Do you see us there? Scarlet and me?
Do you see the way her body curves to mine? The way there’s never more than an inch of space between us? Do you see her wearing my hat backward, not caring about her hair or the fact that she’s plastered all over national television with curls all over the place and a boy clinging to her side like his goddamn life depends on her living and breathing?
I kiss her again, never able to stop. When I look into Scarlet’s eyes, she has an expression I’ve never seen on a woman before.
Love? I think it’s there.
Lust? Sure.
I don’t know the expression, but I’m positive it mirrors mine in some way. There are probably fifty people surrounding us, but I can’t look away from her. When Rhya killed herself, I told myself I wouldn’t or couldn’t have a relationship with a woman and not compare it to her. I assumed anything I had with another woman would be jaded like that relationship. I failed to realize I could have something with Scarlet because she was nothing like Rhya.
I wonder if she understands just how much she’s breathing life back into me with simple looks?
Scarlet sighs beside me, a slow, drawn-out breath, her eyes shining under the lights of the Rose Bowl.
“What?” I ask, my eyes focused intently on hers, searching for an indication as to what she’s feeling, and hoping to God she’s ready to leave.
“Nothing,” she says, then she winks. “You’re ready to go, right?”
Thank fuck!
“You have no idea,” I whisper against her neck, pressing a suggestive kiss right below her ear, just as I’ve done all night. I can’t pry my lips away from her skin.
“Yeah, well, let’s go. It’s torture seeing you in those riding pants.” Her hands reach for mine, intertwining our hands together. “I might have you keep them on. Just unzip them and fuck me against the wall.”
Jesus Christ.
“I’ll fuck you anywhere you want,” I whisper, she has to feel my erection against her—she has to. I should be concerned at the obvious display we’re putting on in front of the cameras and my brothers, but I can’t help it.
Tiller looks at us, disgusted. “Fuck man, stop that.”
“Why?” Scarlet asks, laughing, but never parting herself from me.
Tiller shrugs and tugs at the front of his pants, handing his helmet to Auden beside him. “Because you’re giving me a chubby. It’s like watching porn.”
“What’s porn?” Camden asks, at Tiller’s feet.
I forgot he was even here tonight. Shit.
Scarlet goes to say something to him, the rousing around us continuing, but I pull her face back to mine, kissing her deeper, with meaning. Removing my hands from hers, I trace them down the lines of her hips, my fingers digging into her skin and I draw her even tighter against my hips. “Ignore them.”
At the contact, she gasps and closes her eyes as though the sensation is exactly what she wants. “I’m trying to, but there are people all around us,” she points out.
Right.
“Let’s go. I can’t wait any longer. I’ll die.” It’s dramatic, I know, but fuck, look at me. I’m standing with forty thousand people in the crowd, and they probably have a pretty good idea of what I’m doing with her.
I can’t take this teasing any longer.
“YOU REALLY DON’T remember, do you?” she asks once we’re in the car on the way back to the house, curious if I remember anything from our first time together in the hotel room.
Sadly, I don’t. At least I don’t think I do. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”
“Why don’t you remember me?” Her eyes soften. “You didn’t even make eye contact with me.”
“More than likely I was too drunk and you know this, but I have a terrible memory.” I didn’t want to be talking about this. I wanted to be kissing her and reminding her that the first time, it didn’t matter. I’m going to make it up to her, or at least I have plans to. “It had nothing to do with you. I was just in a bad place at the time. You wouldn’t have wanted me to make eye contact with you. Believe me, Scar. I still feel like an asshole for not remembering.” Our hands find one another on the center console. I grip her hand a little tighter, winking.
“You should,” Scarlet says, her face somber. “It was the best night of my life until you couldn’t get it up.”
My stare snaps to hers, then back to the road, and quickly returning to amused blue eyes. “Are you serious? You just said we had sex.”
She laughs, her giggles rolling through her. “I’m kidding.”
My brow furrows, scowling at her. “That we had sex or that I couldn’t get it up?”
“That you couldn’t get it up.”
Goddamn.
Then she adds, “But you did pull out and came inside the condom. It was really weird.”
I nod. “I do that. A lot.”
Tucking curls behind her ear, she shifts in the seat and turns to me again, moving our hands to her thigh. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Keeps girls from trying to say you knocked them up or accidentally getting one pregnant.”
“Makes sense.” She nods again, then narrows her eyes at me. “But if you pull out this time, I will punch you in the dick.
“Got it.” I let go of her hand, splaying mine across her thigh and grip it. “Now. . . ” My fingers trail higher. “Let’s talk about what I’m going to do to you once I have you alone and my dick between your legs, instead of you punching me.”
Scarlet pushes my hand away. “No, you drive. Let me.”
My pulse quickens, blood rushing to my swollen cock. My whole back breaks into chills when she unbuttons my jeans.
“Christ,” I whisper, trying to keep my eyes on the road. She unbuckles me, slips her hand into my briefs and squeezes the head of my cock, twirling a drop of precum around it with her thumb.
I groan and slam my foot down on the gas, desperate to get home faster while she jerks me off.
While I attempt to keep the car on the road, we’re needy hands and desperate moans into hungry mouths—both of us anxious to the point our movements become sloppy and out of control. This is finally going to happen.
That’s when I realize I’m about to come in her hand. Just like that.
My body tenses and I stop her hand on my cock. “Stop,” I beg. “I’ll come.”
I feel her breath on my neck. . . her pause. . . then her, “And?” and she grins.
And?
“Scarlet, I’m not coming on your hand,” I tell her. “I’ve done enough of that lately.”
A giggle slips past her lips. Probably intentionally. “You know, I think you should beg or I’ll continue. . . .”
Look at her damn face. Is she serious? Because I can’t tell and I’m too busy trying to not wreck. I have no idea how I haven’t hit anyone or anything, and two, not come. It’s really difficult.
Goddamn her. Is she fucking threatening me? You know me by now. Since when do I take orders from anyone?
Well, her hand is on my cock, and it’s not stopping so this could get sticky.
“Woman, you’re gonna fuckin’ regret—” I start, but she pumps faster, and my balls tighten, the onset of my orgasm so close. “I swear, if I come in my car, on your hand, I’m pulling the car over and making you suck up every fucking drop.”
“I’ve done that before. Remember?” She arches her brow, her hand working faster and I weaken beneath her collected stare. I try again to halt her movements. It doesn’t work. For being tiny, she sure has good grip. “You shouldn’t threaten me. I’m in control here.”
My body shudders, my legs tensing trying to stop it. . . . Fuck.
I cave. Just like that.
Like a pussy, I give her what she wants because I always will with this girl. “Fine, fuck.” My exhale is shaky. “Please, baby.”
“Please baby what?” she teases, waiting, totally in control of the situation. Why is she so fucking good at this?
“Please. . . ” I clear my throat, shifting uncomfortably, my voice gravelly and hoarse, thick with desire. “Please stop. I’d rather come inside you, not on your hand.”
She smiles, naughtily I might add. “What the fuck are you waiting for then? Drive faster.”
So I do. And lucky for me, there’s not a cop in sight.