I slam my mouth over hers, swallowing the explanations she doesn’t owe me. When we part, she’s fidgety and keeps glancing around the parking lot.

Shelby's smiles are usually sunlight melting my frosty corpse heart. But tonight, her face is tight. Strained. Is she tired? Not thrilled to see me?

Headlights sweep over the parking lot and the van honks twice as it drives away.

I hold her door open, my hungry eyes roaming every inch of her. A hint of her lemon-sugar scent teases my nose. I fit my hands on her waist and boost her into the truck.

“Rooster.”

One more kiss, then we’ll get going. She twists in her seat so her boots are resting on the running board. Her dress grazes her knees, hiding enough to annoy me. I step closer, slide my hands up her legs, under her dress, until my hands are on her hips.

She tilts her head to the side. “What’re you doing?”

“I need another kiss.” The pull is too strong to ignore. I push my big body between her knees and she squeezes my sides. I brush my nose along her temple to inhale her sweet scent again.

She loops her arms around my neck. “So kiss me.”

I brush my lips over hers. She lets out a sharp sound that ratchets up my need for her. Her tongue flicks against mine.

“Shelby,” I groan, barely leaving her lips.

She lets out a softer moan, clinging to me tighter.

How does this woman always taste so good?

A wild need-to-have-her-now fever consumes me. We’re a tangle of limbs and clothes, and too many car parts in the way, but I finally squeeze my big body into the front seat with her and slam the door shut, locking it.

Shelby wastes no time straddling my lap. I run my hands up under her dress again, savoring every inch of skin. My fingers tease the edge of her underwear, trace the small of her back.

“Fuck, I really didn’t plan to do this in the parking lot,” I mumble as I kiss a path from Shelby’s ear to her neck. “You smell so good. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She gathers her dress in her hands, tugging it up even higher so I catch a glimpse of peach thong. “Why do you think I’m wearin’ a dress at midnight instead of my jammy pants?”

“Clever girl.” I fumble with the top button of her dress, torn between getting my mouth on her tits but not wanting to leave her exposed in case someone knocks on the truck window.

I slip my hands under her dress, shoving it up around her waist. “I love how perfectly you fit in my hands.”

She presses her palms to my cheeks and swoops in for another kiss. Her hips roll, crushing her soft center against my hard cock. I thrust up, giving her something to really grind against and groan. I haven’t ached for a woman this painfully in years. Maybe ever.

“We can do foreplay later.” She reaches for my belt. “I want you inside me.”

“Not arguing.” I suck in a stuttering breath as she frees my cock and wraps her fingers around me. “Fuck.”

I’m so wild for her, my hands get tangled in the long fabric of her dress and the tiny strap of her underwear.

“Logan, wait.” She groans as I rub between her legs.

“You’re so wet.” I continue exploring, slipping my fingers underneath the tiny strip of satin between her thighs.

She rocks her hips back and forth. Short, quick movements, chasing the friction of my hand. “I…I know.”

Her plush little body radiates heat. That thong’s so damn tiny, I can slip it to the side. No reason for her to leave my body for a second. I dig my fingers into her hip, pulling her closer.

Oh fuck, I need to be inside her.

She braces her hand against my chest, pushing me away. “Condom, condom,” she chants.

Well, fuck.

This is the first time I’ve ever completely forgotten about wrapping my dick. “I, uh. Are you on the pill or something?”

She stops cold.

That’s not good. “What’s wrong?”

Her body trembles as she tries to shift off my lap.

I clamp down on her hips harder. “No. Talk to me.”

Having this conversation with my naked dick so close to her soaked pussy isn’t the wisest choice.

“That’s a deal-breaker for me.”

Huh?

“I’m terrified of getting pregnant,” she adds.

Why are we talking about—oh, right.

“Okay.” I’m having trouble clearing the fog of lust from my head and catching up.

“I’m serious,” she says. “It would ruin my career right now. And—I can’t take the chance.”

“Hey, shh. I hear you.” I run my hand over her shoulder, cupping the back of her head and sliding my fingers in her hair. Dragging her closer until we’re almost nose-to-nose, I stare into her wild eyes. “I don’t want to clip your wings, chickadee. Promise.”

“Logan,” she whispers.

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