#SonOfABiscuit

Spence had thought it’d be fun to teach Colbie how to drive. Turned out fun wasn’t quite the right word.

Terrifying would’ve been a better one.

Or here were two. Living. Nightmare.

She stomped on the brake and he practically kissed the windshield. He was still peeling his face off the glass when she hit the gas, knocking the back of his head into the seat rest . . .

“Whoops,” she said and jammed both feet on the brake.

Shaking his head from the whiplash, he put a hand on her arm to stop her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Your pedals are a little touchy.”

Uh-huh. “Try sweet-talking it into doing your bidding,” he suggested. “Ease it gently into following your whim. You do that and it’ll give you a helluva good ride.”

Colbie slid him a look. “Are you aware that sometimes the things you say sound dirty? You want me to sweet-talk what exactly into giving me a good ride—your truck or your favorite body part?”

He grinned. “Honey, you can sweet-talk my favorite body part anytime you want. Now put one foot on the brake and then the truck back in drive.”

She put her left foot on the brake pedal.

“Other foot,” he said.

She switched to her right foot. “I’ve always thought that seems dumb,” she said. “Why not use a foot for each pedal?”

“Because it works out better for the engine—and my neck—if you don’t try to use both the gas and the brake at the same time.”

“Oh,” she said. “Good point.” She paused. “You do know that I have no idea what I’m doing, right?”

“I’m getting that,” he said. “Didn’t you ever ride the bumper cars at the fair? Or Autopia at Disneyland?”

“No. But one time my brother stole an ATV. He joyrode it home and I had to drive it back.”

“And how did that go?”

She didn’t answer.

He glanced over and grinned at the flash of guilt on her face. “Let me guess. Not good.”

“I hit the gas too hard, did a wheelie, and fell off the back,” she said and winced. “Got a concussion.”

He had an arm stretched out along the back of the seats and slid his hand up the nape of her neck to palm and cradle her head. “We’re not going to do that today,” he said.

“Thought you didn’t make promises you couldn’t keep.”

“I don’t. Now hold the brake down and put it in drive,” he said again. “You’re going to be fine.”

His voice was purposefully low. Authoritative. Calm.

Which in turn appeared to calm her. She held a foot down on the brake and put the truck into drive.

“Now slowly let off the brake,” he said, “and ease on the gas. Emphasis on ease.”

She didn’t exactly ease, but hey, she didn’t stomp either, and then they were making their way across the empty lot, weaving because she was checking out the complicated-looking GPS system on the dash.

“You’ve got this thing rigged for a Mars excursion,” she said.

“Watch the road, not the screen,” he warned, eyeing the planter along the parking lot, the one lined with full-grown trees.

“No, but seriously, what are all these gadgets for?”

“I’ll tell you later.” They were getting closer to the trees. “Honey, watch the road.”

“I’m not on the road. We’re in a parking lot.”

“Which is a good thing considering you’re taking up the equivalent of four lanes. Going to have to lock it down to graduate to the road.”

“How’s this? Better?”

He paused.

She risked a look at him.

He grimaced. “Yes?”

“Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re a really bad liar.”

“Maybe because I’m distracted by the planter you’re heading for. Trees, Colbie. Lots of trees.”

“Son of a biscuit!” She swerved wildly, then slammed the brakes so that they both came up against their seatbelts hard enough to rattle some teeth loose.

“Huh,” she said. “You know, this really isn’t nearly as easy as it looks.”

“Some people aren’t meant for driving,” he said. “Some people maybe have other talents.”

She had to laugh. “Like ordering an Uber?”

“There’s no shame in that.”

On her fifth time around the lot, she’d gotten the hang of things. Somewhat. Sure, she’d mistakenly driven up and over a concrete planter and maybe killed a few daisies while she was at it. And okay, so she’d also left a good amount of rubber on the asphalt when she’d accidentally executed a burnout, but she hadn’t crashed into anything.

Yet.

She was working on controlling her speed, going too fast into a tight turn, when a whoop of a siren and a flash of blue and red lights came from behind them.

“Uh-oh,” she said, looking wild—and wide-eyed.

The security guard came to the driver’s side window and bent down to look at first Colbie and then Spence. “What’s with the Indy 500 act?”

“I’m learning how to drive,” Colbie told him.

“Are you sure?” the cop asked.

“Yes!” Colbie sighed. “I’m just not all that good at it yet.”

“You broke about ten driving laws just now.”

“She’s not on the street,” Spence said. “We’re on private property.”

“True enough,” the security guard said. “But someone called it in from the building. Said there were two stupid teenagers in the lot acting crazy and probably smoking pot.” He lifted a brow and eyed Spence. “You in charge here?”

“Yes.”

“Actually,” Colbie said, “I’m in charge of myself.”

Spence produced a badge and the officer took it, studied it, and then returned it. “I’m sorry, sir,” the guy said. “I didn’t recognize you. Have a good one.” And then he left.

Colbie looked at Spence in disbelief. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked.

“He acted like you own this place.”

“That’s because I do.”

She stared at him. “You’re like one of those really great cinnamon twists we had the other day in Union Square. Lots of surprising layers I didn’t see coming.”

“Right back at you,” Spence said. “And I bet, like the rolls, you’re also sweet and good to eat.”

She squirmed in her seat and blushed. “You don’t know that.”

He smiled. “I have a good imagination.”

At Spence’s words, Colbie’s face felt like it was having a hot flash. Then Spence—smiling because he seemed to know exactly what he did to her—leaned in excruciatingly slowly, until his lips just brushed hers.

Colbie’s hot flash spread to every single inch of her body. The anticipation of his touch was enough to galvanize her into reaching up and tearing off his glasses.

