Chapter 15 Losing Control
LOSING CONTROL
NEMO
“Three hours,” Baz mumbled, tapping the watch.
He and I sat on the mattress as the van sped down the road. There wasn’t an inch between us. Every time he pulled away, I leaned closer, making sure our shoulders were pressed together. That way, I could feel every move he made. He wasn’t getting away like he wanted.
The springs beneath us coiled as he adjusted, and I jerked my head around.
“Calm down,” Baz sighed. “Where am I going to go?” He waved around the back of the van. We were in a little metal cave barreling down concrete lanes with cars all around us.
Calm down? How? I knew he wanted to run. Even if it was improbable for him to get away, it put me on edge. On top of that, this highway road was loud. The wheels thumped, blurring out the sound of Baz’s heart rate. Which made it harder to anticipate his actions.
Baz slid gloved fingers between his lips, tracing the new shape of his tongue.
I watched him play with it. He stuck his tongue out and practiced moving the twin tips independently.
He wrapped each side around the other, twisting them together.
Even when he noticed I was watching, I couldn’t drag my eyes away.
“Is it gross?” Baz asked, sticking it out further for my inspection. Reaching up, I touched both tips with my fingers.
“Can you spread it?” I asked.
“Hmm, maybe I could move each side around something.” He grabbed my wrist and, with utmost concentration, tried to slide the tips around the sides of my finger. The skin between his eyebrows pinched as he struggled, tongue out.
No, gross is not what I'd call it. But … I could think of a few more tasks to make sure it wasn’t gross for the sake of being thorough.
Baz flattened his tongue against my finger, trying a different tactic. As he licked up, the tongue split on its own, sliding up either side of my skin. His eyes flicked up to me, and I jerked my hand back suddenly.
“It’s not gross.” I felt pressure low in my gut.
The dangerous kind. Was Baz always this tempting?
The springs of the mattress moved gently, Baz readjusting while I turned away and tried to get a hold of my body’s reaction.
But I realized my mistake immediately. He dove towards the back door the moment my attention wasn’t on him.
I turned and lunged, taking him down. I thoroughly covered his struggling body with mine.
“That was pointless,” I growled in his ear.
“Get off me,” he hissed. His leather gloves clawed at the metal floor, trying to pull himself out from under me and towards the doors.
“No,” I said, pressing my full weight on him to end his struggling. His attempt to thrash his way out from under me was only a squirm. My tongue slid over my lips as I felt him struggle. I couldn’t help but remember what he’d said before: you can fuck me.
“Are you purposely tempting me?” I asked. Last night my mates had been lined up on the bed. I remembered how he’d looked, naked next to Bree. Bare skin and asking if I was going to fuck him.
“No,” Baz laughed. “I’m trying to leave, not fuck.
” I balled my fists as I felt his body move beneath mine.
Yesterday, it was a lot easier telling him I wasn’t going to bend him over.
Today, I had no idea where that strength came from.
The logic of it was slipping away from me.
Which was odd. Yesterday, I was so sure of its importance.
Even in bed, when he looked at me with half-lidded eyes and dared me to try.
Leaning down, I inhaled the scent near his neck. It was stronger than before. I pulled it into my lungs, feeling them burn the same way they had in the fire at Verfallen. My head spun, and immediately I wanted another smell.
“What are you doing?” He asked in suspicion. I buried my nose into the nape of his neck and licked a thick line up. Baz stilled beneath me, his breath catching in surprise. My teeth ached with the need to bite him. The urge to finally claim him was overwhelming.
“Fuck,” I growled, peeling myself off him. My hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him onto the mattress beside me. Shoulder to shoulder again. “Just stay put,” I willed us both. What was going on? It felt like the time I’d had a chemically induced rut.
Baz rubbed the back of his neck, trying to remove the feel of my spit on him. But really, he was just rubbing it in. I closed my eyes and ground my teeth.
“What do you think seducing me will accomplish?” I asked him.
There were no windows in the back of the van, and it was still dark outside.
It made the space feel private. Made me strain to hear the small noises he made, even though the highway was stealing them from me.
If I were closer, I could hear it all, though.
