I nod.
“Me too.”
Then he closes my door, and I don’t see him as he walks behind the car so I swivel around, watching through the tinted window as he reaches the other side quickly and opens the door, his dark eyes pinning me and sending a rush of heat down my chest and straight to my very core. He never takes his eyes from me as he closes the door, and hits a button on the console that starts to close the tinted privacy partition, telling the driver “Just drive.”
Like it’s a command.
Then he turns and looks at me, and for a long beat we are still, the air between us crackling with the anticipation of what’s next. But I am overcome with want and I can’t hold back, nor can he. As the engine starts, I unbuckle myself just as his hands are on my face, and he sucks in a breath at the first touch. Then, a low growl escapes his throat as his lips find mine with a hungry kiss that ignites something in me.
I grab his shirt, loving the feel of his strong, firm chest. My fingers fist the fabric as I pull him closer, but he doesn’t need any direction from me. Within seconds, his hands are in my hair, and his lips are consuming me, his tongue tangling with mine, and I’m about to burst from all this sensation—from the way he smells so masculine and strong, to the delicious scratch of his stubble, to the calloused fingers that tug on my hair.
He tastes so f**king good that I don’t want to stop. Instead, I want to be devoured by him. I want him—no, I need him, I desperately need him—to do something about this onslaught of desire he’s started in my body that’s become a delicious and needy ache between my legs.
“I want to be under you,” I say, and I’m not even sure how I’m forming words, let alone coherent thoughts, but all I know is what my body is demanding. I need the weight of him on me. I need to feel him pressed hard against me. I take off my jacket quickly, tossing it to the floor of the car, and he does the same. Then I slide down on the leather so I’m lying flat, and he moves with me, hovering over me, braced on his strong arms.
“Who needs jackets anyway?” he says with a wry smile, then returns his lips to my neck, trailing kisses across my skin that make me hot and wet and hungry.
“Jill,” he says, and he’s no longer playful. He’s intense and demanding, as he puts a hand on my chin and makes me look at him. “Tell me you think about me.”
I don’t answer. I just breathe out hard.
“Tell me I get you off when you’re all alone.”
I bite my lip, and my ni**les harden from the way he’s speaking to me. I want his hands all over me. I want his hands between my legs. I wriggle under him, arching my h*ps against him. He moves away, so I can’t feel his erection against me, even though I’m dying to.
“Tell me you picture me doing all sorts of things to you.” His hands roam down my chest, and he cups my br**sts through my sweater. I nearly cry out, it feels so good, sparks of sheer pleasure rippling through my entire being. “You do, don’t you?”
“Why are you asking me?” I say in a tortured voice, because he’s tormenting me with his fantastic hands, pinching my nipple between his thumb and index finger and it’s rough, but it makes me feel alive. It makes this moment feel real. I want to feel every single thing right now. Every real feeling.
“Because. I don’t want you thinking of someone else when I make you come tonight.”
“Oh God,” I gasp, and with a quickness that surprises him, I grab his ass and pull him down to me so I can feel what I’ve done to him, so I can know I’m not the only one tumbling towards the edge.
He gives me a daring look, as if he’s impressed that I snagged the upper hand for one delirious moment, but then I don’t care about this battle of wills because he’s so hard and it’s all because of me, and I can’t get enough of the friction. I tug him closer, so I can feel the steel length of him against my thigh.
Before I know it, his hands are up my shirt, and he’s unhooking my bra. He squeezes my br**sts, and I swear it’s like wildfire racing through me from his slightest touch. I buck my h*ps against him. “Please,” I say.
“Please what?”
“Do something,” I beg.
“Tell me I’m the only one you’re going to think of when you come undone in a few minutes,” he says, his voice rough against my ear.
“Isn’t it f**king obvious?” I say through gritted teeth, and my frustrated response earns me the most wicked grin from Davis. I have no idea what he’s going to do to me, but I don’t care. I can’t stand how long it’s been since someone’s hands have been on me. I want to be touched so badly, I can feel it deep in my bones, this need.
I need him.
“Say it.”
“I think of you. I think of you making me come. There. Are you happy?”
“As happy as you’re going to be in a few minutes.”
Davis
I tug off her sweater as she shrugs out of her bra, then I stop for one brief moment to savour the view. She’s topless, her arms over her head, all beautiful curves and gorgeous flesh, and I want to spend hours on her body, touching and tasting her neck, and her br**sts, and her absolutely enticing belly. But she’s already panting, and I can feel the heat between her legs, even through the denim of her jeans.
I press hard against her with my hand, and she draws in a breath.
“Oh God,” she says, and her voice is rising. She pushes against me, rubbing against my hand in a desperate frenzy. It suddenly hits me that she’s already close. That I could slide my hand inside her jeans, feel her wetness and bring her to release within a few seconds.