Page 50 of Pack Obsession

"And now you help people."

"Sometimes." His eyes meet mine briefly. "Sometimes we help ourselves."

I process that as miles of darkness roll past.

Something about his presence adds to the fire always inhaling me. Or maybe it’s his scent—stronger now in the confined space and I’m not panicking for my life. I shift in my seat, suddenly too warm.

"You okay?" His nostrils flare slightly.

"Fine." I press my thighs together, a tingle buzzing deep inside me. "Just tired."

But another wave of heat rolls through me, stronger this time. Slick dampens my underwear as my body betrays me. Shit, no!

"Casey." His tone drops lower, rougher. "Your scent..."

"It’s nothing." Except, it’s there, intensifying. No point lying now. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t apologize." He punches something into the GPS. "How intense is it?"

"I don’t..." Another cramp hits, making me gasp, and I clasp around my stomach. "No idea. This is my first time."

"Cabin’s an hour away. Think you can wait it out?"

Fear slides cold down my spine despite the heat building under my skin.

"Nash..."

"Hold on." His knuckles go white on the wheel, taking stares at me, concern and something else building behind his gaze.

His scent of cinnamon baked rolls with the warm hearth smoke is everywhere now, heavy and sexy as fuck. It’s driving me wild, calling to something primitive in my blood. Desperate arousal gathers between my thighs, and I stare at his strong hands dreaming about them on me.

"Talk to me," he grits out. "Distract us both."

"About what?"

"Anything. Everything. Tell me about your first dance recital."

So I do. I talk about falling on stage, about Kai’s horrified face in the audience, about how he brought me shaved ice after to cheer me up. I talk until my voice shakes too much to continue, until the heat makes coherent thought impossible.

"Nash..." My tone breaks on his name, thick with the kind of desperation that claws its way up my throat.

"Less than an hour," he bites out, jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumps. His knuckles are white, and I know he’s not as composed as he’s pretending to be.

Another wave of heat slams into me, stronger, deeper. It’s like an electrical shock, a frantic, aching pull that centers low in my belly. His scent explodes around me—cinnamon and pine and smoke, but sharpened, edged with something primal, something demanding. Every breath feels like a desperate gasp. He’s it, everything. The only thing I can think about, the only thing my body is demanding.

"I can’t—" The words tear from my throat as desire burns through every rational thought. "Nash, I need you. Now."

Chapter

Fifteen

CASEY

Nash turns on me, eyes blazing with an intensity that borders on feral.

“Casey, we’re on a goddamn freeway, vulnerable and in the open! And your scent is going to destroy me,” he growls. “I just need you to hold on a bit longer, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t think I can,” I snap back. The frantic fire in me consumes me. Tugging my seat belt off, I lean closer to him, my hand snaking out to trace the strong line of his thigh. I don’t care what he says or where we are; I just need him to touch me, to fuck me as hard as I desire him before I pass out.

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