We were halfway home before I'd settled down enough to think straight.
Thinking about what had happened was the last thing I wanted to do, but I didn't have much choice; every time I closed my eyes, I saw Colin, naked and half-shifted and erect, poised over me like he meant to…I couldn't go there.
So instead of thinking like Newton, I pulled out the notebook and pen I'd stashed in my backpack and tried to think like Dr. McEwen, geneticist and logical man of science.
"Jesus, dude," Colin said. "Seriously? If I tried to write in the car I'd be puking all over the place."
"Less talking, more driving," I muttered, and turned to a new page.
Colin huffed a laugh and shut up, thank the gods.
We'd only exchanged a couple of words since we got in the car, mostly me offering him a granola bar and him refusing, and I wanted to keep that streak going. I needed a little space to order my thoughts.
And stop thinking about his cock.
