Page 114 of Full Throttle

“No.”

Their faces were close, so close that he could smell her lip balm. Regret was a knot in his throat. God, he wanted to kiss her. How to explain that she was already Jules in his head? How to explain that she was sweetheart, mon coeur, ya qamar, along with a million other things he couldn’t say?

“We shouldn’t,” Dominic murmured. “You’re upset.”

She raised her face. “I want to.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Please,” Juliette whispered, and he would have promised her anything that morning. Torn his raw and still-beating heart out of his chest, if she’d asked it. “Make me forget. I want this, Dom. I want you.”

She pushed him against the dresser. Dominic half stumbled, caught by surprise, although he couldn’t deny that it sparked something in him. A low flame of desire. Had she ever been this demanding with him? He was kissing her now, and she tasted like summer apples, and a fresh rush of blood went through him, leaving him dizzy and light-headed.

Dominic clung to the scraps of his sanity. “Someone could walk in.”

“Does it matter?” Her hand drifted lower. “The whole world already knows.”

Her hands roamed under his shirt. Dominic closed his eyes. He was unbearably hard, his cock straining against his trousers. He’d spent every night trying desperately to forget this, only to realize now that it was pointless.

His body remembered. It would never forget.

“I don’t know if—” Dominic hissed out a breath. “Fuck.”

Her hand fisted his cock. For a terrible moment, he thought he might lose control right there; his body was tense, his blood singing with months of pent-up frustration. One more thing was going to send him over the edge.

Juliette held his gaze. Her hand worked up his shaft with agonizing slowness.

“Please,” Juliette murmured. “I need this. I need…”

She didn’t need to say it; Dominic understood. Every part of his body was ablaze, hot blood pumping through his veins. The car was careening toward the boards. They both knew how it would end. And in that moment, Dominic no longer cared if anyone found them, heard them, saw them. He needed her. Now.

“Use me.” Dominic’s voice was hoarse. “However you need. Take whatever you want.” It was already hers anyway.

Something like relief flickered, then Juliette was kissing him. Hard. Dominic kissed her back with equal force, tongues tangling together, a war of metal and blood. She pushed Dominic to his knees and he went gladly, his mouth finding her stomach. Skimming her bare thighs. He pushed her skirt up and Juliette moaned, the sound reverberating straight down his cock.

Dominic pushed her thong down. She was slick and ready, and he bit back a moan.

God, this girl was going to kill him.

Dominic buried his head between her thighs. There was no teasing this time, no drawn-out foreplay; only the hard, unrelenting lash of his tongue. He slipped two fingers inside her, and Juliette moaned, her hand fisting in his hair. His fingers pumped faster. Harder. Dominic feasted like he meant it, like he might die if he stopped. His heart was pounding so fast that it was almost painful.

“Hastings—” Juliette’s breath was short. “I can’t—I’m going to—”

“Good girl,” Dominic murmured. “Let go.”

The words sent Juliette over the edge.

She came with a gasp, her fingers pulling sharply at his hair. She looked like a blazing star, Dominic thought helplessly, like some ethereal creature that should shy from his touch. He had the oddest urge to look away.

I’m better alone.

Dominic pressed a kiss to her shaking legs, his heart pounding. He withdrew his trembling fingers.

This means nothing. I can make it mean nothing.

The words felt hollow. Juliette reached for his trousers.

“Wait,” Dominic said.