His smile widened and he finally kissed her, making her moan in pleasure. And he kept kissing her too, until they’d steamed up the windows and had gotten their hands on each other in ways that made it hard to breathe, when Spence pressed his forehead to hers.

“Not here,” he said, voice so low as to be barely audible.

She heard herself give a little mewl of protest and then another in pure pleasure when his hands, one inside her shirt and the other up her skirt, caressed bare, heated skin.

“I’m not taking you in a parking lot,” he said and nipped her lower lip. “Not for our first time.”

So many things to quiver over. One, that he clearly assumed there’d be more than one time. Two, that she was bad off enough that she started to argue the point. “But—”

With a husky laugh, he put his finger over her mouth. “There’s security on the property, including cameras. The last thing either of us needs is a sex tape on YouTube.” He lifted her out of the driver seat, put his glasses back on, and took over.

She barely remembered getting back because he had his hand on her thigh and that was all she could think about, that and also the way the rough pads of his fingers felt on her skin as he stroked it while driving.

After he parked at the Pacific Pier Building and came around for her, they collided and kissed right there on the sidewalk, Spence pressing her up against the truck until his phone buzzed.

He straightened his glasses and ripped the phone from his pocket. “What?” His gaze slid to hers, his mouth very slightly curved as he listened and then disconnected.

“What?” she asked.

“I have tight security on this building too. Joe’s on the monitors and got worried that I might actually swallow your tonsils.”

She smiled. “I don’t have any tonsils.”

With a laugh, he took her hand and they moved through the courtyard and into the elevator. She stood next to him and tilted her face to his, looking at his mouth.

He groaned. “Stop.”

“Cameras in here too?”

“Yeah. Remind me to rethink that,” he said, cupping her face, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes heavy lidded.

Somehow they got to his floor, where he tugged her off the elevator, his stride so fast that she nearly had to run to keep up with him.

They tumbled inside his place, where he pressed her up against the foyer table and kissed her. She got his jacket off his shoulders but it caught on his forearms because he was simultaneously divesting her of her coat and scarf. Giving up on his jacket, she started pushing up his T-shirt, laughing breathlessly when they both went to kick off their shoes and tripped over each other, crashing into the wall.

“No cameras in here, right?” she asked against his mouth.

“Not a one.” He was down to just pants now, and since he’d left her dress puddled on the floor, she was in her bra and panties when he stilled, his eyes glazing over as he took in the midnight blue see-through lace. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said roughly, catching her hands, holding them out at her sides. “I could look at you all night.”

The fire in his eyes did things to her. As did the telling bulge behind his zipper. “Me too. I mean”—she grimaced at herself—“I could look at you all night too.”

He flashed a grin. “You’re nervous.”

“What? Of course not,” she denied and then closed her eyes. “Okay, yes. I’m incredibly nervous. It’s . . . been a while.”

“Don’t be. Maybe I’m really bad at this.”

She laughed helplessly. “You’re not.”

“You don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’m the one who’s nervous. Go easy on me, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, not buying this for one second but finding it incredibly sweet that he wanted her to be at ease.

Sweet and incredibly sexy. Needing a moment, she turned away, grasping the foyer desk, dropping her head, struggling to control herself.

Spence came up behind her, his hands skimming up her arms. She was so turned on by the feel of him surrounding her that she pressed her bottom into him, and this time it was his groan to echo in the apartment as he slowly circled her waist with his hands.

Using his jaw to sweep her hair aside, he brushed a kiss to her ear and then to the sensitive spot just beneath it as he pressed a hand flat to her belly to keep their bodies lined up.

She wanted him so bad that she had a death grip on the desk as she ground into him. When his hands slid north, her head fell back against his shoulder, her body trembling for his touch.

Her bra hit the floor. His hands came up to cup her freed breasts in his warm palms, his thumbs sliding slowly over her nipples, making her shudder. She was panting, unable to get control, and she was torn between embarrassment at her reaction to him and sheer lust. Sheer lust won when she felt his mouth on the nape of her neck before he turned her in his arms and captured her mouth in his.

She kissed him back, slow and deep, feeling more turned on than she’d ever felt in her life as he lifted her up against him and started walking.

The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back on his bed. “Um,” she said, and he stilled, a question in his eyes. “I’m so nervous I might forget my moves,” she said. “I feel like this is my first time.”

His lips curved in a dark, sexy smile. “This is going to be better than your first time,” he promised.

“How do you know?”

He finished stripping and she stopped breathing as she watched. He grabbed something from a drawer. A condom. Good. At least one of them was thinking. She reached for him, pulling him down over top of her, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“Not yet,” he said. “You’re not ready—”

She reached down and guided him home. He said her name in protest, in pleasure, in surprise . . . She understood that last one because nothing surprised her more than the feel of him taking over, filling her to the hilt, and moving inside her so exquisitely that she came almost instantly.

“Not any good at this, huh?” she managed when she found her tongue.

Spence buried his face in her throat and both laughed and groaned. “Christ, Colbie.” His voice was guttural and strained. “You feel so good. So fucking good that I don’t want to ever stop.”

“Then don’t.” She matched him thrust for thrust as they moved together, and she knew the truth, that it was him that felt so good because she didn’t want to ever stop either.

“Colbie.”

She managed to look at him as he took her hands in his, entwining their fingers on either side of her head, pressing her into the mattress as he moved inside her, taking her places she’d never been. His eyes held hers prisoner, watching, coaxing, his voice a low sexy murmur as she came again, or still. Their gazes were locked as her third—or was it fourth?—orgasm triggered his so that he came with her, her name on his lips as he finally let himself go.

It was the most erotic experience of her life.