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He grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged her head back until her face was tipped toward the sky. “Gonna bend you over your cage and fuck you.”
“As long as you don’t scratch my paint.”
“It’ll buff out.”
“You scratch my paint and I’ll use your balls to buff it out,” she warned, pulling away from him. She pulled her key fob out of the front pocket of her jeans and her parking lights flashed when she unlocked the Hyundai.
He stood there watching her hips rock and roll as she headed toward it.
His heart stopped and he almost lunged for her when her heel got caught in some loose stone and she almost did a nose dive. “Why the fuck do you wear those fuckin’ useless high-heeled boots on a damn farm?”
“Because I’m supposed to wear boots on the run.”
“Not boots like that.” She was going to break her goddamn neck one of these times.
She shrugged. “I like them.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, waiting for the irritation about those fucking boots almost killing her to fade away. When it did, he opened his eyes and saw her sitting sideways in the driver’s seat as she took off the damn things. She chucked them over to the passenger side, then stood outside the vehicle and began to shimmy out of her skin-tight jeans.
That took a while and a few grunts from her. But eventually she succeeded in getting them rolled down, over her feet and flung onto the driver’s seat.
Her ivory skin glowed in the dark and was like a homing beacon for him. He wanted to taste every inch of her flesh. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t happen tonight.
Tonight was just a quick reminder of who she belonged to. That was all. They’d have to find another opportunity where they could take their time and do it the way they wanted it.
As she reached for her thong, he said, “Leave it on.”
She stepped away from the cage, quietly shut the driver’s door and said, “Now what?”
The head of his dick was now sticking to his boxer briefs because of precum leaking while watching her do that awkward striptease that was what. He wanted her totally naked but knew that wasn’t practical out here behind the shed.
This was only supposed to be a quickie, he reminded himself.
They hadn’t had sex since yesterday morning and even though it wasn’t even forty-eight hours later, to him it felt like forever.
“Face the cage, lean over the fender and lemme see what you’re offerin’.”
Since she was barefoot, she took a couple careful steps to the front of the Hyundai and turned to face it.
He waited for her to finish following his instructions. For a second, he thought she wouldn’t. That she’d be her typical Reilly-self and argue about the position and how she wanted to do it her way.
It shocked the shit out of him when she didn’t say a damn word. Instead, she stepped up to the fender, planted both hands on the hood and slowly, ever so fucking slowly, leaned over the front of her cage.
Christ. His dick now had its own heartbeat and it was pounding as if he’d just sprinted across one of the fields.
He wished the sun was out and he could see her clearly. Because he was sure it was one hell of a display in the light.
As he moved toward her, he began to unbuckle his belt, to unfasten his jeans, to yank down his zipper. He slipped his belt from the loops and placed it on the ground nearby so it not only wouldn’t scratch her paint, but so it wouldn’t clang against the metal giving away what they were doing, similar to a squeaky box spring.
He shrugged out of his cut and folded it inside out to prevent it from scratching her paint and placed it carefully on the hood.
When he moved behind her, he glued his gaze to the pale globes of her ass that he swore reflected the moonlight.
“Goddamn perfect,” came out of him without thought.
“I—”
He cut her off. “Perfect and all fuckin’ mine. No one else’s, Reilly. You hear me? No one.”
She sucked in a sharp, audible breath.
“Tell me,” he demanded, sliding his palm over the soft curves of her exposed ass.
It took a few seconds for her to answer but when she did, she said, “Yours.”
“What is?”
“Me.”
Fuck yeah. “How much?”
“All of me.”
“Whose sled will you be ridin’ on?”
“Yours.”
“Whose dick?”
“Yours.”
“Whose name’s gonna be on your lips when you come?”
“Yours.”
Fuck yeah.
He quickly dug into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and slipped out a wrap. He unhooked the wallet’s chain from his belt loop and tossed it on the ground next to the belt so it wouldn’t cause damage, either.
He shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down far enough to free his dick, ripped open the wrap and after a couple of strokes, rolled it down his length.
