Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

He hangs a right on the sidewalk. The lights from the bar fade as we walk toward the parking lot beside it. Voices get quieter.

We pass another couple holding hands.

“But you parked at Lacy’s,” I say. “It’s back—”

Luke gives my arm a tug. We move across the parking lot, footsteps crunching in the gravel, until we’re at the side of the building. All shadow back here, and very quiet.

What in the world?

The light of the moon catches on Luke’s eyes.

My stomach drops.

I know that look.

Hand still clasped in mine, he turns my body and presses me up against the building. The wooden slats like knuckles in my back.

Understanding rips through me. So does want.

Jesus, this man knows me. I’d have no problem making love to him right now. Soft and sweet. That fits this part of our story, too.

Instead, Luke is giving me something I asked for. He’s willing to fuck me in public, no questions asked, because he knows it’s on my list. He knows what that list means to me.

He knows the things on that list are pieces of myself I’m picking up, one at a time.

He wants me to put myself back together, because he likes that person. The whole me.

The real me. The one he loves. Urgently.

Intensely.

Is there anything more romantic than that?

My pussy pulses.

I’m still shaking.

Luke guides our joined hands over my head, stepping into my body. I can feel his breath on my face.

With his other hand, he reaches down. Glides his fingertips up the inside of my thigh before they disappear into the gap in my shorts between my leg and my crotch.

He moves right past my thong.

He finds me, letting out a grunt when his fingertips glide through my arousal. Immediately my hips roll into his touch. I already feel desperate. On the edge of a precipice a thousand feet high. I want to fall.

I need it.

People are on the sidewalk. On the other side of this wall, less than a foot away. Anyone could walk out for a smoke and find us.

Luke meets my eyes. His are sharp. So fiery and close I have to look away, up at the sky.

“No,” he snaps, and sinks two thick fingers inside me, quick and quiet, giving me a tug from the inside. “We’re not doin’ this unless you can look me in the eye while it’s happening. Look at me, Gracie. Right fucking now. Look at me.”

I pant at the clap of desire that echoes between my legs at the authoritative rumble of his voice. My God, I am wet.

Painfully, acutely turned on.

I do as he tells me. I meet his gaze.

“You scared?” he murmurs, pressing the pad of his middle finger to the front wall of my pussy. Just where—

“God, Luke, that’s—I like that,” I say, fisting his shirt in my fingers. Holding on for dear life. “You know just what I like.”

He swipes at my clit with his thumb. I gasp. He smirks.

“I pay attention.” He puts his other hand on the siding beside my head, leaning in. Caging me. “I know you, Gracie.”

“You’re sweet,” I breathe. “You were so right about the anticipation being sweet.”

That handsome smirk again.

“What I’m ’bout to do to you isn’t very sweet at all.” He leans in even further, lips brushing against my ear. “Just use the word if it’s too much.”

I’m rolling my hips again, impatient. “I know.”

He presses his erection into my belly with a lewd little dip of his hips.

My hand still on his shirt, I yank him closer. He towers over me, all huge shoulders and clean soap smell, and my desire for him liquefies.

“I’m scared,” I whisper. “And I like it.”

Whatever we’re doing—whatever pervy shit I throw at him—he makes me feel safe. Welcome. Like I’m not crossing any lines because there are no lines between us. It’s wide open space.

His fingers are really moving between my legs now. Catching on my clit, making me close my eyes. Taking me higher. Pushing me closer.

Without warning, he pulls them away.

“What the fuck?” I gasp, eyes flying open. “Don’t you—I’m so—I wanna come, Luke! I’m dying here.”

“You’ll come on my dick.” He unzips his pants and pulls himself out. All savage, confident movements.

Looking up, he reaches for the buttons of my shorts. Rips them through their buttonholes and shoves them down my thighs, along with my underwear.

“Step out of them,” he murmurs against my mouth, licking inside my lips.

I shimmy a little so my shorts and undies fall to my feet. I do as he tells me.

I am naked from the waist down. In public.

The feel of the air against my pussy and ass makes me draw a sharp breath. I glance to the left. Another couple on the sidewalk. Strolling along, unaware that twenty feet away are two desperate, panting animals about to fuck each other into oblivion.