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Elle turned her head so she could whisper, “What’s happening?”
“Libby hates shoot-’em-up movies.” I nipped at her bottom lip, my hands tightening on her thighs when she relaxed against me and sighed.
God, this girl.
It hadn’t been long into the first movie before her worries about being in the room had faded.
Guess I could thank Diggs for that too since he’d come back to talk to her every ten minutes. Getting closer and closer until Elle had gone from sitting beside me to being between my legs with my arms tight around her.
Sometime near the end, hands had started searching, and I’d pulled her onto my lap, her mouth parting for me when I’d begged entrance.
It’d been like high school all over again, and I was pretty damn sure I was having the best night of my life.
She pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, turning when gunfire sounded through the speakers, filling the room. Her chest moved with her muted laugh. “Killed two guys in the first five seconds. Very telling. Very different from Libby’s vote.”
Also extremely loud.
And I knew from experience it would put Libby to sleep and hold the guys’ attention. Which meant Diggs would stop wandering back here.
I went back to trailing my fingers up and down Elle’s thighs, every few passes going higher than the last now that I knew we’d be left alone—every few passes barely catching the hitch in her breathing when I did.
She gripped the edge of the blanket that covered us tighter, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip when my fingers brushed the inside of her thighs. And then again. But her eyes never once left the screen.
On the next pass up her legs, she shifted, spreading them wider for me in a silent plea and the greatest tease. Because that movement had caused her to rock against me, and it was torture not to respond the way I wanted to.
I slid my hand higher into her shorts and was teasing the edge of her underwear when she did it again—that slight rocking that made my need for her grow. That made me forget where we were. That made me forget everything else except for her.
She glanced over her shoulder, her heated eyes locking with mine when I moved my hands away to grab her hips.
Hooking my fingers in the band of her shorts, I started dragging them and her underwear down.
“Dare . . .” She gripped at my hands through the blanket that covered her, her voice hesitant, unsure.
I nipped at her jaw. “I won’t let anyone see you, Firefly.”
Holding my stare, she released my hands and lifted her hips to let me slip the fabric off her. A groan sounded in my chest when she sat on my growing erection, rocking her ass harder against it and letting a whimper escape her parted lips.
I gripped her hips, pressing her harder against me for a few seconds before I moved my hands to spread her legs.
“You okay?”
She nodded, her breaths growing rougher.
“Tell me.”
“I’m okay,” she whispered, a soft cry sliding up her throat when I trailed my fingers along her sex. “Oh God.”
Her head dropped back to my shoulder when I pressed a finger inside her, her hands gripped my hips when I pushed in another.
“Still okay?” I asked, my voice gruff with the need to sink into this girl.
“Yes.”
True.
I held my other hand to her stomach, keeping her from arching too far away and keeping her ass pressed firmly against me as she rode my fingers. A shiver tore through her when my thumb found her clit, her whimpers and moans getting lost in the yelling and gunfire from the movie.
“Stop.” Her voice was a throaty mixture of pleasure and need. “Stop, I’m going—oh, God. I’m going . . .”
