Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,85

his pleasure?”

His chest hitches with an almost-laugh, and he stares at the floor, smiling to himself.

“What?” I step into his space, squinting up at him.

“You make me ridiculously happy.” He trails his fingers across my cheek and tucks my hair behind my ear. “It’s a novel feeling, like I discovered a magical cure. But with that comes the overwhelming need to lock you away and protect you.”

Lock me away? I laugh. “I won’t go quietly.”

“I expect nothing less.” He grabs my hips and throws me over his shoulder.

The air rushes out of me. I hang upside down, bracing my hands on his back as blood drains to my head.

He pivots toward a mirror and flips up the skirt of my dress, exposing my nude backside. “Goddamn, I wish you could see this.”

I crane my neck, attempting to catch a glimpse of my reflection, but the angle’s off. I see his hand, though, as it glides up my thigh and disappears between my legs.

“I fantasize about your pink little cunt and all the ways I’m going to tear it up.” His voice is guttural and breathy, his fingers creeping, sinking, twisting into my pussy.

Liquid heat melts through my body and dampens my folds. I sag, boneless and panting, draped over his shoulder.

“Already wet.” He thrusts his hand, stimulating my inner muscles and shortening my breaths. “So fucking responsive.”

Pleasure rises, consuming me in pulses of electricity.

Until his touch disappears.

“Not yet.” He presses a kiss to my hip, adjusts the skirt over my butt, and caveman-carries me out of the house, locking the door behind him.

“You’re such a tease.” I squirm in his hold as the driveway blurs beneath his swift long strides.

He laughs, dumps me into the backseat of the waiting sedan, and proceeds to tease me for the duration of the thirty-minute drive.

I don’t know where we’re going, and I can’t find my voice to ask. His fingers are relentless, bringing me to the brink of orgasm and pulling back before I come. Over and over and over.

He keeps me in a heightened state of arousal, teasing and denying to the point of mindlessness. So mindless the driver’s presence in the car fades into oblivion. It’s not like I’ll ever see him again. Trace’s drivers are as consistent as his moods.

“We’re here.” Trace slides his fingers from between my legs and straightens my clothes.

That’s not going to work. My insides clench so viciously I’m seconds from exploding.

“I need to come.” I release the seatbelt and swing a leg over his lap, fumbling with the button on his fly. “Just fuck me. Right here.”

The driver—an older gentleman in a black suit—steps out and shuts the door. Beyond the windows, the only building in sight is a gas station, surrounded by a packed parking lot and endless crop fields.

I mold my fingers around the hard shape of him beneath the zipper. “Pull it out, Trace. We can be quick.”

He straightens his tie. “I’m thinking about Virginia in her granny panties.”

My head jerks back, eyes wide. “What the actual fuck?”

“Guaranteed boner-buster.” He lifts me off his lap and steps out of the car, pulling me with him. “This place has the best Bar-B-Q.”

“It’s a gas station,” I grumble and trudge beside him, my hand locked in his and my thighs sticking together. “I’m dripping down my legs.”

“Dripping is exactly how I want you.”

The discomfort continues through dinner. He keeps his hands to himself, but those damn hooded eyes never stop touching me, caressing me, and making my pussy thrum.

And the gas station in the middle of nowhere? Turns out, it serves the best pulled-pork sandwiches I’ve ever tasted.

Bellies full, we’re back in the car, riding along a dirt road in the middle of cornfields. I think it’s corn. The sun closes in on the horizon, and all I see is tall stalks of rippling green against the fading blue sky.

I rest my head on Trace’s shoulder. “Are we going to have sex in a field of corn?”

“No.”

“On a horse?”

“No.”

“In an abandoned shack with chainsaws and a musty mattress?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s a negative.”

“But we’re going to have sex. Just tell me where and how soon.”

“Look out the windshield.”

I lean forward and spot something huge and colorful flapping in the distance. “What is that?”

The car draws closer, bumping on the uneven road and jolting my excitement. As the ginormous object grows and lifts from the field, it takes on a round, recognizable shape.

“Get the fuck out!” I gasp as a hot