Page 47 of Wild Promise

She turned her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together, and leaned her body into the center console, getting as close to me as her seat belt and my truck’s design would safely allow.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I feel like I’ve been working on it forever. It’s nice to know someone sees the effort I’ve put in.”

“Melina.” I pulled her hand to my lips. “Anyone who can’t see you’ve busted your ass for this hasn’t been watching. But I have, and trust me, your dedication to your job is commendable. Not to mention, your ass is pretty fucking exquisite, so it hasn’t been much of a hardship to watch.”

“Zane.” She laughed brightly. “You’re deplorable.”

“Fuck, I hope that’s a compliment,” I teased, relaxing into the sound of her distraction. “But you can let me know later tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Well, someone needs to bring you home from work. I assumed that would be me since we already have a date.”

Instantly, she went silent, and the humor between us evaporated. Her hand drew away from mine, and reluctantly, I let go as she shifted in her seat, turning her body toward me.

“Pull over,” she demanded.

“What? We’re almost there. I promise to stop pressuring you, just let me?—”

“Zane.” Her voice was soft, but her tone was urgent. “Pull over. Now.”

My heart beat wildly, and my hands trembled around the wheel. I didn’t know how the hell I’d fucked up this time, but whatever I’d done, I was prepared to grovel.

The truck bounced onto the road’s gravel shoulder, the recently plowed snow crunching under the tires. The minute I shifted the gear into park, she was on me.

But not the way I expected.

Her seat belt snapped open, and she started climbing over the console, attempting to wedge her luscious body between me and the steering wheel.

“Ah, fuck,” I grunted, fumbling for the button to lay back the seat and mentally cursing the electric motor for not moving fast enough.

She hesitated, one hand on my shoulder and a leg partway over the most inconveniently placed barrier ever.

“Get your gorgeous ass over here,” I growled, impatient to feel her close to me again.

The smile that graced her lips was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. With the seat now almost fully reclined, she crawled over me, flattening her body to mine, and I let out a strangled groan at the feel of her curves molding against me.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, her lips hovering just above mine.

My mouth grazed hers in a teasing whisper. “You want it?”

She wriggled over me, and the friction nearly short-circuited my brain. “I want you so much it hurts. Are you going to make me beg again?”

Fuck me. “How much time do you have?”

“Just over forty minutes.” Her voice trembled before she bit down on her lower lip.

“That’s enough.” My hands smoothed over her back, down to her ass, and squeezed. “I won’t make you beg, but I am going to make you feel really fucking good.”

Her whimper undid the last thread of my restraint, and her mouth fell to mine. I kissed her back like I was starving—devouring every sigh, every gasp, every sound she gave me.

Without breaking the kiss, I urged her up to her knees, my hands sliding up her legs, under her dress, and straight to the damp silk between her thighs.

She gasped into my mouth when I pulled the material aside and dragged my fingers through her wetness.

“Fuck.” My cock strained against my zipper, begging for freedom. “You have no idea what I want to do to you right now. How badly I want to taste this pussy. But that’s going to have to wait.”

“Oh God,” she cried when I circled her clit, right before pushing a finger inside her. “Zane. I… Oh, fuck.”