Lyla
I shifted in Ramsey's lap, my lips never leaving his as his hands gripped my waist. The leather seats of the car creaked beneath us with each movement. After the events at Golden Gates—the healing, the ferals, the revelations—we'd fallen into this strange, intense connection that neither of us could resist.
"We should be there in about two hours," Lenny called from the driver's seat, his voice deliberately loud.
We ignored him. I tangled my fingers in Ramsey's hair as he trailed kisses down my neck. The ring on my finger caught the sunlight streaming through the window, sending tiny rainbow prisms dancing across the car's interior.
His hand grabbed my breast, smoothening my peeking nipples with his thumb. I moan and move against him, loving how his tent was pressing hotly underneath me. Our lips met again, tangling in desperation as we suckled on each other as if there was nectar.
From the front seat came another, low, irritated growl.
