expression on his face. She wants to keep being smug with him—it’s Nick, God, with his maddening silences and his stubborn all-weather exterior—but it’s hard to come up with a smartass comment right now, the pleasure glass-sharp inside and out.
He knows it too. “Good?” he asks, this tone that’s completely rhetorical. Taryn can feel it building deep in the cells of her spine. “Open your eyes,” Nick murmurs, working a third finger inside her. The added pressure is equal parts amazing and almost scary. “Come on, Taryn, you’re perfect. Open your eyes.”
So. Taryn opens them.
The orgasm breaks almost as soon as she makes eye contact, crashing through her like a tidal wave clear down to the tips of her fingers and her toes inside her boots. Nick keeps at her slippery body the whole entire time. Taryn presses her forehead against his as it’s happening, clenching hard and rhythmic around his fingers and watching the look on his face that says he can feel every single twitch.
God. God.
“Okay,” she says, before she’s even done, Nick still wringing the last of it out of her. The intensity of it is freaking her out, honestly (she thought it was a fluke, how insanely good it was the night of the fire, the hardest she’d ever—yeah). She wants to make them even as fast as she can. “Okay, you have to let me—” She wriggles until Nick eases his hand out of her panties, scooting back so she can get his dark jeans undone and his boxers around his thighs. Nick lifts his hips to help her out.
“Have to let you what, Falvey?” he asks, breathless. He’s got a nice cock, heavy and thick against his stomach. He’s the one teasing her now. Taryn doesn’t know how she feels about that, but still when she ghosts her knuckles along the underside the skin is so velvety warm—and the sound he makes is so achingly desperate—she almost bends down and sucks until he loses it right there.
But, priorities.
“Have to let me,” she repeats, figuring he can put the pieces together on his own as she crawls back up his body, tipping her chin down for a messy kiss and brushing herself against his cock. Nick breathes in fast and ragged.
“Taryn,” he says, once he’s swallowed. She reaches down to feel him out, wrapping her fist around him and spreading the liquid at the tip with one curious thumb. “We can’t… I didn’t—” Nick breaks off in frustration, skull thudding back against the headrest. She squeezes, just lightly, and he groans. “I don’t have a condom, Falvey.”
Oh. Well. Taryn bites her bottom lip, thinks, Weren’t imagining bringing me back here . Takes a deep breath before she can chicken out. “I do,” she tells him bluntly, and reaches up into the front seat for her purse.
Which—Jesus Christ. Nick stares at her as she roots around in her shoulder bag, a cheap-looking pleather that’s fraying around the straps. She is going to destroy him before they ever get off the ground. “You do?”
Taryn flicks her eyes at him coolly, fishing out a strip of three foil packets and handing them over with a twist of her wrist. “Uh-huh.” Then she grins, sudden and startling as the sun coming out. “Like I told you, Kanelos. All the first moves.”
Nick grins back, her pretty freckled face and a full-body flush from her orgasm. His fingers are still sticky from being inside her. “You told me,” he agrees, closing his fist around the condoms. “Figured we’d need three, huh?” he asks, as Taryn drops the purse and leans back in.
“Mmm-hmm.” Falvey pats his closed hand condescendingly, ducking close for a kiss. “N’case you effed up.”
Nick rolls his eyes and pulls away to tear one open, Taryn watching from her perch near his knees. Her eyes are very bright. “Come here,” he says once he’s sheathed, pushing that tight flannel shirt down her arms and off. The Tahoe is warm as anything now, their body heat plus the vents, the windshield starting to get just the
He knows it too. “Good?” he asks, this tone that’s completely rhetorical. Taryn can feel it building deep in the cells of her spine. “Open your eyes,” Nick murmurs, working a third finger inside her. The added pressure is equal parts amazing and almost scary. “Come on, Taryn, you’re perfect. Open your eyes.”
So. Taryn opens them.
The orgasm breaks almost as soon as she makes eye contact, crashing through her like a tidal wave clear down to the tips of her fingers and her toes inside her boots. Nick keeps at her slippery body the whole entire time. Taryn presses her forehead against his as it’s happening, clenching hard and rhythmic around his fingers and watching the look on his face that says he can feel every single twitch.
God. God.
“Okay,” she says, before she’s even done, Nick still wringing the last of it out of her. The intensity of it is freaking her out, honestly (she thought it was a fluke, how insanely good it was the night of the fire, the hardest she’d ever—yeah). She wants to make them even as fast as she can. “Okay, you have to let me—” She wriggles until Nick eases his hand out of her panties, scooting back so she can get his dark jeans undone and his boxers around his thighs. Nick lifts his hips to help her out.
“Have to let you what, Falvey?” he asks, breathless. He’s got a nice cock, heavy and thick against his stomach. He’s the one teasing her now. Taryn doesn’t know how she feels about that, but still when she ghosts her knuckles along the underside the skin is so velvety warm—and the sound he makes is so achingly desperate—she almost bends down and sucks until he loses it right there.
But, priorities.
“Have to let me,” she repeats, figuring he can put the pieces together on his own as she crawls back up his body, tipping her chin down for a messy kiss and brushing herself against his cock. Nick breathes in fast and ragged.
“Taryn,” he says, once he’s swallowed. She reaches down to feel him out, wrapping her fist around him and spreading the liquid at the tip with one curious thumb. “We can’t… I didn’t—” Nick breaks off in frustration, skull thudding back against the headrest. She squeezes, just lightly, and he groans. “I don’t have a condom, Falvey.”
Oh. Well. Taryn bites her bottom lip, thinks, Weren’t imagining bringing me back here . Takes a deep breath before she can chicken out. “I do,” she tells him bluntly, and reaches up into the front seat for her purse.
Which—Jesus Christ. Nick stares at her as she roots around in her shoulder bag, a cheap-looking pleather that’s fraying around the straps. She is going to destroy him before they ever get off the ground. “You do?”
Taryn flicks her eyes at him coolly, fishing out a strip of three foil packets and handing them over with a twist of her wrist. “Uh-huh.” Then she grins, sudden and startling as the sun coming out. “Like I told you, Kanelos. All the first moves.”
Nick grins back, her pretty freckled face and a full-body flush from her orgasm. His fingers are still sticky from being inside her. “You told me,” he agrees, closing his fist around the condoms. “Figured we’d need three, huh?” he asks, as Taryn drops the purse and leans back in.
“Mmm-hmm.” Falvey pats his closed hand condescendingly, ducking close for a kiss. “N’case you effed up.”
Nick rolls his eyes and pulls away to tear one open, Taryn watching from her perch near his knees. Her eyes are very bright. “Come here,” he says once he’s sheathed, pushing that tight flannel shirt down her arms and off. The Tahoe is warm as anything now, their body heat plus the vents, the windshield starting to get just the
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