Page 43 of Chasing Paradise

He wasted no time, his fingers sliding into my pants, then under the waistband of my panties, slipping down to tease up my cleft.

“So wet for me, duchess,” he murmured as his thumb found my clit at the same time two of his fingers slid inside me, making a needy moan escape me.

A growling sound moved through Wick as my walls tightened around his fingers.

There was no thinking then, just feeling, as his fingers thrust and his thumb swiped.

My soft sighs grew to deep moans as he drove me up, up, up, then sent me right to the edge.

Wick’s free hand suddenly moved, grabbing the back of my neck and forcing my face tightly against his shoulder, muffling my cries as the orgasm crashed through me, the waves pulling me under over and over.

I was barely able to suck in a breath afterward before Wick’s fingers were out of my pants.

Just in time for Marco’s door to open again.

Something was tossed to the passenger seat, then the door was slamming, and we were pulling off, the music once again coursing through the speakers.

By the time the car started bouncing on the road once again, I had finally come back to my senses.

Meaning I realized what an epic screw-up that was.

I shot off of Wick’s lap, moving against the opposite door and discreetly—I hoped—buttoning up my pants once again.

It was then, looking backward, that I realized where we’d been stopped.

At the edge of a little town.

“We stopped at a town? Why didn’t you tell me?” There could have been coffee there! One last actual bathroom stop before we took to peeing behind bushes again.

“You were… sleeping,” Wick said, making me glance over. Just in time to see him slip his fingers into his mouth, tasting me.

If I were a blushing woman, I’d have been crimson right then.

Thankfully, I wasn’t. So I could offer him a convincing glower as I crossed my arms.

“Marco stopped to get you a backpack with some supplies,” Wick said, unbothered by my attitude as he reached around the front seat to grab the bag off the passenger seat.

“Hey, stop touching my stuff,” I grumbled, grabbing my duffle from him as he started to rifle through it.

“This is all you packed?” he asked, brows pinching as he kept digging even as I tried to pull it away from him.

“I was supposed to be chasing a skip. In the States. Where there are stores around for anything I might need, not stranded on an island or trekking through the rainforest. Maybe ifsomeonehad told me we were hitting up a town, I could have stopped to stock up.”

“Who are you kidding? You would have spent the whole time trying to track down a cup of coffee.”

“And you should have allowed me to. You would be much more tolerable if I were caffeinated.”

To that, Wick’s lips twitched, and I didn’t like the sparkle in his eyes.

“Yeah, because clearlysleepdoesn’t fix your mood.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t very goodsleep.”

It was great ‘sleep,’ and we both knew it. But I’d be damned if I admitted it out loud.

I needed to keep a wall up between us.

Partly because he was my skip. But there was also the whole lying-to-me thing. And, most egregious of all, his one-man mission to keep me uncaffeinated.

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