She’s driving me out of my mind. I can’t do this, not while she’s driving my car. We get a little too into it, and next thing I know we’re wrecked. Literally.

I’m not in the mood to die tonight.

“Pull over,” I demand.

She frowns at me. “What?”

“I said, pull over.” I wave a finger at an upcoming parking lot to the right. “Now.”

Jensen turns on the blinker and pulls into the parking lot of an old church. She cruises to the very back, behind the building, and guides the car into a spot in the deepest corner of the lot so we’re facing a rickety old fence. She puts the car in park, shuts off the engine and unbuckles her seat belt before she turns and faces me. “Tell me what to do now, Rhett.”

My blood heats at her soft words. I slowly undo my seatbelt, anticipation thrumming in my veins. We’re playing some sort of game tonight, and I am a willing participant. I blame the alcohol.

And the woman.

“Take off your sweater.”

She does as I ask, whipping the thin black sweater up and over her head, tossing it behind her so it lands in the back seat. She had no bra on, so all I see are her perfect breasts, her tiny pink nipples hard and begging for my mouth.

But I decide to show a little restraint first.

“Your skirt.” I flick my chin at her. “Get rid of it.”

It’s gone in a matter of seconds, a crumpled ball on the floor.

“Now your panties.”

Jensen arches a brow, then slowly removes her underwear. There is something so goddamn sexy about watching a woman slip out of a delicate piece of lacy panties, sliding them down her long, slim legs. They get tangled around her ankles and heels, and when she finally kicks them off, her knowing gaze meets mine. “Do you want them?”

“Yeah,” I croak, clearing my throat. I stare at her naked form, sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, and I know I will never forget this moment, this night.

This girl.

She hands her panties over and I take them, crumpling the damp fabric against my palm. In the close confines of the car, the musky smell of her fills the space, and I know she’s aroused.

Fuck, I’m aroused too.

“Come here,” I whisper, and she crawls over the center console, settling her warm, naked body on me. She slings her arms around my neck, her hands clasped loosely at my nape, her knees bent on either side of my hips, with her thighs spread wide. Open and willing and all mine.

A tiny smile still curls her lips as she studies me. “You got me where you want me, Montgomery?”

I rest my hands at her hips, squeezing gently. “You want this? A few hours ago you looked like you wanted to throw a drink in my face.”

She leans in close, her lips just above mine. “That’s because you were an asshole.”

“And last week?” When she frowns, I continue, “When you slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night?”

Her frown deepens, and guilt clouds her eyes as she shifts away, creating distance between us. “I…panicked.”

“Why?” I touch her breast, circling her nipple with my finger. “You didn’t like it?” If she says she didn’t enjoy that night we shared, I’ll know she’s a pathological liar, unable to help herself. The way she responded to me was too real for me to believe she faked it.

If she did, she’s the best actress I’ve ever witnessed.

“I liked it too much,” she whispers, her eyes fluttering closed when I pinch her nipple with my thumb and index finger. She hisses in a breath when I squeeze tighter, and I drop my hand, leaning forward and bathing her skin with my tongue to ease the pain.

She sinks her hands into my hair, tugging on the strands extra hard, as if she wants to hurt me too. “I shouldn’t like you so much,” she confesses.

Now I’m confused. I lift my head away from her chest, my hands remaining on her breasts, her hands still in my hair. “Why not?”

“I’m supposed to hate you. Uh, your type, I mean.” I don’t get what she’s saying, but I sort of don’t care either. Not while I have her naked and willing in my car in the back of a church parking lot.

It feels…wrong. But in the best way possible. Like we could get caught. Someone could see us. She doesn’t have a stitch of clothing on. All I can see is naked skin and light brown pubic hair, and I reach for her there, sinking my fingers inside her wetness, finding and rubbing her clit with my thumb.

“Oh, God,” she chokes out as I stroke her. I want her to come.

Immediately.

Leaning in, I suck her nipple into her mouth as I explore her pussy with my fingers, coming back to her clit every few seconds. She trembles. She moans. She lifts her hips and rides my hand, helping me increase the pace. Back and forth she shifts, her breaths coming quicker, her skin becoming flushed. Hotter.

She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Faster,” she gasps, and I give her what she wants, watching her the entire time, my gaze locked on her pretty face. She comes apart in my arms, her body quaking with her orgasm. She whimpers, her eyes tightly closed, as if she’s solely focused on the way I’m making her feel, and when it’s finally over, she opens her eyes, her blissed-out gaze meeting mine.

My hand still cupping her, I lean in and kiss her, whispering against her lips, “You’re beautiful when you come.”

She pushes at my shoulders so I fall back against the seat. “Don’t say that.”

I’m frowning again. This girl is damn confusing. “Why not?”

“It’s…embarrassing.” She shakes her head, and I notice her cheeks are extra pink. Like I actually did embarrass her.

“No one has ever told you that before?” Of course, this makes me think of her having sex with other guys, and I’m immediately annoyed. Jealous. Possessive.

