Starry-Eyed Love (Spark House)

“At least thirty minutes with traffic.”

“That’s enough time,” I murmur.

“Enough time for what?” Jackson’s brow furrows.

I hit the release button on my seat belt and straddle his lap. For a moment, he looks shocked, but I fuse my mouth to his and he responds quickly. His hands slide up the outside of my thighs, under my skirt, pushing it up.

“Can the driver hear us?” I whisper-groan.

One of his hands leaves my thigh and music filters through the speakers. He turns up the volume a few notches. “Not anymore.”

“Excellent.” I unclasp his belt buckle and pop the button on his pants. “Do you have a condom handy?”

“There’s one in my wallet.”

“Perfect. I have a great way to keep ourselves entertained on the way back to your place.”

His eyes darken with lust. “I see Frisky London has come out to play.”

“Is she your favorite?” I slip my fingers under the elastic of his boxer shorts, skimming the head of his erection.

His nostrils flare and his eyes flutter closed. He tips his chin up and exhales a low groan before he cracks a lid. “Every version of you is my favorite, but this one is particularly enticing.”

“Hmm.” I wrap my palm around him and smooth my thumb over the crown. “You know, after that time you took me to the estate sale at Harmon’s, I fantasized often about what it would have been like to make out with you in your car.”

“Did you now? Tell me more about that.” He unfastens the buttons on my blouse, one at a time, fingertips skimming the edge of my lace bra.

“It was hard to focus on the conversation and I kept wondering how much of a pretzel I’d have to turn myself into to get into this exact position.”

“We can absolutely find that out the next time I’m in Colorado.”

I continue stroking, my rhythm faltering when he reaches the last button on my shirt and cups my breasts in his palms, thumbs brushing over my nipples, the sensation muted by the lace. “You are exquisite.” He drops his head, lips sweeping along my collarbone, teeth nipping at the swell of my breast before he covers the peak with his mouth and sucks gently.

I thread the fingers of my free hand through his hair, holding him to my breast. “I’ve never had sex in a car before,” I admit.

His gaze lifts, eyes hooded with desire. “That’s about to change.”

He tugs my blouse free from my skirt and carefully removes it, hanging it from one of the hooks on the window.

“You are beyond sexy,” he murmurs, fingers drifting along the edge of my bra, then dropping to my thighs and running up the outside of them, pushing my skirt higher until he exposes my matching panties. His hands shift course, and I suck in a gasp when his thumbs sweep along the seam of my panties.

His tongue drags along his bottom lip as he slips a single finger under the lace at my center and skims my sex.

“Jackson,” I whimper.

“So soft,” he murmurs, and withdraws his hand. He brings his finger to his lips and licks the pad. “And so sweet.” He wraps his hands around my waist. “I think I need another taste of you.”

I shriek when he lifts me off his lap and sets me on the seat beside him. “Shh, we don’t want Clint to know what we’re doing back here.” His mouth covers mine before I can respond and he shifts, laying me out on the back seat, one of his knees settling between mine. He props himself up on one arm and his free hand smooths up the inside of my thigh, fingers dipping under the lace of my panties to stroke my sex. I arch and moan against his lips. His tongue strokes out to meet mine, but he breaks the kiss a moment later and trails more down my neck and over my collarbone. He pulls the lace cup down, freeing a nipple, lapping at it before he continues his descent.

“Jackson.” I grip his hair when he reaches my navel.

“Mmm.” He pushes my skirt up until it bunches around my waist.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He lifts his gaze and one side of his mouth turns up in a mirthful smile. “I’m turning you into a delicious appetizer.”

I laugh, and then sigh as he drags my panties down my legs and sets them on the back of the seat, then drops his head and strokes at me with his tongue. I cover my mouth with my palm and thread my fingers through his hair, as he laps at me, bringing me to orgasm with his mouth, and I bite my palm to keep from making too much noise.

He fumbles with his wallet, dropping it on the floor and I snatch it up, find the condom, and pass it to him, my hands too shaky and my coordination too off to be able to help. He rolls it on, and settles between my thighs, entering me on a slow stroke.