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“I know.”
Tears came to my eyes before I could think better of it, and I swiped at them.
“You’re crying,” he said with concern lacing his voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Oh,” he whispered. “Well, good.”
I laughed through the tears. “Yeah, you did good.”
He tugged me forward into a swift kiss. “Also, you can go ahead and recite all the lines to me as they happen.”
“What?” I asked. “I’m not that bad!”
“You forget that I’ve seen this movie with you before.”
I huffed, but it was good-natured. “Fine. You asked for it though.”
We both laughed until someone behind us shushed us. I smothered my laughter and stared up at the screen. And then I was entranced as my favorite movie played on the big screen. I didn’t know how many times I’d seen it, but I never got tired of it. There were a dozen other old films that I considered my favorites, but there was something about Casablanca. Something about the wistfulness of the romance, the melancholic ending. I loved it all.
I was crying again by the time the credits rolled.
Maddox and I stayed in our seats while everyone else filed out of the theater. I watched until the reel ended and then sighed.
“I’ll never get tired of it.”
“It’s one of the best of all time for a reason. I wish they still made movies like this.”
I laughed. “Nah, they could never do this again today. We’ve moved forward. We just need to be willing to take chances.”
“Are we still talking about film?”
“I don’t know. Are we?”
He smirked. “Come on.”
He took my hand, and then we were rushing back out of the theater and to his truck. I was barely inside when his hands were on me, sliding me hard across the leather seat. Our mouths collided with a desperation I’d been holding back all day. I’d had fun at the beach. It had been magic to see my favorite movie in a theater. But I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t been thinking about where exactly this night would end.
Despite the incredible kiss right before freshman year and the parties we’d attended and the line we’d toed at the time, we’d never made it all the way. It was as if we were both waiting for the right time, the perfect moment. And then it had never happened. Because moments were what you made of them. I damn well was not wasting this one.
I pushed myself into his lap. My legs came on either side of his, straddling him. A honk came from the steering wheel, and I gasped, ducking my head.
Maddox laughed into my hair and then lifted my head back to look at him. I saw desire swirl in his dark irises right before his lips descended on me again. I settled against his lap. The hem of my skirt pushed up to the top of my thighs, and I could feel exactly what I was doing to him through his shorts.
“Fuck,” he groaned as I tugged his bottom lip into my mouth and ground my hips against him.
“Yes, please,” I whispered.
His hands came to my hips, forcing me down harder. “Josie, I …”
“We should get back to your place.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do I seem unsure?” I asked as I swiveled my hips hard against his cock.
He smirked. “I suppose not.”
I pressed our lips together, devouring him whole. I was so ready to get him home and remove all these unnecessary clothes, and at the same time, I was half-tempted to fuck him right here on Broughton. We might give the line at Leopold’s a show.
“Okay, okay, okay,” he said as his hands slipped up my skirt. “We should go.”
“Yes,” I said breathlessly, urging him onward.
A finger skimmed down the center of my lace thong. I moaned and arched into him. He stiffened hard against me.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. His hands came back to my ass, lifting me off him and setting me down in the seat next to him. “My place isn’t far. Buckle up.”
I pouted at him as I slid the lap belt over my waist. “I was having fun.”
He looked desperate at those words. “Trust me, I was too.”
He pulled out of his spot in front of the theater and careened down Broughton toward his place.
“Well, that doesn’t mean I can’t have any fun.”
“What do you …”
But he trailed off as I reached for his pants, unbuttoning them and sliding down the zipper.
“Josie …”
I should have waited until we got back to his place. But that look on his face that said he never in a million years would have done this made me want to do it even more. I’d dated enough guys who would have demanded road head that having one who would never even consider it as an option was … hot. Who knew that blow jobs could be hot when I wanted to give them instead of being coerced into them?
