Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club 3)

“Are you warm enough?” he murmured into the side of my neck.

“I’m fine.” I was lying. I was going to rattle apart. I both did and didn’t want his hands to touch me everywhere.

“You’re shivering,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, stronger. I swallowed, although my mouth was dry, and closed my eyes when he sucked on my neck. The sensation surged through my center and the trembling intensified. Oh, God. I fisted his shirt in my hands and arched my back, shoving my breasts in his face.

He continued his wordless taunting. Joseph’s hands roamed over my thighs, up my back, cupping my neck, but never strayed to where I made it obvious I wanted them.

“Are you going to touch me, old man?” I’d hoped it would irritate him like his little girl comments irritated me, but he chuckled.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked. “Then say it.”

Couldn’t he just take control? I’d fallen into a pattern with Ross not to speak unless I specifically didn’t like something.

“I . . . want you to touch me.”

“Where?”

The sound of frustration slipped out before I could gag it. Joseph pulled back from me, his gaze focused and intense.

“If I could read your mind,” he said, “I’d have done it. I like communication, M. Tell me where you want me to put my fucking hands.”

Oh my God. My brain emptied of thought. “Wherever you want,” I blurted out.

His eyebrow yanked up, and his sexy mouth widened into a smile, like I’d just said the best thing he’d ever heard.

“Turn around. Put your hands on the steering wheel.”

Turn around? His car had less room than a gym locker. Yet, I tried without question or protest. It was awkward. I moved clumsily and he got an elbow to the face, but with his help, I turned to sit in his lap, my back against his chest.

“Well,” I said breathlessly, “that was sexy.”

He laughed lightly, and then pulled the sides of his coat around me, wrapping me in his arms. It was sweet and unexpected.

“I told you,” I whispered. “I’m not—”

He tugged the neck of my shirt to the side and set his mouth on the newly exposed skin. I shuddered as warm breath washed over me. My head lolled back, resting on his shoulder while he feasted on my flesh, moving along the sensitive skin toward my ear.

“And I told you, hands on the wheel.” His tone wasn’t playful. It was controlling and exciting. The smooth, leather-wrapped steering wheel was cold in my fingers.

I moaned when his hands closed tightly on my breasts. His touch was confident, and why wouldn’t it be? I’d given him permission. Beneath me, his hard-on dug into my ass.

“Is this where you wanted me to touch you? Your tits?”

My head spun at the unaccustomed word. I grew drunk off of the sensations as he pinched and massaged, the tip of his nose caressing the edge of my ear.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” I gasped. I shifted in his lap and he groaned. The growl from him was sexy, and a muscle low in my stomach clenched.

“Fuck,” he hissed when I did it again. The engine roared abruptly and a tight laugh rang out. “Whoops.”

Because his foot had accidentally hit the accelerator. My face warmed, enjoying that I’d caused that reaction from him. Then, one of his hands abandoned my breast and shot between my legs.

“Oh!”

He bit down on my neck the same moment he stroked me through my jeans. His hand moved up and down in slow strokes, increasing pressure with each pass. I tried to close my legs but he widened his, and since my legs were on top, his action kept mine open.