Work Me Up

“Ah, ah.” I slide my hand out of her jeans, and she lets out a frustrated little whine of disappointment. “You’re not getting off that easy,” I tell her, winking and stepping back. She whirls to face me, her whole top half flushed, her jeans unbuttoned, looking an absolute, glorious fucking mess. As she’s staring, I raise my hand to my mouth, and slowly, my eyes never leaving hers, I suck her juices from my fingers.

Fuck.

She tastes even better than she smells. Sweet and a little salt. Like sex and woman and white hot lust. And she’s right here, chest heaving, staring at me, at the tip of my fingers—literally, a moment ago—waiting for me to do whatever the hell I want to her. I know how hungry she is right now. I know she’ll do anything.

“Take off your jeans,” I tell her.

She can play the game just as well as I can. She keeps her gaze locked on mine, searing through me, as she slowly undoes the zip the rest of the way. She makes a point to wriggle her hips as she slides out of the jeans, letting them pool around her feet before she steps out of them.

“Panties too,” I say, but she sets her jaw hard.

“You first.” She arches an eyebrow. “Shirt and jeans have got to go.”

I grin. But fair’s fair, after all. So I grab the hem of my shirt and yank it up and over my head, tossing it into one corner. Her eyes go straight to my chest, and I smirk, watching her study the muscles, as if she’s counting every single one of my six-pack.

“What’s the matter, never seen all these before?” I lift one eyebrow at her.

“Not really,” she replies, surprising me with the truth. This girl has a way of doing that. Of being so walled-off and defensive when anyone else would be open and normal, but then opening up at moments like these, right when I least expect it.

She’s the kind of girl who could never get boring, I’m sure of that much, at least.

“Come on,” she eggs, with the kind of grin that no one in his right mind could possibly say no to. “Jeans too.” Then she hooks a thumb under the side of her panties, toying with that delicate, lacy fabric. “Or don’t you want me to lose these?”

I’ve never taken off my pants so fast in my fucking life. I drop them beside us, kick them out of the way, and then I refuse to wait any longer. I advance, pinning her against the side of the car, her warm, soft body pressed up against mine, so fucking soft, everywhere that I’m hard.

“My turn,” I say, my voice so low it’s nearly a growl. But I can feel her react, feel her breath catch with her chest pressed up against mine, and I’m close enough to watch the way her irises flare wide with desire.

“Your turn,” she agrees, her voice barely a breath, before I dip to claim her mouth with mine, kissing her harder than before, sucking at her lower lip, nipping gently at the skin until she gasps.

All the while, my hands follow the curve of her, from her breasts down the taper of her waist and back out to the flare of her hips, before I arch them up and over, under the slim hemline of those barely-there panties, and down to grip her ass tightly in both fists.

Fuck, she has an incredible ass.

One that tightens as she arches her hips against mine, grinding into me. And fuck, there’s only the few tiniest scraps of fabric separating us, her lacy panties and my boxers, so she’s practically grinding right against my cock, which presses against her belly, the soft rise of her mound.

“Someone’s eager,” I say softly, my voice filled with amusement.

“I noticed,” she replies, arching an eyebrow. Then, as if to demonstrate, she does a slow roll of her hips, pushing her body more firmly against my rock hard cock.

I feather her jawline with kisses, soft and light, to keep myself under control . Until I reach her ear, where my lips brush against the sensitive skin there as I whisper, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

She shivers, then, and the motion fucking kills me, pressed up as she is against my hard shaft. But I don’t give her time to recover, or to distract me again. In one easy motion, I hook my thumb around her panties and jerk them down. The moment they’re over her hips, they fall to the floor quickly, so I can slide one hand between her thighs.

She’s soaked.

“Thirsty girl,” I point out, my gaze fixed on hers, filled with heat.

She makes a little noise in the back of her throat that I take for encouragement, and I spread the lips of her pussy with my fingertips, pressing the tip in to stroke along her slit. At the same time, I and tug my boxers down, stepping out of them.