Page 126 of Knot So Fast
But surprisingly, Luke is there, having just emerged from the building across the street. He takes in the situation with one glance and immediately shifts into protective mode.
"Auren! Perfect timing," he calls out cheerfully, moving to intercept. "How was dinner?"
He positions himself between her and the cameras with practiced ease, creating a human shield as he guides her toward the car. "Go ahead and get in," he tells her quietly. "I'll run interference."
She squeezes my hand once before sliding into the backseat, the door closing with expensive finality. The photographers are still shooting, but Luke's bulk blocks most of their angles.
"Want a ride?" I offer, though I can guess his answer.
He laughs, loud enough for the photographers to hear. "Nah, I ain't getting caught in whatever frisky things you're gonna do in that car. I know that look, Wolfe."
I smirk, very aware the paparazzi are recording every word. Let them. Let tomorrow's headlines speculate about what exactly the champion and his Omega get up to after romantic dinners.
"Thanks for not cockblocking me," I tell Luke, patting his shoulder with a wink. "See you tomorrow."
"Try to get some actual sleep," he calls after me as I slide into the car. "We've got quali tomorrow!"
The door closes, and I tap the privacy screen. Our driver knows the routine—straight home, no stops, no interruptions. The tinted glass turns the Barcelona streets into impressionist paintings, all blurred lights and suggested shapes.
Auren kisses me like a checkered flag—victorious and final and absolutely certain. When she finally pulls back, we're both breathing hard, and there are things that need to be said.
"About knotting," she starts, and I can see her gathering courage. "About marks, about control. I want to take it slow,but... I'm approving of those things. When the timing is right. When it feels like it means something more than just biology."
"Of course," I agree immediately, though my Alpha instincts are doing victory laps at the implication. "We go at your pace. Always. And I'll make sure the others are aware of your boundaries, what you're comfortable with."
She nods, relief visible in her expression. Then that wicked grin returns, the one that means trouble in the best possible way.
"But right now," she continues, her voice dropping to something that makes my pulse spike, "I need to at least enjoy a ride from you."
She's definitely tipsy, just enough to lower inhibitions without affecting coordination. She leans in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispers, "Oh, I can give you a ride, my Wolf."
The promise in her voice, the heat in her eyes, the way she's already shifting to straddle my lap despite the confines of the car—I couldn't be more excited for the thrill to come.
TRAFFIC UPON THE HORIZON
~AUREN~
They say adrenaline is the best drug, but whoever said that never tried lust in a gridlocked car with a four-time World Champion grinning like he’s already finished first.
I don’t even wait for the driver to merge back into the traffic hell outside the restaurant. My hand flicks off the seatbelt and I pivot, knees on the leather seat, climbing over the console with the same slow, deliberate control that’s made me infamous in turn six at Spa. The cabin is dark but for the neon-red glow of the city bleeding through the privacy glass, and the world outside might as well be on another planet.
I straddle Lachlan’s lap, dress riding up dangerously high, and press down until I can feel the solid length of him already hard beneath me. I smirk.
He lets out a low whistle, hands bracing on my hips, not helping but definitely not stopping me either.
“Well, well,” he murmurs, that velvet voice wrapping around my pulse like a lasso, “my little partner in crime is going to keep her word, huh?”
I lean in, putting my mouth at his ear. “You think I’d let you beat me in anything?”
He grins, teeth catching the light, eyes burning neon through the dark. “I think you want to.”
He thinks he’s in control.
It’s cute, honestly.
I drag my tongue along his jaw, slow and wet, pausing at the hinge to bite down just hard enough to make him twitch. His hands tighten reflexively on my waist, and I feel the tremor roll through his body.
“Oh, Sugar,” he says, voice almost a growl now, “you have no idea what you’re about to start.”
