Page 71 of Forbidden Heroes

“Maddox,” she repeats in a stronger voice with a slight sexy rasp around the edges. I didn’t know what to expect hearing my name on her lips, but the shot of blood to my dick isn’t a surprise.

She reaches up and tucks a lock of wet hair behind her ear. My pulse races when the scent of her shampoo, or whatever it is she’s wearing, mingles with the hot air from the vents to hit my senses. Water has soaked through the fine linen of her shirt and I can see the tips of her nipples like little cherries poking out to tempt the beast in me.

Lines are getting blurred, and it’s getting harder to keep my distance. Sitting here with her will have repercussions I’ve yet to discover, but one is glaringly obvious.

Having her this close to me is a very bad idea.

Four

Amber

No. No No. This is not happening. The power of the man surrounding me says this is very much happening indeed. I’m not sure where Maddox showing up outside my car in the pouring rain sits on my radar and the rule of three plaguing me right now. Good? Bad? A sign all the woo-woo is in my head only?

Definitely unexpected and oddly welcomed, that’s for sure, but at the same time not knowing twists my insides like a pretzel.

Is my run of bad luck finally over?

I earmark that thought with a to be determined label to circle back around to at a later moment. Preferably after some sleep. Right now my brain is hazy, and I would not be doing myself any favors by trying to figure anything out at this late hour.

Or maybe it depends on perspective, I guess, but looking at him and seeing the seething anger in his eyes I’m firmly toeing the line either way.

We’re pressed together where our body heat mixes, chasing away the chill of the water. I’m breathing heavy, and suddenly I’m intensely aware of my water-soaked shirt clinging to the curve of my breasts. The fact my hardened nipple juts out isn’t lost on either of us, judging by the hardening of his cock under my ass.

I shimmy my hips a little, causing his dark lashes to dip ever so slightly. Rippling muscles and warm skin is all I feel when I press the palms of my hands against his chest and turn slightly.

I go to move a little, but he clamps a dominant, firm hand over my upper thigh before I can budge. “Don’t,” he says gruffly.

Oh, someone is getting all worked up.

“Jesus,” he mutters.

“Maddox…”

“Just give me a minute, Amber. Don’t move…just…give me a minute,” he orders, and I wonder for the thousandth time what he would sound like in bed.

There’s an obvious strain in his voice. My heart has a hard time settling into a steady rhythm from the sudden and very real feeling of being in his lap, his arms around me and his lips so near. Not to mention his hand on my thigh. His fingers are kneading the muscle, but I don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Just something to help him rein in his control. Jeans or not, I can feel the scorching burn of his touch, and it’s like a shot of lust to my system.

“Let’s start with this and go from there. Where are your parents?” His voice is low, steady and laser-focused like he’s working to keep it all together. “Do they know what their daughter is up to after school hours?”

What the heck did that mean? His eyes are closed, and I can feel him pulling himself back from me, but news flash. I’m still on his lap, and his dick is still very much in the game even if he isn’t.

He surprises me by moving me to the side and reaching between his legs. His eyes are wild, and he’s makes sure I’m watching—how can I not—as he repositions his thick cock, and it’s hell on earth not being the one doing the touching.

Through the fog of my brain, I try to remember my practiced go-to answer for his question but come up empty. “The sitting in a dark parking lot lap dripping wet part with my dean’s cock in my ass or the stripping for him part?” I probably shouldn’t tease, but he’s making it hard not to.

His growl is low and rumbles through him with ease and into me.

It has me willing to do anything he orders of me.

When my question doesn’t do what I expect and have him ravishing me, I offer something close to the truth to his. “I have no real idea where my dad is.” I shiver as water trickles down my arms, and he takes it for me being cold instead of repulsed by my own answer, but I don’t make a move to correct his thinking.

Maddox leans into the space between the front seats. Water has soaked through the material of his dress shirt and molds to contoured lines of sculpted pecs and arms chiseled from hours in the gym.

He leans back into the seat and his broad shoulders cover every inch of it. Holy shit, he’s fucking ridiculously hot. And why am I thinking that right now? I should be freaking out that I have nowhere to live, not eyeballing the hot, fuckable dean.

I hear the rustle of fabric and then feel something soft settle over my shoulders that smells of Maddox. Safe, controlled Maddox. The man I have no business wanting. More so, who has no business pulling me into the cab of his truck well after midnight no matter the reasoning behind it.

I hear a whispered fuck and then he’s tucking the warm material around the both of us, eyes trained on my lips. His breaths as steady and even as the man in front of me is, and I love the feel of each one as they lightly brush against my cheek.

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