Emilia, what the fuck are you doing? Get your head out of your hormones and get back to reality!
In a move of desperation, I lurch sideways out of his arms and onto the seat. Or, I try to. Somehow, in my haste to get away, I miscalculate just how close together our bodies are. As I slide left, the motion brings my ass into full contact with the seam of his pants… and the undeniably swollen shaft that’s sprung to attention beneath.
We both freeze at the impact.
Holy.
Fuck.
He’s huge. And hard as a rock. Just the sensation of him through the fabric of my skirt sends a shockwave through me, strong enough to tear the remaining shreds of my composure into ribbons. It takes all my strength to hold my spine rigid, to keep my muscles tensed with indifference when every atom in my body is screaming that I should do the exact opposite. My heart is beating so hard, I’m sure he can hear it pounding at the pulse-point in my neck.
I hate that a man I’ve never met before is affecting me this much, this fast. I hate that he’s been nothing but a jerk to me, that the world is falling apart around us, and that, regardless of all that… desire still throbs inside my veins, a relentless drumbeat.
Hate it.
Hate this.
Hate him.
So… what does it say about me that I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life?
There is something seriously wrong with you. That’s what it says, Emilia.
He’s breathing hard. So am I. The moment drags on and on, neither of us saying a word, neither of us moving so much as a muscle. I have a feeling if I tried to pull away right now, he’d let me go with no resistance.
So, why can’t I seem to budge?
“Please,” I murmur finally. I’m trying to sayplease let me gobut I can’t seem to conjure the rest of the words. For some unfathomable reason… my plea comes out sounding like I’m pleading for a wholly different sort of release.
“Pleasewhat, love?” His voice is almost a growl.
I press my lips tight together to contain the small sound that bubbles up from a dim, dangerous place inside me that I don’t want to acknowledge. A place that would gladly let this stranger take anything he wanted from me in this dark backseat, while giving me what would probably be the most exciting sex of my boring, vanilla life.
Christ, Emilia. You’ve been kidnapped, the world is effectively ending… and you’re thinking about having sex with a man you loathe?
His lips find my ear again and I practically moan at the sensation of his warm breath on the sensitive lobe. “You were right, you know. Earlier, what you said…”
I blink stupidly.
What did I say?
Honestly, I’m not sure I care anymore…
“Iama heartless asshole,” he whispers baldly. “You’d be wise to remember that.”
Before I have a chance to retort, he releases me with a light shove. As soon as his hands fall away from my wrists, the fog of desire dissipates from my head. Reason returns swiftly and, with it, burning shame at my own weakness.
This is exactly what happens when you let hormones hijack your brain, dummy…
Face aflame, I scramble off his lap, back to my seat, as far from him as I can manage in this confined space. It’s no use — even pressed up against the hard plastic door panel, I can still feel his hands on my wrists, his breath on my neck, his heat crushing my back, his hard length…
No!
No.
Never think about that again.
It’s no use, though. Every atom in my body is still buzzing with supercharged sexual energy, despite the embarrassment clawing through my chest.