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The soft moan that escapes from the back of my throat is unintentional.
Tyler breaks away from the kiss suddenly to look up at me. His gaze is molten, his breathing shallow. A curse slips out under his breath, and then he’s diving into me again. The hand that was on my hip shifts to the small of my back, and he pulls my body forward, flush to his, until I can feel his hard length pressed against the apex of my thighs. He rolls his hips into mine.
I don’t know if this is all intended to be part of the act anymore, but this more aggressive, dominant version of Tyler is intoxicating, and I give myself over to the situation without thought for consequences, reveling in the feel of his strength and his warmth and his intensity, my fingertips trembling as they crawl across his stubbled jaw, along the rigid lines of his collarbones, down over the hard planes of his chest and stomach.
Down farther, slipping beneath my dress, my hand moving in between us, my palm smoothing over what makes him so utterly male.
With a sharp inhale, his hand is suddenly there between us, too, working its way into my panties. His fingers deftly push into me, and he curses again. It’s been so long since I’ve let a man touch me like this, and I can’t remember when I wanted anyone this much. The responding gasp would be embarrassing if I wasn’t aching to feel the rest of him inside me. Right now.
I vaguely recall how this started, but the reason no longer matters, as Tyler’s frantic mouth works over mine with skill, and I fumble with his belt and jeans, unfastening them in a rush, before either of us comes to our senses. He lifts his hips and pushes his own pants down.
Beneath the cover of my dress, I wrap my hand around his smooth, warm length. He groans as I stroke him, my thumb sliding over the bead of moisture pooling at his tip. If I’m the first woman he’s kissed since Mila passed, then surely I’m also the first to touch him like this.
“Is anyone out here?” he whispers, his voice strained.
I break from his mouth to check the back window. “No. No one.” The parking lot is full of vehicles and empty of people, and even if it isn’t, unless someone is climbing into the adjacent truck, they’re not likely to notice us here.
No one is heading this way.
Our breaths are heady and ragged, our chests heaving as we check each other’s eyes. For signs of hesitancy, or insanity, I don’t know, but I’m hit with an overwhelming sense that it’s now or never.
“I need you.” It slips out, goaded by the fact that the only thing between us right now is a thin slip of cotton underwear.
He smooths a hand over my cheek, and then he’s kissing me again.
Kissing me while he pulls me onto my knees to work my panties down. I help by sliding them off one leg, freeing me to shift my body forward. His bare thighs are hot against mine as he reaches between us.
We moan in tandem as he pushes inside me, our lips stalling as our hips work against each other, the delicious stretch of my body pulling sounds I can’t contain. My hands curl around his thick neck, my thumbs stroking his jawline as I slide on and off him in a steady rhythm, acutely aware that we don’t have the luxury of time, chasing after that high building in my core.
Finally, I catch it, and a sweet throbbing pleasure erupts inside me moments before Tyler himself does. The cry that escapes him is deep and primal, and if there were anyone within ten car lengths, they would’ve heard that.
Tyler’s breathing is as ragged as mine as he lets his head fall back and closes his eyes. “I think it’s safe now.”
I laugh, and the simple muscle spasm reminds me that he’s still seated deeply inside me. The last thing I feel right now is safe. My body buzzes with adrenaline, the relief that I should be feeling over avoiding a confrontation with Jonah overshadowed by the fact that Tyler and I just had sex.
In the Ale House parking lot.
“Thank you.” It stumbles out.
His soft chuckle fills the truck’s interior with warmth. “I can’t say I’ve ever been thanked for that before.” He cracks his eyelids. “You look as shocked as I feel.”
“I can’t believe we just did that.” I’m thirty-eight years old and I have a reputation to think about. What the hell came over me?
“It’s been awhile for me. A bit relieved to know everything still works.” He’s made no move to shift me from his lap, though his grip on my hips has loosened.
