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“I would hate to discourage it.”

He looked at me before sliding his palms beneath the back of my blouse. His touch moved slowly over bare skin, giving me every opportunity to stop him. I did not. I pulled the blouse over my head and dropped it beside us.

For several seconds, he only stared.

I had worn a black lace bra because some part of me had anticipated this possibility. That same part apparently required verbal appreciation.

“If you say nothing, I’m putting the shirt back on.”

“I’m attempting to remember language.” His gaze lifted to mine. “You are incredible.”

That was much better.

I bent to kiss him, and his hands traced my back until his fingertips found the clasp of my bra. He paused there.

“May I?”

“You had better.”

The clasp released beneath his fingers. He eased one strap down my shoulder, then the other, watching my face as carefully as he watched every treacherous step he took. When his palm closed over my breast, pleasure cut through me so sharply that my magic burst outward in a bright gold wave.

The weeds around the station wagon lit up. The cracked speaker beside the hood sputtered to life and announced, in a cheerful mechanical voice, that refreshments were available at the concession stand.

Logan froze with his thumb resting over my nipple.

I stared at the speaker. “I am going to kill it.”

“Please don’t. I feel strangely supported.”

I laughed, but the sound broke when his thumb moved. He watched the reaction cross my face, then did it again, slower this time. I arched into his hand, pressing closer until the evidence of how much he wanted me was impossible to miss.

His control slipped for one hungry second. His other arm locked around my waist, and he kissed me with enough force to make the old car complain again. I rocked against him, chasing the heat gathering low in my body, and his groan vibrated through both of us.

Then his hands stilled.

He rested his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “If we keep going, I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Neither am I.”

“That is not the reassuring answer I was hoping for.”

I smiled, but the bond surged between us with a hunger that frightened me as much as it thrilled me. I wanted Logan. There was no question about that. I also wanted to know that when we finally crossed that line, it was because we had chosen each other with clear eyes. Not because fate had shoved us together, not because I was rebelling against my mother, and not because ancient magic had turned desire into a command.

“I want this,” I told him. “I want you. But not here. Not tonight.”

His expression softened. He lifted his hand from my breast and carefully drew the loosened straps back onto my shoulders. “When it happens, I want a door that locks, a bed that isn’t attached to a haunted laundromat, and considerably less risk of your mother setting me on fire.”

“Demanding.”

“I have standards. They developed recently.”

I fastened my bra and pulled on my blouse while he made an elaborate show of watching the movie. His attention remained fixed on the screen until I finished, though the smile pulling at his mouth ruined the performance.

The projector sputtered. Onscreen, the movie vampire walked into sunlight and burst into flames that looked suspiciously like tinsel.

“That had better not be foreshadowing,” Logan said.

“Relax. If my mother sets you on fire, it’ll look much more expensive.”