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“I’m serious.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“I’m not. I’d never lie about my teenage dreams. I take them very sseriously. In fact,” he said, beginning to kiss his way down her throat, “I’ve already fulfilled most of them.” He eased his broad hands underneath her shoulder blades, the contrast of his rough palms to her soft skin, his bigness to her smallness, making her feel feminine and desirable.
“I designed an undetectable rootkit, visited Africa, went sky-diving …” His mouth traveled lower, holding her where he wanted her as his tongue traced a lazy circle around one nipple. “… studied k-kick-boxing, hiked part of the Appalachian Trail …”
He paused with her nipple held gently between his teeth, and she whine-moaned in happy frustration. ?
?Really, the only things I hadn’t done were the c-car-sex thing and you. Now I get to do both at once.”
He sucked and bit, and she died and came back to life.
“That’s so romantic,” she said when she could speak again. “Getting banged in the back of an SUV so you can check me off your bucket list.”
“Want a rose, sweetie? Should I recite you a p-poem?” He eased his way lower, kissing down her stomach. The heat of his breath on her cool flesh gave her goose bumps.
“No, thanks. Though if you gave me your letter jacket, I could spread it underneath me and make this a little more comfortable.” The carpet actually wasn’t half bad, though the stowhandle for one seat bit into her lower back.
“Sorry. I’d give you my academy blazer if I’d actually guh-gone to the academy.”
“I could never have sex on a blazer. It’s against my principles.”
Sean had made it to her waist, and he tugged at her jeans. “Get these things off,” he ordered. “They’re in the way of my annihilating your principles.”
She gave it a try, pulling her legs up carefully so as not to knee him in the crown jewels, then shoving and wiggling and cursing the tight denim while he kneeled over her and watched with that fantastic, world-rocking grin on his face.
When she finally freed her ankles, she was sweaty and breathing hard. Sean reached down, worked open the button on his jeans, and unzipped.
“You don’t even have to take those off, do you? Lucky bastard.”
He pushed down the waistband of his briefs and pulled himself out, studying her naked body as he made his cock harder with slow, lazy strokes. She could actually feel her throat turn pink, the flush of arousal radiating out from between her legs and washing her skin in heat.
“I’m p-pretty sure I’m the luckiest bastard alive,” Sean agreed. “Have you been wearing those p-panties all day?”
Katie raised herself up on her elbows and looked down. She’d forgotten about the panties. There was a Union Jack on her crotch. The bra had the Stars and Stripes, but the bra was long gone.
“Why, are you an Anglophile?”
“I am now.”
His eyes had taken on a wild, predatory quality, and the thrill of being his object of interest amped up her arousal another notch. She hadn’t known what to expect sex with Sean to be like. Her experiences began and ended with one man—one and a half, if you counted what she’d done with Judah—but if she’d had to guess before she went over to Sean’s room last night, she would have predicted a certain amount of awkward fumbling in the dark.
She wouldn’t have imagined this ease with him. Couldn’t have known it would be quite so much fun.
He was different now than he’d been with her before, teasing and easygoing, but with all that hard, flinty control that so intrigued her.
She wanted to dismantle it. To make him lose his mind.
“Take off your sweater,” she said.
Sean pulled the thin wool crewneck over his head, shedding his T-shirt along with it. The harsh LEDs of the dome light turned his skin white as marble, but it felt hot under her fingertips. She rose to an awkward sitting position, bracing her weight on one hand behind her as she found his hipbone with her tongue.
“If a police car goes by, we’re going to get arrested,” she said. Her free hand circled the base of his cock and squeezed. “Public indecency.”
That they were visible to the night and whatever it contained only gave an illicit edge to her enjoyment. This was the torrid, inadvisable thing she’d been craving. She imagined what they looked like from outside, the snow swirling around the black mass of the car and their two bodies in the light.
She’d once been his fantasy. He wanted her, and she wanted him, and they were both stupid with it. She could hardly believe he could be so funny and sexy and kind, when just a few days ago she’d thought him cold.
