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The moment they were in, he ran out and jumped back in the Lambo.
Jay drove fairly legally, and barely even topped fifty, but it didn’t take long to overtake the sedate silver Peugeot.
He beeped his horn, as though anyone could miss being overtaken by a canary yellow sports car, and stopped in front of Sophia, making her brake.
She sat glaring at him with both hands gripping the steering wheel as he got out of his car and sauntered over to hers. He tapped on the window, and she rolled it down, though the glare didn’t fade one iota.
“Out you get, Clements. I’m not waiting another moment.”
“I’m sure you heard what I said about the contract.”
“And I’m not agreeing to it. I need that money.”
She sighed and looked guilty instead of angry, which was no improvement. “I’ll give you the money, Jay. Of course I will.”
“No handouts, Clements. I’m prepared to work for my wage.” He jerked his head. “Come on. Out. I can’t kiss you properly down there.”
“Jay, this isn’t necessary—”
He reached through the window, cutting her off, getting interestingly close to her chest as he leaned down and unbuckled her seatbelt. He opened her door from the inside.
“Come on, Clements. For all you know I have other women waiting to be serviced tonight. Don’t hang around. Chop, chop.”
She flushed, but she did finally start to move. Good. Good. Because Jay was close to losing his mind, despite the banter he was laying on thick in an attempt to drown out the all-consuming wave of need and want andyes-yes-pleasethat was trying to pull his better self under.
He couldn’t just eat her. He had to make thisgood.
Sophia got out and stood in front of him, looking shy and uncertain. He took her hands and led her around to the back of the car where they were in less danger of getting run over. She shivered slightly. It was cool, the autumn air turning damp and thick as the evening drew near, and she was wearing nothing but a thin cardigan over her silk top.
Jay took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. His hands lingered there, and he could feel her tremble slightly as she glanced up and met his eyes all too briefly.
He moved his fingers slightly to tangle in the golden waves that flowed down her back. “How is your hair so soft?” he breathed in genuine wonderment. It was so silky and beautiful to touch that he got distracted for a moment, wanting to lift it to his face and bury himself there.
But instead he pulled his jacket more firmly around her then cupped her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones. He wished she would look him in the eye so that he could read what was there, but he now knew she didn’t like it. So instead he asked, “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that OK?”
She nodded, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement. Then whispered, “Yes, Jay.”
He took a deep involuntary breath, anticipation shuddering through him, nearly makinghimtremble. Then he laid his lips lightly on her forehead and kissed her there.
She gasped a little, and he followed it up with soft kisses along the lines he had stroked on her cheekbones, the barest brush of his lips on her cheek, her jaw, just breathing her in, tasting the heat of her skin, exulting in every tiny gasp of breath she made, as though even this, the lightest of possible touches, was almost more than she could stand.
Then he brought his mouth to hover over hers, angling his face, his nose brushing her cheek, his hands finding hers and their fingers tangling together. He moved his head slightly, stroking his lips across hers, and it felt like a brush of fire, as though that small point of contact was reaching deep inside him, pulling on the core of his desire.
When he couldn’t bear it any longer, he kissed her. He kissed her slowly, his lips moving against hers. And she was horribly still for a moment. He could feel her body practically humming with tension until her chest heaved with a sharp inhale and her lips parted against his.
He tasted the heat of her mouth. And God, it tasted like fucking cherries. She moaned, opening fully to him. The weight of his arousal tightened around him like a vice, and he made a noise deep in his throat that had him bringing his arms up around her, holding her to him even as he walked her backwards to bump up against the rear of her car.
He was so hard already, but he throbbed harder still as her tongue delicately found his. After a moment, he broke away, needing to find his mind, but also needing to taste her skin, needing to murmur against her neck, “You taste like cherries and sunshine. How, Clements? How?”
She gasped, laughing, and he moved back to her mouth, devouring that laugh as his kiss turned filthy, his thigh finding its way between hers, his hand in her hair while his other found her waist, her breast—
She pulled away, breathless, saying, “Just a kiss, Jay. Just a kiss…” even as he rubbed his thumb across her hard nipple and his forehead hung against hers, his chest heaving.
His mind was…gone… His leg pressed harder against that spot between her thighs, and she gave a little moan that made him think she was every bit as turned on as he was.
But she pulled away.
“That was…” she said.
