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A smile curls on my lips as he takes the next exit, clearly not ready to let me have all the fun. He frees his hand from mine and deftly undoes the button on my pants, not bothering to unzip them all the way as he delves beneath the waistband of my panties.
“You’re so fucking wet for me already, babe,” he growls, already circling my clit.
I suck in a sharp breath as pleasure floods my body, my own hand slipping his cock from his boxers and rubbing down his length.
“I can’t wait to have you quivering around my cock,” he groans, keeping his eyes focused on the road as he pulls into a seemingly abandoned parking lot.
I twist my hand up and down his throbbing member while his fingers curl inside me.
“I fucking need you, Zeke,” I breathe, already working my pants down my legs with my free hand. As soon as this car stops, I’m going to be sinking down on his length and riding him harder than he’s ever—
“Uh, guys?” A muffled voice says from the back of the car.
I freeze, my heart thundering as my body goes stiff. I jerk forward in my seat as Zeke slams on the brakes and throws the car into park in the middle of the lot.
Did I really just hear that?
My hand flies off Zeke’s cock and onto my Glock as he slowly glides his fingers out of me. My seat belt is off in a second, and I waste no time crawling over the center console to the next row of seats.
Zeke flings open the door, his own gun already drawn as he barrels around to the rear of the car.
I steady my gun, aiming towards the back as Zeke opens the trunk.
“It’s just me!” the strangely familiar voice shouts. He bolts up from where he must’ve been huddled up in the back.
I scan over his face, my brows furrowing in confusion momentarily before realization hits me. No, it’s not Zeke staring back at me, his light grey eyes wide with fear and his hands raised. His dark stubble is less heavy than Zeke’s, like he’s shaved more recently, wearing a black sweatshirt rather than the leather jacket his twin is wearing.
Goddess. Why must you do this to me?
“Zayn,” I growl, my teeth gritting as I attempt to compose myself.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Zeke bellows. He holsters his gun and zips his pants, muttering a flurry of curses under his breath.
Shit.
I hurriedly do the same as Zayn’s gaze dips lower.
“I stowed away, obviously,” Zayn huffs as I slip my Glock back into the holster and pull my own pants back up, ducking awkwardly in the vehicle.
“And why did you stow away?” I ask incredulously, shaking my head in disbelief. This man. He’s going to get himself killed.
That thought sobers me, my stomach twisting over the exact reason why he shouldn’t be here.
“Because I wanted to help you but knew you wouldn’t let me come.” Zayn shrugs like the answer should be obvious.
A deep growl rumbles from my chest, and I sling open the door. I need to get some air and some space away from the infuriating man.
“There’s a reason why we would’ve said no. Get the hell out,” Zeke shouts as Zayn still crouches awkwardly in the back. He climbs out reluctantly, keeping a hand on the car as though we might just leave him here.
Honestly, he deserves to get stranded here, but I couldn’t do that to him. We’re already about halfway to New York, and if we left him here, who knows what sort of trouble he’d get himself into.
“Why did you wait so long to tell us you were here? You realize we could’ve shot you, right?” I clasp a hand over my chest as I try to calm my frantic heartbeat.
“Well,” he murmurs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He glances back at Zeke hesitantly before taking a few steps in my direction, as though he’s trying to gauge if Zeke is about to leave him here. “I honestly hadn’t thought about that. I planned to wait as long as possible, but when you two were about to … you know. It felt a little wrong not to let you know I was there, even though it was hot as hell.”
I scrub a hand over my face, letting loose a groan of frustration. “That’s the problem, Zayn. You didn’t think.”
I close the distance between us, my hand gripping his loose sweater as I pull him close.
