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“My cabin. Or your apartment. No, your apartment is closer.”
The apartment I rarely spent time in these days, since I spent every free moment with Murphy at his place. I didn’t want to go there now. It was small and already felt empty, as if I no longer lived there.
I’d already begun to move on to my future.
I squeezed his hand. God, I hoped.
He drew me up the street to where his truck was parked near the bed and breakfast. Even in his rush, he didn’t just unlock it and move toward the driver’s side. Oh, no, he opened my door first and would have waited while I got inside and belted in.
If I hadn’t climbed in and turned to him standing beside the open passenger door, then reached for him with my arms and legs, wrapping both around him while he let out a startled “oof,” and met my mouth with his own.
I lost track of time. Of place. I barely felt the cramps in my inner thighs from the awkward way I’d coiled around him like a horny snake. But I didn’t miss how his hand anchored in my hair or the firm press of his lips as he matched my eagerness and returned even more.
My Murphy who wasn’t into PDAs was definitely giving as good as he got tonight.
Somehow I pulled back to pant against his throat. “Drive up the street. Pull off by the Paulson’s boat launch.”
He didn’t argue with me, just stepped back to touch his fingers to his mouth where I’d practically kissed him raw. His smile made me smile back stupidly, before he tucked my dress around my legs and gently nudged them inside. I still hadn’t reached for my belt when he shut my door.
Or when he came around to start the truck. I wasn’t quite able to move.
I was in some kind of dazed love-pre-sex coma and could only keep right on smiling as he drove the short distance up the street and pulled over where I’d indicated near a shady grove of trees.
Wasn’t the stealthiest of makeout spots—or let’s be real, fucking spots, because I wasn’t intending to stop with just a cop and a feel—but it would probably do without us getting arrested.
And if I was wrong, I’d pay that fine with pride.
He shifted toward me and I covered his mouth with my finger. “Ease back your seat.”
No arguments once again. Hallelujah.
Once he had, I climbed astride his lap more than a little awkwardly. The windows were already getting foggy, and I was glad no one would be able to see me try to be seductive as I wedged my ass on his lap and tried to shift so the steering wheel didn’t bruise me to shit.
And oh, hello there, happy cock. I missed you.
“Did you just call my cock happy?” His laugh was strangled.
“Was I talking out loud? Whoops. More like your cock makes me happy.” I kissed him and rubbed up against it without the slightest ounce of hesitation, sliding my dress up between us so he could feel just how wet I was. Since my panties were basically a scrap of nothing and I was suddenly very pleased with that fact.
“Jesus.”
“That again?” I grinned and steadied myself on his shoulders, watching his face as I rocked up and down. “Do you have condoms?”
He nodded and tipped back his head. “In my wallet. Back pocket. If I move, I’m probably going to come, so not doing that.”
“No, you aren’t.” I nipped his lower lip and savored the sound he made.
I could live on each one of them. Just store them up like oxygen.
“You have one?”
“Nope.” I did, actually, and would use it if he wanted me to.
Oh, wait, no, I didn’t. My purse was back in the restaurant. I frowned. Oh, crap.
Then I looked at the backseat and saw it lying there, as if it had been thrown onto that spot. Not by me.
“You saved my purse.”
