Page 92 of Where the Wattles Bloom

‘Jesus,’ Lachlan muttered, his lips momentarily leaving hers. ‘If we keep this up things are going to get messy.’

Rowena supposed that was meant to be some kind of warning but, as far as she was concerned, it was a giant freaking turn-on. She was pushing this hunk of big, strong, capable manly man to the limits of his sexual endurance.

That was dizzying.

Her lips curved into a smile against his as she ground a little harder. ‘Challenge accepted.’

She kissed him, the rumble of his guttural groan and the possessive way his hand cupped her nape barrelling her closer, too. Things were swelling and rippling and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, reaching for the sensation, trying to grab a firm hold.

Reaching, reaching, reaching.

But, as ever, it fluttered elusively just out of grasp, like the fireflies she used to chase as a kid.

Goddamn it.

Wrenching her mouth from his, Rowena gave a cry of frustration as she buried her face in his neck, twisting the fingers of one hand in his hair, gripping the headrest with the other as she rubbed frantically against him.

‘Ro?’ Lachlan’s breath chugged in and out, as harsh as her own. ‘What do you need?’

‘I just—’ Except she didn’t know what she just. She didn’t think it was possible to grind any harder without breaking something and there were sparks, they just weren’t flaring and ready to catch like they had been.

They were banking.

‘Can you—’

‘What?’ His voice was a rough pant in her ear. ‘Tell me what you need.’

Good question. If only she knew the answer. A miracle? A spell? A magic freaking wand? Rowena pummelled her fist against the headrest, infuriated at her malfunctioning body.

‘Let me help,’ he muttered, the hands clamped to her arse sliding around to her waistband, fumbling with the button.

But it was too late, the fireflies were so far in the distance now she could barely see them, and she pushed herself away from him, too annoyed and exasperated to even think of faking it this time.

He frowned, his eyes searching her face. ‘Ro?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, shaking her head as confusion and concern warred across his features. Suddenly ashamed of her malfunctioning body, she clambered off him as inelegantly as she’d clambered on. ‘I can’t.’

Absently she noted the fogged windscreen as she landed back—somewhat more dishevelled now—on her side of the car. Grabbing the handle by the side of her seat, Rowena lowered herself down as well. And there they both lay, the sound of their heavy breathing the soundtrack to her humiliation as they contemplated the ceiling.

‘Okay,’ he said eventually, ‘you want to tell me what just happened?’

Twenty-Two

Lachlan wasn’t sure what had happened but something clearly had. Things had been going well.

He’d thought?

Better than he’d hoped for. He hadn’t brought her here to make out—it had been his intention to do some stargazing somewhere other than Blairgowrie, and he liked it out here.

But, as ever, this pull he felt around her, the pull he knew she felt as well, flared like crazy in the close confines of the car. Before he knew it, he was touching her and then she was in his lap and they were kissing and …

He was certain she’d been having a good time. In fact, he’d been pretty sure she was close to orgasming.

He sure as hell had been.

Not exactly the usual way, but if grinding her way to the end was what she’d wanted in that moment then he’d been up for it. Lachlan was up for anything where Rowena was concerned.

Only, something had … changed. He’d sensed her frustration. The roots of his hair had certainly fallen victim to it as she’d yanked hard.