Chapter 151
Chapter 151
Cora--
The drive back to the pack house feels like it’s taking a decade. Landon is driving, of course, because he’s decided that the one defensive driving class he took in college makes him more qualified than me. I think that’s bullshit. It’s clearly something about control.
“Of course it’s about control, kitten. If you’re the one driving, I’m not the one keeping you safe. Simple as that. This is what feels right. Plus, if you were driving, I couldn’t safely do this.” At the end, Landon slides his hand up from where he had it resting on my knee until he’s cupping me. I can’t stop my sharp inhale, especially when he presses with the heel of his hand just hard enough directly where my clit is pounding away under my “boss bitch” slacks.
I dressed to impress for the meeting with James in a cream dress shirt, a navy pantsuit, and nude Louboutins, but Landon has me wanting to start popping buttons on my new favorite outfit. I’m wearing roughly two months of rent for my old apartment’s worth of clothing right now and it’s all starting to feel dangerously disposable. I know for a fact that Landon could rip it like tissue paper, or shred it to scraps with his claws half-shifted. I have to viciously repress the images that immediately pop into my head of him doing just that. I’m lucky he’s driving, or he would already have picked up on the short flickers of fantasy.
I’m desperately trying to sound unaffected when I reply, but we both know I’m not fooling anyone. I wouldn’t have fooled Landon with my act even before we had the stupid twin telepathy. Damn shifter noses. “Safe driving means you have both hands on the wheel, preferably at ten and two. This is not that.”
His resulting laugh is low and intimate. “Safe is always relative, kitten. This is safer than trying to make your climax time up with a red light. I’m good, but maybe not that good yet.”
The eye roll comes without effort this time. “Humble as always, pookie.”
Landon shudders, but then pauses with a smirk. “It’s like you don’t even want those brownie points.”
That gives me pause, but when in doubt brazen it out. “Considering I still have no idea what they would get me…?” I leave the sentence hanging in hopes that he’ll enlighten me.
He shrugs in a passing attempt of nonchalance. “Orgasms, mostly.”
Damn. He does know how to negotiate. But then, so do I. “You like giving me lots of orgasms anyway. Who’s to say I even need brownie points?”
Weirdly, Landon blushes a bit as he grins back at me for a second before he breaks eye contact to change lanes. It’s strange to see someone look smug and embarrassed at the same time. “I had the misfortune of hearing Logan bragging about his ‘high score’ with Emory. I was hoping to top it.”
It takes me a long moment to figure out what he even means. When I finally do, I’m torn between laughing and being grossed out. “That’s absolutely unhinged, Landon.” I can feel my nose crinkling as I say it, even as I also have to fight a smile.
He shrugs as he makes the turn down the drive toward the pack house. “Maybe, but you still want to do it. Don’t even try to lie about it.” He’s trying to look like he’s concentrating on his driving, but he knows this land better than he knows his own face. He could probably drive it without looking. I also happen to notice his nostrils flickering as he sucks down the scent of my arousal like an addict.
I try hard not to think about what the inside of this car must smell like, especially as Landon pulls up to the gate and rolls down the window. The guard standing in the gate house wanders over, clearly wondering why Landon stopped instead of getting waved through as usual. His eyebrows creep higher and higher as he gets close enough to smell the results of my and Landon’s conversation. “What can I do for you, Beta?”
Landon’s grin is full of mischief, and I feel the dip in my belly as I frantically wonder what he’s about to pull. “Hey Dev. I just want you to pick a number. Something between nine and twenty.” Twenty?! What the fuck, Landon? Hell no!
Dev squints at us suspiciously, especially when Landon pats my thigh in a way that’s probably supposed to be comforting. “Uhh… fifteen seems like a good number.”
All the blood drains from my face as Landon squeezes my thigh, clearly taking up the challenge. “That it does, Dev. It really does.”
He rolls the window up on the confused guard and finally drives through the gate. “You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think fifteen is going to happen.”
Landon parks the car and turns to me. “Always the pessimist, kitten. Haven’t you heard that quote about shooting for the moon and getting the stars? Even if we don’t get you to fifteen, we’ll have so much fun trying!”
I’m so fucked.