The pulse just beneath her jaw fluttered wildly against my finger. “Of your own free will.”
“Yes, but I can’t make any other choice right now. Not because of a sex hex,” I acknowledged as the cutest wrinkle formed between her brows, “but because you’re the most maddeningly intoxicating woman I’ve ever known. Now shut up so I can kiss you.”
She smiled when our lips met, but that was the last lighthearted moment between us. I slipped my arms around her under her sweater and somehow lifted her into my lap with a minimum of banged knees and flailing arms, and she straddled my legs as if she’d been meant to fit in that very spot, steering wheel in her back and all. She coiled her arms around my neck and our lips refitted together on a long groan, one I was pretty sure we shared.
I couldn’t stop sucking on her tongue, and she kept driving her fingers through my hair, tugging on my scalp with every twist. Her full breasts were mashed against my chest, her nipples hard and tight, and she tasted like a mix of sin, moonshine—the actual moon, not the alcohol—and the peppermint tea she’d had at work.
I wanted to drown in her. To thrust between her legs with every bit of the savage gentleness with which I was attacking her sweet, sexy mouth.
And most especially, to forget a world existed outside what we were like together.
She scraped her nails down the back of my neck and swiveled against me, grinding her cleft against my very insistent cock. The purr of satisfaction she made in her throat gratified me in ways I couldn’t explain.
“You came to play ball.” She nipped my lower lip, her lashes flickering over her sultry eyes. “Sir.”
That single word made me grip her jaw that much more forcefully, my other hand lowering to her breast. It flowed into my palm, full and perfect, and she gasped into the kiss, her mouth battling mine for supremacy. I twisted her nipple and drew on her tongue as she rocked against me, testing us both.
I had to have more of her.
Breathing hard, I pulled back long enough for our gazes to connect. Then I lowered my head and sucked on her nipple like I had her tongue, hating the layers of fabric between us. Lightly, she scratched the back of my neck again, adding those little frissons of pain that made my shaft jerk every damn time. As if she loved pushing me to the very boundaries of my control.
Getting some of my own back, I peeled down her jersey dress and swallowed a groan at the sight of her lacy low-cut red bra. Of course it was sexy. Everything about her was. I nudged that out of my way too and her hard brown nipple was there for the taking.
Using my lips and tongue and teeth, I pulled hard enough to make her pant and squirm against me.
“Fuck, we’re outside.” But she wasn’t pushing me away. If anything, she was clutching me closer, her fingers drawing alluring circles on the back of my neck as I licked and nipped her taut little tip.
“Are you asking to fuck outside? Because we absolutely could. You taste like fucking peaches.”
“So much swearing from such a normally repressed male.”
Her rich, throaty laughter jogged something loose inside me. “You think I’m repressed?” I couldn’t decide if I was insulted or if she was challenging me.
Daring me to prove her wrong.
“Right now? Now I think you’re lust-drunk.”
“And I think you talk too much.”
I slanted my lips over hers, kissing her long and slow before capturing her nipple between my teeth once again. The last rays of the sun sparkled on her crystal necklace, dangling so erotically between her breasts. One of which I hadn’t given any attention yet. I freed the other and swallowed at its sheer perfection before I took her nipple into my mouth.
Her hands returned to my hair as I devoted myself to my task. I was very good at focusing. And from her quickened breathing, she didn’t mind one bit.
Distantly, I heard a meow. Then another. Concern pricked at the edges of my consciousness, but Ryan was moaning now, her nails rough against my scalp as she rode my cock through my trousers.
“I want to taste the rest of you.” She had no idea how close I was to begging.
How close to just pushing back my seat all the way and taking her right here, possible witnesses and potential public embarrassment be damned.
I was burning up for her. My clothes felt too tight. I needed to get out of this tie, this jacket, these freaking torture device pants.
And I needed to get in her. So deep that neither of us could think straight.
Not that we were now.
“Mmm. I think we can arrange—” She turned her head and gasped out a laugh.
Panting, half crosseyed, I turned my head and discovered my new cat sitting on the passenger seat, watching us unrepentantly.