Page 4 of Knot So Lucky
"So you're going to gather your fucking balls," he continues, and there's a ghost of a smirk on his lips now despite the intensity in his eyes, "walk back in there, fix that shit, and we can fuck it outlater."
The promise in that last word makes heat pool low in my belly, makes my suppressants work overtime to keep my scent from giving away just how much I want exactly that.
Fuck it out later…god…fucking Luca Thorne…
The words echoed through every cell in my body, rattling around inside my skull until I could taste the promise of them: fuck it out later. My pulse thumped so hard in my throat I thought it might burst through my skin. The idea of Luca, towering over me, those tattooed arms braced on either side of my head, all that hard, ruthless muscle pressing me into the nearest surface—it was enough to make me shudder, even as cold rain slithered down my spine.
He’d be the kind of lover who took what he wanted—ruthless, thorough, the opposite of gentle—but demanding my surrender, not just my body but whatever mindfuck was left of my soul.
The worst part was I didn’t even care about the consequences, not in that second.
The world could watch us through a thousand cameras, the whole damn pit crew could be standing three feet away, and I’d still want him to mark me, fuck me, claim me in some way I’d never let anyone else. I wanted it so bad I could taste copper on my tongue and feel myself shaking with the need to make it real. I wanted to give in, slide my hands under his soaked shirt, and find every inch of that lethal, beautiful body, map out the tattoos with my teeth, and see if he’d let me bite back.
My body wanted to kneel, to offer, to bend until I broke.
My mind wanted to fight him to the death.
My soul wanted both at the same time.
I glare at him, even though what I really want to do is kiss him again, climb him like a tree, let him pin me against this wall, and finish what we started.
Instead, I poke him hard in the chest, relishing the way his eyes widen slightly at my audacity.
"I don't take shit from anyone," I hiss, putting every ounce of venom I can muster into the words. "And Iespeciallyain't taking your cock in my ass, fucker."
For a second, he just stares at me.
Then he throws his head back andlaughs—a real, genuine laugh that transforms his face from intimidating Alpha to something dangerously appealing.
"Noted," he says, still grinning, and the look in his eyes is pure wicked promise. "Good thing you've got another hole that would milk me up real nice, though."
The absoluteaudacity?—
Heat floods my face as I realize he absolutely knows. Not just that I'm female, but he's thinking about it, imagining it, probably has been imagining it since the moment he figured out my secret.
I turn on my heel and stomp back toward the paddock entrance, my boots splashing through puddles with more force than strictly necessary.
"Fuck you, Thorne!" I call back without turning around.
His laugh follows me through the rain, rich and warm and infuriatingly sexy.
"That's what I'm hoping for, Lane!"
And despite everything—despite the fear coiled tight in my chest, knowing this could end my career before it even begins, and the fact that I should be running in the opposite direction—I feel my lips curve into a smile I can't quite suppress.
Because the man who's been my competitor virtually, the one who's pushed me harder than anyone else ever has, the one whose scent makes my Omega sing in ways I've never experienced before...
He just clocked my secret.
And deep down, in a place I'm not ready to examine too closely, I realize something that should terrify me but instead feels like relief:
I actually might not give a damn.
The rain continues to pour as I make my way back to the garage, my heart pounding with something that might be fear but feels a hell of a lot like anticipation.
Behind me, I can still feel Luca's eyes on my back, watching, waiting,wanting.
And for the first time in my life, I'm not running from someone who sees me.