Yeah, all of those stupid caveman feelings are swamping me.

“No. No one has ever told me that before.” Her voice is flat and her gaze is distant, and no way in hell am I going to let this go to shit. Not after witnessing the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in a long-ass time. Maybe ever.

Reaching with my right hand, I search and eventually find the lever and recline the seat, until I’m practically horizontal, Jensen sprawled across the top of me. She puts her face in mine, her breath tickling my lips, and then we’re kissing.

I slip my fingers into her hair as I slip my tongue into her mouth, clutching her close. I keep the kiss soft. Romantic. I’m trying to coax her back into it, because what I just saw was her closing herself off, shutting me out.

And I don’t want that. Despite everything she’s done to me, and all the lies she’s told, I’m still into her. Maybe that makes me an idiot, but fuck it.

I’m too turned on to care.

I cradle her head in my hands and drink from her lips. Lick them. Thrust my tongue into her mouth so I can taste her. She moans as if coming back alive, her hands going for my shirt and hurriedly unbuttoning it. I help her help me out of it and she breaks away from my mouth to kiss along my neck, my chest…

“I want you inside me,” she murmurs, her fingers undoing the button, then sliding down the zipper of my jeans. She spreads the fly wide open, her fingers skimming over my erection, and a groan escapes me at her teasing touch. “Please, Rhett.”

She sounds desperate. I feel desperate.

We work together to take off my jeans, tug down my boxer briefs until my cock springs free. Before I can do anything she’s guiding me inside her, both of us groaning when I slip into her wet heat. She sinks all the way down, until I’m fully engulfed, and I close my eyes. Grit my teeth. I don’t want to come too fast.

But she feels so damn good.

Jensen starts to move and I help her, my hands at her hips, lifting her, pulling her back down. She’s fucking me hard, so damn hard. Her hands are braced on the roof, her breasts jiggling as she rides me. I stare up at her, captivated by her face, her body, the way she moves, the sounds she makes, how she’s so utterly lost to the feeling of the two of us together…

She opens her eyes and comes to a pause, smiling down at me. “You’re staring.”

“I am.” I don’t bother denying it.

“You like watching?” She raises her brows.

“I like watching you.”

Her smile fades and she shifts, the subtle movement of her hips causing her pussy to squeeze me tighter. “Why do you like me, Rhett?” Her rhythm picks up, distracting me for a second.

“Wait, what? Why do I like you? Is that what you asked?” I say the words between panting breaths. I’m close to the edge, and trying not to lose it.

She nods, lifting her arms to push her hair away from her face, thrusting her chest out. Christ, she looks sexy as hell doing that. I’ve never been big on asking for or taking photos of a naked girl I’m with, but right now, I’d like to capture Jensen in this moment.

“I treat you like garbage,” she finally says.

“No, you don’t,” I start to deny, but she rests her fingers across my lips, silencing me.

“Yes,” Jensen says quietly, removing her fingers. “I do.”

I lift my hips, sending myself deep inside her body, and I must nudge a certain spot because her mouth falls open, a little, “Oh,” escaping her lips.

“Maybe I’m just using you,” I tell her, right before I nudge that particular spot again.

Her eyes are glazed over, as if she’s overcome. “For sex?”

“Yeah. Definitely for sex.” I start thrusting faster, hitting that spot again and again. It not only feels amazing for her, but it’s pretty damn amazing for me too. Her body goes lax, like she’s starting to melt, and she collapses over me, her hands clutching my shoulders, her face in mine.

“Oh God, Rhett,” she whispers, her wild eyes unfocused. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t st—”

Her body goes stiff, and then her pussy is clenching and unclenching around my dick, sending me straight into my own orgasm. We come together like some sort of magical movie moment, in the passenger seat of my car with the windows steamed up.

She curls around me when it’s over, her racing heart matching my own, and we lie there together, silent, trying to slow our breathing.

I could fall asleep right now, swear to God. A night of drinking topped off with good sex always puts me right to sleep. My eyes drift closed and I run my fingers up and down Jensen’s bare back, making her shiver.

“That feels nice,” she whispers against my chest.

“You feel nice,” I whisper back.

She sniffs, and I swear she might be…crying? No freaking way. She’s not a crier. Is she? “I’m really not nice, though. Not even close.”

I slip my fingers under her chin and gently force her to lift her head so I can look her in the eye. “What do you even mean? You keep saying stuff, Jens. And I don’t like it.”

Frustration is written all over her face, and she shakes her head, wayward blonde strands falling across her eyes. “I say stuff. I do stuff. I’m a rotten person, Rhett. I’m not nice. I never have been.”

“Come on.” I get ready to give her a short speech about self-esteem or whatever—a little too drunk and sleepy to focus right now, but I’m willing to give it a try—when a bright beam of light suddenly flashes in my darkened car and a loud knock sounds on the roof.

“Open up! Now!”