He blinked, utterly confused. “What?”
She yanked open the door and climbed into the driver’s seat, her fingers gripping the wheel like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. Lochlan jogged around to the passenger side, barely managing to get in before the engine roared to life. The door slammed shut beside him as the force of Nia hitting the accelerator and peeling out of the lot, tires squealing against the gravel, threw him back against the seat.
“Leaving the protection circle,” she muttered, her knuckles white on the wheel.
“Where are we going?” he asked, glancing around as the thick trees lining the road began to thin out. They drove in silence for several more minutes before Nia steered the truck into the lot of a park at the bottom of the hill.
She turned off the engine, the sudden silence deafening after the chaos of the night.
Lochlan barely had a moment to gather his thoughts before Nia shifted across the console and climbed into his lap.
“Nia—”
“Don’t,” she murmured, cutting him off. Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers tight like she was holding on for balance—no, for control. Her breath was uneven, her lips brushing his in a way that felt almost frantic.
“I messed up,” she whispered. “I lost control. All those people. I could have hurt them… and you.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head like she couldn’t say the rest. “I just—” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, as if she wasn’t speaking to him so much as trying to outrun her own thoughts. “—I need to feel something else. Anything else.”
Her mouth crashed into his, desperate, insistent, her hands sliding beneath his jacket, lifting his shirt so her nails could scrape across his skin.
A shiver ran through him, but he didn’t pull her closer—not yet.
“I hate how tonight went.” Her hands fisted in his shirt, her forehead pressing to his like she was trying to steady herself. “I don’t want to be angry right now.” Another kiss, deep and urgent, like she could drown out the pain with him. “Please, Loch. I just… I need you.”
Lochlan’s breath hitched, his hands settling on her waist. She was unraveling in his arms, and he felt it—the ache of her fear and pain, the way she was trying to replace one feeling with another.
Her fingers twisted in his collar, pulling him closer, her hips rolling against him.
She kissed him again, tasting of desperation, of magic, of something so much deeper than the moment. Lochlan wanted her, wanted to lose himself in her?—
But not like this.
Not when she was trying to disappear inside him, to hide in the heat between them.
“Please,” she begged, her voice thick with urgency. Her fingers framed his jaw, her mouth moving against his like she could will away all that she was feeling. “You’re so hard,” she whispered, rolling her hips again, chasing friction. “I need you.”
A sound rumbled deep inside him, primal and unbidden.
“I’m here for you,” he said, his tone rough and clipped with restraint. “But clothes stay on.”
She whined softly, but her legs widened, pressing herself so firmly against his lap that his vision flashed white. He was going to come in seconds, and he couldn’t find the nerve to care. She was sexy and stunning and Lochlan wanted to be lost in her as much as she seemed lost in the moment. If this was what she needed, he’d give it to her—without letting things go too far.
His hands moved under her skirt, gripping her ass and guiding her movements, amplifying the friction that had her gasping.
“Chase that feeling, love,” he murmured. “Use me all you want.”
He was so hard it bordered on painful, the pressure dizzying. As her hips rocked into his, their bodies aligned just enough for him to slip partially free from the grip of his waistband.
Her eyes fluttered closed, breath catching. He swore he could feel her heat through the damp fabric, the tip of him exposed and pressing against it, straining for more.
“Loch,” she moaned, her rhythm faltering as tension built in her body.
He gripped the back of her head with one hand, firm but careful, anchoring her. His other hand slid up her thigh, finding the swell of her. His thumb pressed against her through the damp fabric, moving in slow, deliberate circles.
“Let me have it,” he rasped, his voice ragged and thick. “Make a mess of me.”
“Fuck-fuck-fuck,” she panted roughly against his mouth, her body jerking as waves of pleasure crashed through her.
Lochlan braced his feet against the floor of the truck, his own release surging violently through him, spilling hot against his stomach, pressed between him and her.
