Page 96 of Bound in Ashes

“I hope you don’t mind me stopping here. I don’t think we have to worry about a tractor trailer barreling down the road and crashing into us,” I said.

“Ha, fucking ha,” Jack said, his voice quiet.

“What is your problem?” I said, glaring at Jack.

“Why would I have a problem, Asia?” he said.

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked you, Jackson,” I said.

He blanked, then hopped out of the truck and slammed the door so hard, the frame rattled.

I got out, too, but closed the door gently.

“Use your words, Jackson,” I said.

He growled.

Literally growled, then stopped in front of me.

“No,” he said.

His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, the tension in his hold matching the fire in his eyes.

I glared at him, trying to yank my hand away.

He laughed, his grip not loosening a millimeter.

My face flamed with rage.

At him.

At the truth.

He was in control here.

Even worse, I needed him.

And I didn’t hate it.

Still tried to fight it anyway.

“Jack, you don’t get to do⁠—”

I gasped when he pushed me back against the truck. I reached back to balance myself, my fingers grabbing at the slick metal, the warmth of the hood soothing and singing.

He opened my pants and yanked them down, then fumbled with his own buckle. The broad head of his cock pressed against me, hot and insistent. Then he thrust.

Not gently.

Not carefully.

But the sharp sting of his intrusion was exactly what I needed.

Because the world slipped away.

No zombies.

No sheriff.