He rested both hands on top of the steering wheel, palms and fingers slippery wet against the leather, grappling for control. What the hell was he doing? Getting in too deep, his mind was quick to reply.

Simultaneously, they turned and looked at each other.

He didn’t know who moved first. Whatever the case, he was kissing her, his hands cupping her wet cheeks, his fingers tangling in the soaking strands of her hair. He crushed her to him, swallowing her moan into his mouth, frustrated by the uncomfortable gear stick between them. God, he felt like he was back in high school again, making out in the front seat of his grandmother’s cramped Honda. Only she wasn’t some horny teenager. And he wasn’t some fumbling, desperate boy. Well, maybe he was desperate. He had to be. Why else was he so damned attracted to her? A lycan? One overexcited nip from her and it all ended. At least for him. Like playing with fire. And even that knowledge couldn’t make him stop, couldn’t keep him from delving his tongue deeper into her mouth.

Her little mewling sounds drove him wild and he strained against her, hungry to get his hands and mouth on the soft mounds crushing into his chest.

The sound of a horn startled them and sent them flying apart. He looked wildly about, realizing he had caused a minor traffic jam.

A woman in a Cadillac was stopped halfway in the road, halfway in the driveway, honking madly on her horn. A line of cars honked behind her, all unable to move forward.

Ignoring the way his hands shook, he shifted the gear stick and sped off. His tires locked for a moment on the wet road, sending his Jeep into a fishtail. Claire gasped beside him until he gained control of the vehicle.

He didn’t speak until they pulled up in front of her apartment a minute later. “I thought we could dry off and you could get the things you wanted.”

At that precise moment the aroma of melted cheese and rich marinara sauce hit him in full, tantalizing force, reminding him of what he had in the backseat.

“What’s that smell?” Apparently, Claire hadn’t missed it either.

“Our lunch.”