight and feel of her. “Keep your hands up there.” He pushed them to the back of the seat, watching as her fingers curled beneath the shallow indent between seat and cushioned back. “That’s a good girl. Just let me touch you.”
“But I like touching you too.” She arched as his fingers went to the little buttons of her blouse. They were almost too tiny, his fingers almost too clumsy. God, he wanted her until he was shaking with it.
Adrenaline spiked through him. He could feel it. He could feel the advanced lust that surged inside him, just at the thought of having her naked.
