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Then his mouth is on mine.

Starving.

Rough.

Warm.

Perfect.

A needy sound slips from me, swallowed by him as he lifts me effortlessly. My legs lock around his waist, and then my back meets the tree again. His body presses into mine, solid and shaking with the same need tearing through me.

I never want to forget this.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his breathing ragged and heavy.

I smile against his mouth.

“Do you want to put some condoms to use?”

His smile turns wicked.

Whatever control we had left disappears.

For good.

TWENTY-SEVEN

ANY WAY YOU WANT IT

LEON

Clair reaches over and turns on the radio.

Static crackles through the cab. Then Boyz II Men pours through my speakers.

I look at the radio.

Then at her.

Clair presses her lips together, fighting a laugh and losing. “Trish.”

Of course.

Of fucking course.

My hands grip the steering wheel as the truck bumps over another dip in the gravel road. Clair laughs beside me, bright and breathless in the dark cab, like she still can’t believe this is happening.

Neither can I.

After we cleaned ourselves up, mostly me, and got our clothes in order, we headed straight for my truck. Clair made sure to tell Lyla we’d be back. Lyla gave her a look that said too much. Jacob was worse, standing across the field with that shit-eating grin on his face like he’d just won something.

Asshole.

Like hell I was staying close enough for Edith to hear us. Not after what happened with Jacob and Lyla. No fucking way am I putting either of us through that kind of embarrassment.

The truck hits another rut, and Clair bumps against the seat, grabbing the dash as another laugh slips out. The sound winds through me, tightening everything it touches. Want. Need. Anticipation sharp enough to hurt.

I glance over at her.