I jerked away, realizing I’d been leaning in, causing him to shoot a confused look at me.
“Seducing you?” He asked.
Baz glanced at his watch, then, without warning, attempted a barrel roll towards the back. I didn’t need to cover his body with mine, but I did. I didn't need to drag him back to the mattress and hold him belly down, my hand gripping his neck, my hips digging into his ass. But I did that too.
“Stop,” I growled.
“I’m not trying to fuck you. I’m trying to get away,” he snapped.
As I kept holding him down, he looked at the watch Orson had given him.
The hours were counting down minute by minute as we sped towards the airport.
Baz was good at hiding his anxiety. It was subtle—the checking, the relentless need to keep trying to reach the door even though he knew that’d never work.
He was desperate to run away, and if I let him, we’d never see him again.
He’d always think he’d kill us, even without proof.
And if he wasn’t by my side, Damien would get him.
I just knew it. The man had been relentlessly on us, going to extremes just to guarantee the outcome he wanted. Which was to get Baz. Fuck that.
If Baz stayed through the change, then he’d realize he didn’t need to run.
He was already half-changed, and we were fine.
Couldn’t he see that? We could assess the damage of his changes and make a plan.
Can’t touch again? That’s fine, we build tolerances again.
Why was he hell-bent on the idea of killing us? It was psychological.
“You need a distraction.” The words fell from my mouth before I thought them through.
I grit my teeth and told myself to stop.
I didn’t want a desperate last-minute fuck before he changed.
Had it always been this hot in here? And his scent…
I wasn’t even inhaling him, and I felt dizzy. Why was I going into a rut?
“A distraction won’t help,” Baz huffed.
“This will.” I couldn’t resist him. Maybe it was because finally he’d said I could fuck him.
Maybe it’s because for a moment last night I thought I might.
Or maybe it was something else. The way he’d run his split tongue up my finger.
How our bodies had been touching for an hour now in the back of this dark little space.
How he kept forcing me to tackle him. Or how his smell was everywhere and making me dizzy, and his snake-like pupils slowly expanded each time he focused on me, like an excited predator getting ready to strike.
His skin was hot, and the longer I stayed pressed against him, the more I started to glisten with sweat and feel delirious.
I slipped my fingers into my mouth, getting them wet before sliding them down the back of his pants. My mind drifted back to the motel room, remembering him trapped under me as I fucked Bree and the way he’d come when my fingers slid into him.
“You’re going to finger me in the back of a moving van?” Baz laughed. He clenched up tight when wet fingertips brushed his hole.
“Relax.” I pressed my nose to his nape and inhaled, growing lightheaded.
The ache low in my stomach built. Had his smell always had this effect?
It was hard to remember in the heat of it.
My teeth ached. The need to mark him was overwhelming.
I pulled my hand out of his pants, grabbed the waist of his pants, and tugged.
“You broke the button,” Baz commented with a sigh.
Wasting no time, I pressed my teeth to the swell of Baz’s ass.
He’d lose his shit if his blood was out in the open, so I didn’t break the skin.
I dragged my tongue across the indented bite mark in one rough lick.
Baz relaxed, his breath growing heavy. He always liked my tongue.
I licked over the bite mark and then began to move my mouth closer to the crease in a long, wet lick. I gripped his ass, spread him open, and leaned in.
“Jesus,” Baz snapped. He was going to have to be slowly seduced into this. Wait, into what? I wasn’t supposed to fuck him. Not yet. I groaned, pulling away. He rolled on his back and gave me a pointed look. My eyes slid down, seeing his exposed cock. I had no self-control. I’d admit that.
“Shit,” I sighed, disappointed in myself. Didn’t stop me, though. I bent over and swallowed his cock.
Baz lost all his fight. He groaned, hips pressing up so he could feed more cock between my lips.
“Okay, I don’t mind a distraction,” he rasped.
I watched as his gloved hand hovered over my head, hesitating to touch me.
Finally, he pulled his hand away and grabbed the edge of the mattress instead.
If his touch was going to kill me, surely the long cock I let slide into my throat would be what did it, not a gloved hand on my head.