idea.”
He pulls up to a streetlight. “Two can play at this game, you know.” His arm crosses mine to cup a breast.
A thrill zings through me. “You have the worst car imaginable for this,” I say. The deep seats mean we have a lot less access to each other.
“You should have longer arms,” he teases. The light turns green, and the Stingray jets along Cesar Chavez again.
I glance out the windows. It’s dark out, just the streetlamps. We’re not in a great part of town right now, so I bide my time, lightly running my hands along the bulge in Colt’s boxers that pushes out from the open zipper.
Eventually we arrive at the big park where I fled from his father. The irony of this makes me want to giggle. I slip my hand inside Colt’s waistband. My fingers close around him. He’s hot, and the veins pulse gently beneath his skin.
He puts both hands back on the wheel as he navigates the car. His jaw is tight as he concentrates. I squeeze him at the base and work my way to the tip, then down again. Despite the chill outside, I see a bead of sweat form on his forehead.
With a sudden squeal of the tires, Colt turns hard to the right and rolls through the entrance to a parking garage. We pitch downward into the belly of the cavernous empty garage.
Before he’s even jammed the gearshift into park, he’s unbuckled his seat belt and is reaching for mine. I’m released in an instant, and Colt is hauling me over the center console. He slides the driver’s seat as far back as it will go. Even so, I bump into the steering wheel and set off the horn in a short blast that echoes in the garage.
Colt laughs. “Now we’ll have spectators.” With another adjustment, he leans the seat back as far as it will go. It’s enough for him to work my jeans loose and push them down.
My face feels flushed as I kick the jeans into the footwell. I sit up on him, my knees on either side of his thighs.
“You should have taken these off too,” he says, his fingers in the band of my panties.
With a quick snap, they’re off.
Chapter Twelve
“You owe me two pairs of underwear now,” I tell him. The feel of his jeans rough against my bare skin sends a shiver through me.
“Maybe I’ll ban them,” he says, pulling me down so he can press his lips against my neck. “I run a no-panty household.”
He grabs my hips and shifts me into place over him. I can feel him hard against me. The zipper presses into my skin. I reach between us to push his clothing farther down.
“That’s it,” he says. His hands move beneath my shirt and under my bra. “This is what happens to naughty girls who tease me while I’m driving.” He shifts a little, and he’s there, pushing me open, cleaving me in a bold thrust.
I brace myself on his shoulders, trying to keep the tilting world in its proper position. The wine, I think, and everything starts to blend together. His body under mine, the way he fills me up, his hands on my skin.
I’m glad for the strength in my thighs as I lift up over him and slide down again. I don’t let him get used to any speed or rhythm, catching him off guard, refusing to let him settle in. He groans into my hair, reaching around to pull me tighter to him.
The tension is building in me now, so I let go of taunting him and slow the pace. The heat is spreading. The fuzziness of my brain doesn’t quite register fast enough what is happening because suddenly I’m crying out against Colt’s shoulder, my body convulsing against him. Sparks are shooting in every direction, and I’m laughing and gulping tears at the same time.
Colt grabs my hips and controls the rhythm now, pushing with powerful thrusts. The rush of warmth floods inside me when he comes. His hands are a vise, clutching my body as he shudders beneath me.
Headlights pierce the foggy windows. A car is driving through the garage. “Oh my God,” I say, ready to scramble off Colt.
He tightens his grip on me. “Hold tight,” he says. “Just be
He pulls up to a streetlight. “Two can play at this game, you know.” His arm crosses mine to cup a breast.
A thrill zings through me. “You have the worst car imaginable for this,” I say. The deep seats mean we have a lot less access to each other.
“You should have longer arms,” he teases. The light turns green, and the Stingray jets along Cesar Chavez again.
I glance out the windows. It’s dark out, just the streetlamps. We’re not in a great part of town right now, so I bide my time, lightly running my hands along the bulge in Colt’s boxers that pushes out from the open zipper.
Eventually we arrive at the big park where I fled from his father. The irony of this makes me want to giggle. I slip my hand inside Colt’s waistband. My fingers close around him. He’s hot, and the veins pulse gently beneath his skin.
He puts both hands back on the wheel as he navigates the car. His jaw is tight as he concentrates. I squeeze him at the base and work my way to the tip, then down again. Despite the chill outside, I see a bead of sweat form on his forehead.
With a sudden squeal of the tires, Colt turns hard to the right and rolls through the entrance to a parking garage. We pitch downward into the belly of the cavernous empty garage.
Before he’s even jammed the gearshift into park, he’s unbuckled his seat belt and is reaching for mine. I’m released in an instant, and Colt is hauling me over the center console. He slides the driver’s seat as far back as it will go. Even so, I bump into the steering wheel and set off the horn in a short blast that echoes in the garage.
Colt laughs. “Now we’ll have spectators.” With another adjustment, he leans the seat back as far as it will go. It’s enough for him to work my jeans loose and push them down.
My face feels flushed as I kick the jeans into the footwell. I sit up on him, my knees on either side of his thighs.
“You should have taken these off too,” he says, his fingers in the band of my panties.
With a quick snap, they’re off.
Chapter Twelve
“You owe me two pairs of underwear now,” I tell him. The feel of his jeans rough against my bare skin sends a shiver through me.
“Maybe I’ll ban them,” he says, pulling me down so he can press his lips against my neck. “I run a no-panty household.”
He grabs my hips and shifts me into place over him. I can feel him hard against me. The zipper presses into my skin. I reach between us to push his clothing farther down.
“That’s it,” he says. His hands move beneath my shirt and under my bra. “This is what happens to naughty girls who tease me while I’m driving.” He shifts a little, and he’s there, pushing me open, cleaving me in a bold thrust.
I brace myself on his shoulders, trying to keep the tilting world in its proper position. The wine, I think, and everything starts to blend together. His body under mine, the way he fills me up, his hands on my skin.
I’m glad for the strength in my thighs as I lift up over him and slide down again. I don’t let him get used to any speed or rhythm, catching him off guard, refusing to let him settle in. He groans into my hair, reaching around to pull me tighter to him.
The tension is building in me now, so I let go of taunting him and slow the pace. The heat is spreading. The fuzziness of my brain doesn’t quite register fast enough what is happening because suddenly I’m crying out against Colt’s shoulder, my body convulsing against him. Sparks are shooting in every direction, and I’m laughing and gulping tears at the same time.
Colt grabs my hips and controls the rhythm now, pushing with powerful thrusts. The rush of warmth floods inside me when he comes. His hands are a vise, clutching my body as he shudders beneath me.
Headlights pierce the foggy windows. A car is driving through the garage. “Oh my God,” I say, ready to scramble off Colt.
He tightens his grip on me. “Hold tight,” he says. “Just be
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