Page 96 of Pack Fever

“It’s going to be okay,” he reassures me. I’m not so sure now.

When we emerge, the relentless SUV is nowhere to be seen. We’re driving madly down other streets, and I don’t see them behind us.

“Did we lose them?” I ask, my words shaky.

Seth doesn’t let up, his gaze scanning the mirrors as he keeps driving. Only then does he turn to me, his expression softening.

“I’ll always keep you protected, Danica. Never doubt that.” His words are a vow, a promise that wraps around me with the warmth of a blanket. His words are magic. I never expected to hear anyone promise them to me before I met the Fever Pack.

That earlier terrifying dread that consumed me begins to ease, replaced by an unwavering trust in the man beside me. I reach over and place my hand on his thigh as he cuts through the traffic with confidence, and I see the airport in the distance.

“That means everything to me. I grew up feeling like I had to always look out for myself, to protect my sister, to help my mom, so to have you care for me… it’s more than I could have ever hoped for.”

He looks at me with a small smile, and there’s warmth in his eyes. “You don’t have to worry anymore, okay? You’ve got us, and I personally am not going to let you leave us.” He blows me a kiss, and I’m swooning that a rock star god like him wants to be committed to me.

Is this even real life?

Chapter

Twenty-Three

DANICA

Back in New York City, the drive back to the hotel does nothing to soothe the worry inside me. Since the flight, something’s been off, a simmering unease that’s quickly turning into a full-blown inferno. My unbearable heat, which I thought I’d staved off with the pill, is back with a vengeance, clawing its way under my skin, setting my nerves alight.

That knowing, thrumming arousal is pouring through me like lava, and I’m squeezing my thighs, quivering from the pleasure coaxing me into a moan. I have the window open, the cold air rushing over my face, but nothing’s helping to cool me down.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” Seth asks, his nostrils flaring as if trying to scent the air.

I shift in my seat, trying to find a position that might alleviate the burning that’s consuming me from the inside out.

“I-I…” Another moan rolls past my lips. Even the brush of my shirt against my stiff nipples turns me on. My panties are soaked, and I’m on the verge of bursting with the world’s biggest orgasm. And no one’s even touched me yet.

“Your heat is flaring,” he states the obvious.

I just groan, gripping my seat and trying to take deep inhales to calm down.

“It’s so intense,” I manage to murmur between gasps.

His hand is on my thigh, and a purr escapes my lips at the touch, the deep-seated craving that’s going to destroy me if I don’t get his dick inside me.

Fuck.

Cock.

That’s all I can think about. That thick erection pushing into my juicy pussy, spreading me, making it hurt… taking away the agonizing horniness throttling me.

“Take your pants off,” I demand with urgency as I reach over for his zipper. I’ve never felt painfully desperate before, like if he doesn’t fuck me, I’m going to pass out and die.

My raging hormones are out of control.

“Danica,” he gasps as if he doesn’t know how to respond. “I’m on the expressway right now,” Seth replies, his voice tight.

“Now. Please. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me fast, to make me pass out. God, I need you to pound into my pussy, into my ass, like a maniac,” I demand, my gaze locking onto him with an intensity that belies my crumbling resolve. At this moment, he’s not just Seth—he’s the answer to a carnal hunger that’s becoming impossible to ignore. My fingers grip my seat as I hear the words pouring out of my mouth, begging to be fucked…

“Danica, fuck, you’re going to kill me. Hold on, sweetheart, okay?” His hand finds my knee in an attempt to offer comfort, but it only serves to fan the flames higher, sending a jolt of desire through my already overwhelmed body.

“It hurts, and God, why’s it so intense? I can’t stop thinking of your cock filling me.” I’m tugging at my clothes, needing to be naked, but his hand is on mine, stopping me. “I’m so wet, I think I’m going to drench your seat...” The words spill out of me in a desperate whisper, a confession of the agony that’s threatening to consume me. Yet, the embarrassment of admitting such a thing flushes my cheeks, adding to the inferno that’s already claiming me.

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