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A truck drove into the parking lot, bringing him to his senses. “We’ve got to get out of here . . .”
“It’s only nine,” she said breathlessly. “Lucy’ll still be up. And Bertis and Charlie may have stayed around to keep her company.”
He threw the car into gear. “Then you’re about to have another new experience.”
He raced out of town, found a narrow road that roughly paralleled the river, then turned down a gravel lane that ended at a small boat ramp. He maneuvered the Explorer past the ramp and into some brush, where he killed his lights, put down the front windows, and turned off the ignition. “I know we’re both a little old for this . . .”
“Speak for yourself.” Just like that his lap was full of frisky First Lady. Or at least the part of his lap she could get to with the steering wheel in the way.
It wasn’t gentlemanly of him, but he went for her panties first, banging his elbow against the door panel as he reached under that billowy orange skirt, then grinding his hip into the armrest as he whipped them down her shapely legs and pitched them out the car window.
Her sweet little tongue slipped from his mouth. “Did you just throw my panties out the window?”
“No.”
She laughed and reached for his zipper. “I want yours.”
“Oh, you’re going to get mine, all right.” He tore off the Wal-Mart pillow and slid across the seat, taking her with him. His knee scraped the dash, his head bumped the roof, but he didn’t care.
She threw her leg over his thighs to straddle him. This was too sweet. He nuzzled the little beaded heart at her throat, caught her bottom lip between his own. “I see you’ve done this before.”
“Dozens of times. I invented it.”
Damned if she didn’t have his pants open. And she was giving a whole new meaning to the term full disclosure.
He’d decided last night that he wasn’t getting within ten feet of her without packing a condom. After he’d found what he needed, he grasped the tab on her zipper and pulled it down so he could slip the dress off her shoulders. Within seconds he was squeezing a small, hard nipple.
“That hurts,” she murmured. “Do it again.”
He smiled and did as she asked.
Something between a growl and a purr made a gentle vibration inside her mouth. He felt it with his tongue and it drove him crazy.
He pushed his hand under her skirt again and cupped her between those generously splayed thighs. She was wet and slick. He rubbed.
“Don’t . . . do . . . that . . .”
He slipped his finger inside her and whispered, “Is this better?”
She moaned and gripped his head between her hands, taking over their kiss, abrading her nipples against his shirt.
He had her cradled in his hand, but he was so wild for her that it wasn’t enough. He left that sweet warm place to grasp her hips. He lowered her . . .
She locked her knees. Brushed herself across him. Open. Soft damp feathers. Back and forth.
He groaned. His shirt was sticking to his chest, his muscles clenched. He found her breast. Sucked.
She was a siren, a vixen. Teasing and tormenting.
He drove up . . . pulled her down . . .
She gasped and let him into her body.
She was so new and eager that he tried to slow down, but she wanted to ride him in her own way. He needed to enfold her and protect her and engorge himself upon her all at the same time. She was wicked, magnificent, unbelievably precious.
The interior of the car became their only world, and the night breeze rustling through the riverbank trees their only music. They clung to each other as if no one else existed. And then they catapulted into space.
The next morning Nealy sat on the back step with her knees tucked under her nightgown and gazed into a backyard shining with the dew of a new Iowa morning. As steam rose from the coffee mug next to her, she breathed in the knowledge that had awakened her.
