My eyes flickered down to his mouth. That hard, nasty mouth that had never been afraid to call me out.

“You know what you need, Miss Martin?” he said, his tone guttural with a promise that sent shivers over my back. “You need someone to take you in hand and put you in your fucking place. You need someone to take control, who won’t let you walk all over them.”

If he kept talking like that, I was going to end up with my legs splayed around him again in desperation. I squirmed in my seat, trying not to think of the myriad of ways he could take control right here and now.

Something like a smile twisted his mouth, dangerous and mean. “You need someone to punish you properly, fuck you good, and care about you enough not to let you hang out with friends who will stab you in the back the first chance they get.”

I was torn in two. On one side, I didn’t need that from them or anybody. I was perfectly fine. I had my life under control. I knew what I wanted.

On the other side, I wanted to lose control. I wanted to feel cared about and looked after. I wanted someone who could take command and wasn’t afraid to keep it. Someone I could lose myself in, let go, and be vulnerable with.

“Lucas…”

But he didn’t want to hear any more excuses.

“We’re not your pawns,” he said. “And we’ll do whatever we damn well please, including fuck who we want.”

He put the car in reverse and hooked his arm over the back of the seat as he pulled out of the field. He cranked the radio up, loud enough for it to be obvious he didn’t want to hear another word from me.

I grit my teeth. My stomach felt like a raging ocean was inside it, swirling and crashing as I dwelled on his words. He dared accuse me of only wanting their attention, like I was some spoiled child?

I absolutely hated it.

A crowd had gathered around the Hellcat as we approached the starting line. Alex was on the phone, pacing and yelling, his face bright red with fury. A sick feeling of trepidation slithered around inside me when I caught the look on his face — hateful, furious, almost murderous.

Lucas parked, and the moment he got out of the car, Manson was there, excitedly throwing his arms around him. Jason ran up to rub his head with a huge grin on his face as he said, “Fuck yes, dude, that was sick!”

Damn it, I never should have gotten into the car. My panties were damp and my clit was pulsing, the living embodiment of hot and bothered. I was so frustrated, so angry.

And it all was made so much worse by the fact that Lucas was right.

I jumped as the passenger door opened, and Vincent leaned down, a grin on his face. “I hope Lucas wasn’t too rough with you.”