Page 52 of Kat Bethel

“Good for her.” I scratched the back of my neck. “You’re married?”

“Nope.”

The snarky comment sat right on my tongue, but I bit it to keep the words in place. Getting in an altercation thirty miles from the nearest town, while my truck was inoperable wasn’t on the bingo card of bullshit for the day.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” I said instead.

My fingers drummed on my thigh as I stared at the road ahead, ignoring the blatant stares at my tits. I’d met fifteen-year-old boys with more self-control.

Did the constant hum of Abiel’s growling not make his hair stand on end like it did mine? How could a grown man not feel the threat of the knife under his throat?

Flitting kisses tickled the right side of my neck as if in apology.

“I really am sorry, Dandelion. I didn’t mean for you to end up breathing the same air as him,” Abiel whispered so softly I barely heard it.

I jerked my chin to stare at the road again, hoping to silently shame him into making himself scarce. I didn’t want his apology, and I wasn’t in the mood for another outburst.

It didn’t work. Instead, his fingers caressed down my arms sensually, then ghosted under my shirt without moving the fabric. Flutters low in my stomach made me want to cuss him.

Gentle fingers brushed across my nipples, and it took every muscle in my body to keep from squirming. I couldn’t even tell him to stop without getting the driver’s attention.

The bastard.

His fingers played me expertly, and I bit my lip to keep from making any sound that would make the driver think he had anything to do with the moisture gathering between my thighs.

My nipples were poking past my bra when his fingers traveled down to the waistband of my jeans.

Panic filled me and made my face burn. My eyes flitted to the driver and was met with another smarmy grin. Embarrassment made my eyes snap back to the road, as if that would keep him from seeing how flustered I was.

I crossed my legs as if that would hold Abiel at bay. A shadow wouldn’t be so easily deterred.

Something rubbed across my clit, and I had to cough to cover up the sound I made. The driver studied me closely, “Are you okay?”

I nodded my head and focused on breathing as the touches rubbing over me grew more and more pleasurable. I could swear there were more than five fingers. My whole body had to be beet red, as warm as the cab was.

Stop! Please!

My silent begging was met with something shapeless wriggling inside my core.

Fuck. No.

My eyes shot to the driver again, making sure he was ignorant to what was happening inches away from him.

Abiel filled me past what I thought was possible, pressing against my G-spot in a way that wasn’t natural for a cock, but had my eyes rolling back. It was so wrong.

Fuck, yes.

Blood filled my mouth as I held back the moans, and I fought the urge to meet Abiel thrust for thrust.

The knot inside my stomach built up hard and fast.

My eyes went to the driver, who was thankfully still focused on the road. I closed my eyes and angled myself toward the door, hoping to hide my face.

“Are you carsick?” the driver asked.

“Claustrophobic,” I lied. I hoped my breathlessness sold the anxiety, instead of him realizing I was panting like a bitch in heat.

Abiel thrust harder. His soft growl in my ear took me higher. “Focus on me.”