"Back seat." The words came out breathless, desperate. "Now."
I pulled back enough to look at her. "You sure?"
"I swear to God, Wolf, if you stop now?—"
I yanked open the back door of the cruiser, and she practically shoved me inside. The space was cramped, not meant for this, but I didn't give a fuck. She climbed in after me, straddling my lap, and my brain short-circuited.
Deputy Quinn Jenkins, Sheriff's daughter, the woman who'd been driving me insane for three weeks, was in my lap in the back of a police cruiser, looking at me like she wanted to devour me.
"This is probably illegal," she said, hands already working at my belt.
"Definitely illegal." I caught her wrists, stilling her movements. "Slow down, sweetheart."
"I don't want slow." She rocked against me, and I groaned. "I've wanted slow for three weeks. I'm done with slow."
"Quinn—"
She kissed me to shut me up, tongue sweeping into my mouth, and my control cracked. My hands found the buttons of her uniform shirt, working them open one by one, revealing simple white cotton underneath that somehow looked sexier than any lingerie I'd ever seen.
"You're killing me," I muttered against her throat, sucking a mark just above where her collar would hide it.
"Good." She yanked my shirt up, nails raking across my abs. "You've been killing me for weeks."
I found the zipper of her uniform pants, and she lifted up enough for me to work them down her hips. The space was cramped, my head brushing the roof, but neither of us cared.
"Fuck, look at you." My hands mapped her thighs, her hips, the curve of her waist. "So fucking perfect."
"Stop talking," she demanded, grinding down against me through our remaining clothes. The friction made us both gasp.
"Make me."
She kissed me again, fiercer this time, and while she was distracted I slipped my hand between us, finding her through the cotton of her panties. She was already wet, already ready, and when I pressed my thumb against her clit, she cried out.
"That's it," I encouraged, working her through the fabric. "Want to watch you come apart."
"Wolf, please?—"
"Not yet." I kept the pressure steady, watching her face as she chased her release. "Been thinking about this for three weeks. I'm going to savor every fucking second."
She was close, I could tell by the way her thighs trembled, the way her breathing went ragged. Just when she was about to tip over, I stopped.
"You bastard," she panted.
"You love it."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't." I slipped my fingers under the edge of her panties, finding her slick and swollen. "You're just frustrated. There's a difference."
I worked her again, two fingers sliding inside while my thumb circled her clit. She rode my hand, movements getting desperate, chasing the release I kept just out of reach.
"Please," she begged. "Wolf, please, I need?—"
"I know what you need." I curled my fingers, finding that spot that made her whole body jerk. "Come for me, Quinn. Let me feel it."
She shattered, crying out my name, internal muscles clenching around my fingers. I worked her through it, drawing it out until she collapsed against my chest, panting.
"Holy shit," she breathed.
