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“Do you… Should I…?” Thoughts and words are half-formed as I detach one of my hands from its death grip and finger the top button of his jeans.
The hand that isn’t playing me like an expert grabs my wrist. He draws my palm up to his mouth, holding my eyes as he shakes his head before running his tongue over the meaty part at the base of my thumb.
“This is for you. All for you.”
Who can complain about that? When he releases my wrist, I lean forward, pressing my body into his, tucking myself into his hard chest. It’s that pressure, the connection of us touching in so many places, that has my insides tightening in eagerness.
Cole grips me to him, his hold so engulfing that I find myself restrained. All I can do is pant and feel the steady circular movement of his touch on my clit.
“You gonna come for me? You like me stroking your pussy?”
Send me to the archives of Hell. His dirty talk starts an erotic tremble in my muscles.
“I want… I want…”
“Tell me. I’ll give it to you.”
“Inside,” is all I can gasp out, but he picks up on my meaning.
His vise around my waist loosens, and his second hand sneaks between my legs. One, then two fingers push into me. A satisfied moan mixes with the wet noises of him entering me.
“Fuck, Summer. You’re soaking. This all for me?”
My head nods on its own. I shouldn’t like the possessiveness in his voice, but my brain is stewing in a hot tub of lust, and the idea of Cole owning a part of me turns the heat higher.
He tilts his head, then a lot of things happen at once.
His tongue traces the shell of my ear.
His thumb and forefinger gently pinch my clit.
His fingers curl inside me.
I come apart in a torrent of pleasure.
A yelp leaves my throat, and as all my muscles clench and pulsate with my orgasm, my whimpers fill the cab of his truck. Damn, I sound like I’m about to start sobbing.
When I come down from my high, we’re both breathing heavy. Cole’s fingers are still inside me, as if he’s loath to leave.
And as the bliss of orgasm clears from my mind, a blush I can’t fight off infuses my face.
That just happened. It wasn’t some sexy daydream I had on my lunch break.
Cole Allemand just fingered me in his truck while whispering dirty words in my ear.
Dragging in a deep breath, I sit up and eye the passenger seat, trying to figure out the best way to maneuver back into it.
“Summer?”
“Hmm?” My eyes have trouble meeting Cole’s.
Where did all my confidence go? Was it fueled solely by my sex drive?
“You okay?”
“Me? Of course! Super great. Full of endorphins. Could probably run a marathon!” While avoiding his gaze, I spot the tightening at the corners of his mouth.
This is getting awkward. I’m making it awkward. But what did I expect when I jumped on the idea of hooking up with a bad boy? That I’d somehow be chill about it? That I could act nonchalant?
