Barry didn’t move right away.
His hands rested on her hips, holding her in place. His face was right next to hers, so close she could feel the rough brush of his stubble when he finally spoke.
“You should be.”
His voice was low, deep, and full of heat.
Lucy’s lips parted. But she didn’t flinch. She didn't pull back. She met his eyes in the rearview mirror. Fire. Rage. And something else flickering beneath it.
She felt his fingers tighten slightly on her waist. Not in anger this time. In control. In warning. In want.
The air in the car grew heavy. Hot.
His other hand moved up, brushing her wild hair away from her face, slowly. Gently. The same hand that had just punished her now moved like it wanted to memorize her.
“You think you’re brave?” he whispered.
“I think I’m not yours to
