The car was quiet — too quiet — except for the blood dripping from Rafe’s hand onto the steering wheel.

You gripped your seatbelt tighter, eyes darting between his clenched jaw and the cracked rearview mirror. “Rafe, you’re bleeding—”

“I’m fine.” He cut you off like he was used to pain. Maybe he was.

“But you’re not—”

“I said I’m fine, baby.” He looked at you, finally, and that look? It shut you right up. Not because it was angry.

Because it was wild.

Dark, glittering eyes. That slight smirk on his lips. He looked like a man on the edge — and loving it.

“You scared?” he asked, glancing back at the road, his voice suddenly lower. Almost playful.

You swallowed. “A little.”

He laughed softly, licking blood off his lip. “Good. Means you’re sane.”

“Rafe, what the hell just happened back there?”

“I handled it.” His hand slid off the wheel and landed on your thigh. Tight grip. Hot fingers. “He shouldn’t have touched you.”

Your heart raced. “You beat a guy unconscious.”

“He grabbed your ass.” He squeezed your thigh harder, voice dangerously soft. “You think I’m gonna let some low-life even breathe in your direction without paying for it?”

You didn’t answer.

Because you liked it. Too much.

Rafe glanced at you again. And he saw it.

That hunger in your eyes. The flush in your cheeks. The way you pressed your legs together.

He smirked. “You like it when I lose control for you, don’t you?”

You didn’t deny it.

His hand slid a little higher, stroking lazy circles over your skin as he kept his eyes on the road. “You’ve always been trouble, baby. Sweet little smile, soft little voice, but you like your men dangerous, don’t you?”

You bit your lip.

He growled. Actually growled.

“You keep doing that,” he warned, “and I’m pulling over and f*cking you in this seat. Don’t care who sees.”

Your breath caught. “You wouldn’t.”

He looked at you. “I would.”

He drove for another mile in silence. Just heavy breathing, your hand in his, and the echo of your own heart in your ears.

Then he pulled into a gas station. Still covered in blood. Still looking like sin on legs.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple like you weren’t both wanted by half the county.

You watched him go inside. Broken knuckles. Wild grin. A man who would kill for you without hesitation…

…and buy you your favorite candy five minutes later.

Rafe came back out, tossed you a soda and a Twix bar, and started the engine like nothing happened.

“You still scared, sweetheart?”

You stared at him. “A little.”

He leaned in, kissed you like he was starving, and whispered against your lips:

“Good. Means you need me.”