“Here?” I breathe, shocked.

“Yes. I want you. Now.”

I can’t believe she’s said that. “Mrs. Grey, how very brazen.” I scan our environs. We’re well hidden. There’s no one here. We won’t be seen. We can do this. My hunger for her goes into overdrive. I tighten my grip on her hair, holding her where I want her, and kiss her again. Harder. Deeper. Taking. Taking. More and more.

My other hand skims again down her body to her thigh.

She grips my hair.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing a skirt.” My hand travels up her thigh. She wriggles on top of me.

Ah!

“Keep still,” I grunt, tightening my grasp on her hair at the nape.

She’s going to unman me.

I cup her through her lace panties; they’re damp already.

Oh, baby.

With my thumb, I circle her clitoris, once, twice, and she groans, her body quivering at my touch. “Still,” I whisper, and capture her lips with mine while my thumb teases the swollen bud beneath the dewy lace. I move the material aside and sink two fingers inside her.

She groans and tips her hips toward my hand in greeting.

Oh, my greedy girl.

“Please,” she whispers.

“Oh. You’re so ready,” I murmur in appreciation, and slowly slide my fingers in. And out. And in. And out. And in. “Do car chases turn you on?”

“You turn me on.”

Her words feed my hunger, and I withdraw my hand and slide my arm beneath her knees and lift her so she’s fully on my lap, facing the windshield.

She gasps. But she starts grinding down on me.

I groan. “Place your legs either side of mine,” I order, and run my hands down her outer thighs, then back up, yanking her skirt out of the way. “Hands on my knees, baby. Lean forward, lift that glorious ass in the air. Mind your head.” She raises her beautiful behind and I unzip my jeans, freeing my heavy cock. Putting one arm around her waist, with my other hand I tug her panties sideways and, lifting my hips, force her down and thrust balls-deep inside her in one swift move.

My breath whistles through my lips. Yes!

“Ah,” Ana cries out for anyone to hear, and she grinds down on me.

I groan, teeth clenched. She feels out of this world. I grasp her jaw and lean her back against me and angle her head so I can kiss her throat. Grabbing her hip with my other hand to keep her steady, I move into her, and I’m in deep. She pushes up and starts to ride me. Hard. Fast. Frantic.

Ah… I bite down on her earlobe.

She moans and moves and together we set a heady, desperate pace.

Her rising and falling. Me, bucking into her.

I move my fingers to her clitoris and start to tease her through her panties.

Ana makes a garbled cry, and the sound does nothing for my restraint.

Shit. I’m going to come. “Be. Quick,” I rasp in her ear. “We need to do this quick, Ana.”

Sweat beads on my brow, and I increase the pressure on her clitoris, circling around and around with my fingers.

“Oh,” Ana cries.

“Come on, baby. I want to hear you.”

We move. And move. And then I feel her. Building. Ready.

Oh, thank God. I slam into her once more and she tips her head back on my shoulder so she’s facing the roof of the car.

“Yes!” I grind out between my teeth and she comes. Loudly.

“Oh, Ana.” I wrap her in my arms and climax deep inside her.

When I return to reality, my head is bent against hers, and she’s limp on top of me. I run my nose along her jaw and kiss her throat, her cheek, and her temple. “Tension relieved, Mrs. Grey?” I tug her earlobe. She whimpers, in a good way, and I smile. That’s a great sound. “Certainly helped with mine,” I murmur, and shift her forward, withdrawing from her. “Lost your voice?”

“Yes,” she breathes.

“Well, aren’t you the wanton creature? I had no idea you were such an exhibitionist.”

She sits up immediately, watchful and wary. Her fatigue, a memory. “No one’s watching, are they?” She scours the parking lot.

“Do you think I’d let anyone watch my wife come?” I stroke my hand down her back and she calms, turning around to give me a sweet playful smile.

“Car sex!” she exclaims, and her eyes flare with a sense of achievement, I think.

I grin. Yes. It’s a first for me, too, Ana. I tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s head back. I’ll drive.” Leaning forward, I open the car door, and Ana clambers off my lap so I can do up my fly.

When I’m back in the driver’s seat I call our security detail.

“Mr. Grey, it’s Ryan.”

“Where’s Sawyer?” I snap.

“At Escala.”

“And the Dodge?”

“I’m following the Dodge south on I-5.”

“How come Sawyer’s not with you?”

“He thought it better to wait at Escala once we saw her—”

“Her?” I gasp.

“Yes. The driver is a woman,” says Ryan. “I was going to follow her to see if we can ID her.”

“Stick with her.”

“Will do.”

I hang up and look at Ana.

“The driver of the Dodge is female?” She sounds shocked.

“So it would appear.” I have no idea who it might be. It can’t be Elena, and surely not Leila. Not after all the work that Flynn has put in with her. “Let’s get you home.”