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I lean across the center console and claim her lips, one hand grasping her by the back of the neck. The heady gasp that escapes her is a mix of surprise and arousal. I suck on her bottom lip, teasing her mouth open with the tip of my tongue. Her hands fly to my hair, the heat of our bodies making the car windows steam.
“Gabriel, I—”
“Come here.”
I pull her onto my lap so she’s wedged between my body and the steering wheel, her thighs straddling me snugly. Raquel sighs contently as she explores my mouth, kissing me with unchecked fervor. She rocks her hips against me, my cock straining against the delicious friction. I adore the gentle scrape of her nails against my scalp, like she’s searching for a way to keep herself grounded.
I comb my fingers through her hair and grab a fistful. It’s a firm grip, but not hard enough to be painful. I pull my lips away, relishing the way she whines petulantly.
“You really have no problem throwing yourself at men, huh?” I growl, barely able to recognize the sound of my own voice. I sound possessive, almost angry. I dip back down to mouth at her pretty throat, tasting her sweet skin without an ounce of remorse.
Her hips buck involuntarily against me. “I n-needed to distract him,” she protests. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to get close enough to steal his —oh— phone.”
“And you think that makes it okay?” I grumble, slipping a hand down between us to unzip the front of her jacket. I gently squeeze her breast, rubbing the tip of her hard nipple with the pad of my thumb.
“Are you… Holy shit, you’re jealous!”
I move down even further to mouth at her breast, running my tongue over the thin fabric of her shirt. The moan that rips from her throat makes my cock throb. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I want this woman. On top of me, underneath me, screaming my name. I’d spend all night getting to know the shape of her body and the softness of her thighs, but deep down, I know this is an attempt to distract myself.
Because I’m afraid.
Afraid for my daughter. Afraid for Chet. Afraid forus.
This whole plan is bat shit crazy. I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I wouldn’t bet on us getting out of this alive. We’re rushing too much, juggling too many things. Something’s bound to go wrong at this rate. I’m waiting for this whole thing to implode, it’s just a matter ofwhenit’s going to happen. During the heist…
Or when Raquel realizes that I’m going to double-cross her.
Until then, though, the adrenaline is doing all the talking and I don’t want to stop.
I let my hand slide down between us, cupping Raquel between her legs. She shivers, her eyes dark with need and her lips parted just so. She’s a fucking vision, her hair spilling over her shoulders effortlessly while her face and patches of her throat bloom red with arousal.
“Go on,” I tease her. “Show me how those hips move.”
“Someone could see us,” she protests, but her body cants toward me anyways. “What if those guards come back?”
“Look around,petit oiseau. They’re long gone.”
Raquel huffs, nibbling seductively on her bottom lip. “Why do you keep calling me that? What does it even mean?”
I click my tongue. “Which do you want more? French lessons or to come on my hand?”
She lets out a delightful sound that’s caught between a whimper and a frustrated groan. She rolls her hips against my palm, eyes screwing shut in concentration. I grin, satisfied with her answer.
“Gabriel, I need—”
“What is it,petit oiseau?”
“I need you to touch me.”
“Iamtouching you.”
“No,” she whines. “More.”
“You’re going to have to explain more clearly. I’m afraid my English isn’t that good.”
“You understand perfectly fine, asshole.”
“What?” I ask her in French. “That’s not very polite of you. I think I’m going to make you beg.”
