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versation.”
I gape at him because I’m pretty sure he just quoted Plato.
“I was raised in a way I appreciate the small shit.” He looks at me pointedly and it’s then I understand his point fully. I saw the house he grew up in, and it screamed of poverty and neglect. He let me see it. My heart melts some at both his spoken and unspoken admissions as he makes a sudden turn and skids to park, cutting off his lights, leaving us shrouded in partial moonlight.
I lean up to peer through the windshield and see a crescent moon hovering above us. “Come here,” the order is whispered at my neck as he grips me and pulls me to straddle him, stealing the attention of the moon. I grin down at him as he slinks down in his seat, making enough room for us to fit comfortably between his seat and the steering wheel. The look he’s giving me is enough to make me forget myself. I lean in to claim his lips and he turns his head, dodging my kiss.
“He likes the red,” he runs his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck down to the ends and repeats the movement, his touch enchanting.
Something about the comment twists me. In just seconds alone with Dominic, I’d forgotten Sean’s request not to smudge my lips. I try and squelch the guilt as Dominic’s touch travels, inching beneath my T-shirt before he strokes lightly along the waistband of my jeans. The low ache his touch brings ignites the fire in my veins as he gazes up at me, always watching, but relaxed. The pull is undeniable, but he stills my every attempt to touch him, be it by the squeeze on my flesh beneath his fingers or the jerk of his head before he resumes his torture, caressing me everywhere but where I want him.
“How long have you known each other?” I rasp out while his hands roam up my back past my bra line, cupping my shoulder blades, further warming my skin.
“Most of our lives.”
“That close?” I say, rocking a little on his cock, feeling the bulge growing beneath me. The friction is delicious. I can’t help but rotate my hips for more. His eyes heat in response, but he makes no move to do anything about it.
“We’re all close.”
“Apparently so.”
Sudden and loud rumbling drowns out the chirping crickets just before I get an eyeful of cars speeding past Dom’s shoulder. We must have been flying if they’re just now catching up, or Dominic must’ve known a short cut. “They’re leaving us.”
“We left them.” In the shadow created by the half-moon hovering above, I study him. His eyes glint like pools of silver even under the cover of night, his high cheekbones casting twin shadows on his jaw, his lush lips lit fully, taunting me.
“And we left them because?”
“Because,” he lifts up as if he’s going to kiss me, his breath hitting my lips. I brace myself for the feel of it, closing my eyes and leaning in, and then feel his absence. Opening my eyes, I see he’s again resting against his seat, a knowing smirk on his lips.
“You’re an asshole.”
“That’s not news. Anything else you need to know?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Sure, you do.” He thrusts up just so, the friction maddening, rendering me senseless.
“You described most red-blooded men,” I pant. “Cold beer? Ah,” he thrusts up again and this time I feel how hard he’s become, and my blood boils. “Fast cars? Black coffee? Runny eggs and…”
“And?” He prompts.
I can’t hide my smile despite the insatiable hunger he’s drawing from me. “Me.”
“Then you know enough.” He lifts my shirt, revealing my bare breasts, I went braless tonight, and I feel him physically tense when he discovers it a second before he sucks a nipple into his mouth. Panties soaked, I clutch his head to me as he feeds, rocking my hips over his erection, picking up speed.
“Dom,” I murmur as his fingers explore and he bites my nipple before he soothes it with his tongue. When he pulls away, I’m near orgasm, but he lowers my shirt and stills my hands before again running his fingers through my hair.
“That was cruel,” I whine, my body on fire.
“We’ll have to pick this up—later.” With that, he nudges me up enough to grip my hips, easily lifting and placing me back into the seat next to him before he starts the car, backing up the way we came. Intentional or not, I feel the brush of his fingers on my hand just before we speed off in the direction of the others.
WELL-ORCHESTRATED ANARCHY.
That’s the only way to describe it when we pull in. A slew of cars are parked in a circle around a story-high, raging bonfire. The rest outline a large clearing surrounded by a forest. Kegs are hauled off trucks by some while others wait ready, tossing bags of ice around them. Music blares from the speakers of a truck as a few more cars pull up and empty. Fifty heads, at a minimum, most gathered in small groups as if there’s some social protocol amongst them.
“Please give me a straight answer, what in the hell is this?” I ask Dominic as he surveys the yard, pulling dead center into the circle where just enough space was left as if it’s his rightful place in the lineup.
“Just a gathering of friends.”
