This, at least, she’d been able to do for herself.
James was so tense beside her, he seemed about to erupt into violence at the drop of a hat. She braced herself for him to demand the name of the man who touched her without permission, or to throw out threats that he may or may not even plan on following through with.
But he surprised her again. “Did you hurt him?”
She sure as hell hoped so. “He’ll be singing soprano for a few hours, at least.”
“Good.” And that was that. His thumb continued those circles that both soothed and made her skin prickle.
She waited, but he didn’t seem inclined to ask any more questions. The man never stopped surprising her. She wasn’t sure what she thought about that. Letting the subject drop was fine with her, though, because she was more interested in the other half of their bargain than she was with treading over things she couldn’t change and would rather not think about. “Make me forget for a while, James. Please.”
How could he resist her?
James couldn’t. He might be seeing red and determined to figure out who the fuck “got handsy” with her so he could go rip the man to pieces, but the desire for her undercut all that. She needed him. That’s why he was here tonight, and that was a gift so priceless, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t deserve it.
Because there was no way he wouldn’t fuck this up.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with everything he had. She smelled like summer, even in late November, a reminder that this wasn’t forever and he’d be a damn fool to waste a single second. He ran a hand down her spine, fitting her against him, letting her feel exactly how much he wanted her.
Christ, he wanted her.
She arched against him, soft in all the ways he was hard, offering herself to whatever he had in mind. To have this woman, who was all fiery passion and strength, yield to him, was enough to make his head spin. It made him want to be a better man, a man who might deserve such a woman. It was a pipe dream, a stupid fucking thought, but he couldn’t shake it.
James backed them around his car and yanked open the passenger seat. He’d never been so happy that he’d gone with a ’70 Chevelle rather than the ’67 Camaro he’d had his eye on all those years ago. He guided her into the backseat and followed her in. It wasn’t enough space, but with the residual heat from their drive down here, it was better than the cold outside the car.
He kissed her again, but he didn’t stop at her mouth. Instead, he worked his way over her neck, pausing there to savor the softness of her skin as she quivered against him. A quick yank on the shoulders of her dress exposed her bra, a sheer lace thing that was completely at odds with the rest of her getup. This was the true Carrigan, the woman who loved pretty things and dressed herself to the nines. “Get this fucking thing off.” He pulled again, sliding it down her body. She lifted her hips to help him, jerking her arms out of the dress and kicking it off.
Then there was only her, a few scraps of cloth all that were between his hands and mouth, and her body. “Christ, lovely.” Faced with the fact this was actually happening was like hitting a brick wall. He wanted her. Fuck, he wanted her so much it was everything he could do not to rip those panties from her body and fall on her like a starving animal. The last time—the only time—he’d surrounded himself with her had been the closest he’d come to losing himself.
But this wasn’t about him.
He’d promised to help her forget, and going from zero to sixty in five seconds flat wasn’t going to cut it. James blew out a long breath, fighting for control. He’d barely touched her and he was teetering on the edge. There had to be a better way to go about this, because he didn’t trust himself.
The answer hit him right between the eyes. He sat back, shifting them around so she lay on the seat and he took the space between her spread thighs. There wasn’t a ton of room, but that hand’s width of space between their bodies would have to be enough. She lifted her head, looking down her body at him. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but the flash of her green eyes was enough. His cock was so hard, it was a wonder he could string two thoughts together. “Take your bra off.”
She opened her mouth, and then seemed to reconsider. “James—”
“We’re doing this my way or not at all. Choose.”
“Fine,” she snapped. But her movements were slow and steady as she arched her back and reached beneath herself to unhook her bra. Then she lifted her arms and pulled it off slowly, giving him a tease before she finally dropped it onto the floorboard.