Chapter 24 #2
“I messed up,” she whispered. “I lost control. All those people. I could have hurt them… and you.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head like she couldn’t say the rest. “I just—” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, as if she wasn’t speaking to him so much as trying to outrun her own thoughts.
“—I need to feel something else. Anything else.”
Her mouth crashed into his, desperate, insistent, her hands sliding beneath his jacket, lifting his shirt so her nails could scrape across his skin.
A shiver ran through him, but he didn’t pull her closer—not yet.
“I hate how tonight went.” Her hands fisted in his shirt, her forehead pressing to his like she was trying to steady herself. “I don’t want to be angry right now.” Another kiss, deep and urgent, like she could drown out the pain with him. “Please, Loch. I just… I need you.”
Lochlan’s breath hitched, his hands settling on her waist. She was unraveling in his arms, and he felt it—the ache of her fear and pain, the way she was trying to replace one feeling with another.
Her fingers twisted in his collar, pulling him closer, her hips rolling against him.
She kissed him again, tasting of desperation, of magic, of something so much deeper than the moment. Lochlan wanted her, wanted to lose himself in her—
But not like this.
Not when she was trying to disappear inside him, to hide in the heat between them.
“Please,” she begged, her voice thick with urgency. Her fingers framed his jaw, her mouth moving against his like she could will away all that she was feeling. “You’re so hard,” she whispered, rolling her hips again, chasing friction. “I need you.”
A sound rumbled deep inside him, primal and unbidden.
“I’m here for you,” he said, his tone rough and clipped with restraint. “But clothes stay on.”
She whined softly, but her legs widened, pressing herself so firmly against his lap that his vision flashed white.
He was going to come in seconds, and he couldn’t find the nerve to care.
She was sexy and stunning and Lochlan wanted to be lost in her as much as she seemed lost in the moment.
If this was what she needed, he’d give it to her—without letting things go too far.
His hands moved under her skirt, gripping her ass and guiding her movements, amplifying the friction that had her gasping.
“Chase that feeling, love,” he murmured. “Use me all you want.”
He was so hard it bordered on painful, the pressure dizzying. As her hips rocked into his, their bodies aligned just enough for him to slip partially free from the grip of his waistband.
Her eyes fluttered closed, breath catching. He swore he could feel her heat through the damp fabric, the tip of him exposed and pressing against it, straining for more.
“Loch,” she moaned, her rhythm faltering as tension built in her body.
He gripped the back of her head with one hand, firm but careful, anchoring her. His other hand slid up her thigh, finding the swell of her. His thumb pressed against her through the damp fabric, moving in slow, deliberate circles.
“Let me have it,” he rasped, his voice ragged and thick. “Make a mess of me.”
“Fuck-fuck-fuck,” she panted roughly against his mouth, her body jerking as waves of pleasure crashed through her.
Lochlan braced his feet against the floor of the truck, his own release surging violently through him, spilling hot against his stomach, pressed between him and her.
Nia let out a breathless sigh, rolling her hips again, teasing him until he groaned and gripped her firmly, stilling her movements. The overstimulation made him shudder, and she seemed to relish it, her smile soft and satisfied.
Their gazes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade, leaving only the quiet intimacy between them. Soft smiles lingered as the aftershocks ebbed, heat and tension giving way to hazy warmth.
A sharp knock shattered the moment.
Rap-rap-rap.
A harsh flashlight beam cut through the fogged windows, cutting through the moment of intimacy like a blade.
“Park Ranger,” a gruff voice called through the darkness. “You can’t park here.”
Nia’s wide eyes darted to Lochlan’s as her lips curved into a mischievous smile. A laugh bubbled from her as she turned to the fogged glass, drawing a quick rune with her fingertip. She whispered softly, her voice lilting with magic:
“Away you go, nothing to see,
Turn your back and let us be.”
The rune glowed faintly, its light casting soft shadows across the truck’s interior.
Outside, the ranger’s silhouette hesitated, his flashlight beam hovering uncertainly.
Then he turned, his steps slow but steady as he wandered off into the shadows, the flashlight bobbing until it disappeared completely.
A glint of triumph in her eyes, Nia turned back to Lochlan and kissed him lightly, her lips lingering just long enough to tease. “We should go. Someone else might find us.”
“I need to get you home,” Lochlan said, his voice gentler now. “You haven’t eaten, and you used a lot of magic tonight.”
Her smirk softened, but something flickered across her face—brief but unmistakable. She looked down at her lap, her fingers toying with the hem of her skirt.
“Someone could have been hurt,” she said quietly. “You could have been hurt.”
The contrast between her words and the moment they’d just shared struck Lochlan like a fist to his chest. Her pain was palpable, and he couldn’t let it sit there.
Lochlan reached out, brushing her hair gently away from her face. “It was an accident,” he said softly. “And supernaturals heal fast.”
Her head shot up, eyes wide with worry, a deep crease etched between her brows.
“At least you made the night exciting. They probably would’ve preferred a flower attack over our original plan.”
Nia’s lips twitched, then she rolled her eyes, her worry seeming to ease slightly. “Seeing you naked would have been far better,” she muttered.
“There’s always next time,” he said lightly. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Something in her expression softened, the tension in her shoulders ebbing. “Yes, love,” she teased, warmth threading through her voice as she tossed his own endearment back at him. The word settled over him like a spell, quiet and powerful.
Love.
He held on to that possibility all the way home. As he made her chicken Alfredo with pasta and warm bread and tucked her into bed, the memory of her voice wrapped around him like magic, a wicked hope whispering of forever.