“Pull over,” I order once I release my lip from my teeth, already unbuckling my seat belt and turning in my seat. Mike gives me a look like he can’t even comprehend what I’m saying, but I can’t wait for him to understand—I’m desperate for the taste of the salt on his skin, and my lips are on his neck even before he pulls onto the shoulder.
His truck shuts off, his seat slides back, and before I can finish climbing onto his lap, he pulls me the rest of the way.
When I straddle him, he’s not a rock star. He’s not my cousin’s ex-boyfriend. He’s just mine. I feel it in the way he kisses me, in the way he clutches my ass and pulls me close until the heat between my legs is burning a brand against his stomach. His gluttonous hands squeeze my ass and move me against his body, just enough to torture me through my leggings, and I gasp and bite his lip between my teeth, fueled by the masculine moan that rumbles against my mouth. When I pull away, his lips follow, refusing to let me go, but I press against his shoulders until he’s pinned against the seat.
I breathe heavily as I stare down at him, my small hands on his big shoulders and my knees framing his thighs. He’s so beautiful in the moonlight—his dark lashes, his moist lips, and those bedroom eyes that stare up at me like I’m a goddess gracing Earth.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and I surrender to temptation, reaching out and running my fingers gently through his hair.
Mike closes his eyes, and then he captures my hand and draws my palm to his mouth. His soft kiss scorches my skin, and heat pools between my legs when he opens his eyes with the center of my palm still held against his mouth. My body trembles with need as I hover above him, and I know he can feel it.
“You deserve so much better than a truck along the side of the road,” he says when he releases my hand, and I worry at the regret in his voice.
“Do you want to stop?” I ask, and he holds my gaze for just a moment before his hands slide up my thighs, grip my hips, and press me slowly, firmly down onto his lap. I gasp when his sex pushes against my heat, straining desperately against his jeans and my paper-thin leggings.
“No,” he says, the lust in his voice soaking my panties. His hands travel beneath the tulle of my dress, feathering up my sides and making my entire body break into goose bumps. Our eyes lock when he sits up and brings his mouth within a breath of mine. “I’ll give you better later.”
Mike’s mouth claims mine with enough heat to ignite us both, and his body awakens every one of my senses. His cock teases my sex even as his hands continue playing up my bare sides. They travel higher and higher, until he’s palming the swell of my breast and sweeping his thumb across my pebbled nipple.
I gasp against his mouth, and Mike nips at my bottom lip. “You’re so soft,” he breathes, and when he lowers his hand and pulls away from me, my body weeps for him. “I want to see you,” he says, his gaze intent even as his voice questions.
A lump forms in my throat, but I can’t deny those brown eyes that have made me melt even in my dreams. I’ve wondered this before—what he would look like beneath me. And now that I see it, now that I have it—I want to give him anything he wants. I want to give myself to him.
I sit a little further back, and I find the hem of my dress. With shivering hands, I start to lift it up, but Mike finishes the job, his fingers grazing the undersides of my arms as he lifts it over my head.
“Hailey,” he admires, his eyes caressing my body before feasting on my breasts. I fight the urge to cover them, to hide from him, but he doesn’t give me the chance. Mike takes my hands in his, places them against the sides of his neck, and shifts in his seat until I’m lying back against the steering wheel and he’s taking my nipple into his mouth.
I don’t recognize the sound of pleasure that bursts from my lips, or the way my fingers scratch into his hair and beg him to continue savoring me. His tongue swims across my nipple, sending waves of pleasure rippling under my skin. He sucks and pulls and pins it between his teeth while he rolls the other between smooth fingertips, and I can’t help the way my hips respond to him. I grind helplessly against his cock, and it tortures us both until he’s groaning against my breast and I’m moaning into the air.
“Take them off,” I pant, and Mike doesn’t ask for clarification before he hooks his fingers inside my leggings and helps yank them off. I take off my boots to remove the black material the rest of the way, and then I settle on Mike’s lap again, my panties damp against his jeans.
I grind against him purposefully this time, kissing him with wild lust that fogs the truck’s windows, and Mike grips my ass as I do, encouraging me to ride him. I move my hips until the feel of his denim fly against my thin cotton panties steals my ability to think, until my moans are desperate cries, and Mike steals his lips from my neck to pant, “Let me inside you, baby.”
Oh God. I don’t know if it was the gravel in his voice or the way he called me baby, but I’m fumbling for his zipper even as he helps me out of the last article of clothing I have on. Mike shifts his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement, and then I’m hovering on my knees above the point of no return.
On impulse, I gaze down, and my eyes widen when I see the size of what was straining inside his jeans.
“Shit,” he breathes as he follows my gaze, a line forming in his brow. “I don’t keep any condoms in my—”
I shake my head at him, shock still washing over me. “I’m on birth control. It’s just—”