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I hiccup-laugh. “That was terrible.”
He grins, and in the lamplight, I’m almost knocked backward by his face, that strong jawline, the perfect teeth. And his lips. My eyes keep returning to that mouth.
He chuckles. “I think it was something like this.”
Before I realize what he’s doing, he’s hoisted me on his shoulder. I smack his back with both hands. “Drew! You’re going to wreck another hairdo!”
“Oh, it’s going to get wrecked.” He takes long strides, and I realize his hands are sliding up my skirt, gliding along the tights until he grips my butt.
That definitely didn’t happen last time. “Where are you taking me?”
“Out of the wind.”
I can’t see where we’re going, but it’s not the direction of the car.
“This will do,” he says.
I have no idea what he means until he turns around, and I see a park bench tucked along the tree line. There’s a lamp beside it, but the bulb is out. It’s noticeably less cold with the windbreak of the trees.
He sits down, pushing the dress up my thighs so my knees can separate and straddle him as he lets me slide down his chest to rest on his lap.
This is something.
Sitting face-to-face, my knees surrounding him, feels more intimate than the shed, because we are connected in so many places. My thighs press on his, and I’m situated directly on his crotch.
“So do you usually—” But I don’t get the question out, because he silences me with a kiss.
And not just any kiss. A movie screen kiss, one of his hands behind my head, his thumb pressing against my throat. His mouth falls on mine diagonally, teasing my lips with the pressure of his.
His tongue runs along them until I open for him, and his breath mingles with mine.
He tastes of wine and cake. I wrap my arms around his neck and draw him closer. His fingers entangle in my hair, which has hopelessly fallen from the clips.
I feel weightless, lost, as if space exists differently on this bench. My entire body warms over as blood rushes to my skin.
His mouth continues to explore mine, but his hands begin to move. He unbuttons the front of his jacket, and his hands splay over my ribs.
They take in the curve of my waist and clasp my hips, rocking me against him.
I feel the hard bulge beneath me and tilt myself to increase the pressure where we connect.
He’s got me. I get it now, the one-nighters. When you’re here, you aren’t going to say no to Drew Daniels.
I’m already completely willing to do whatever he asks. Naked on a bench in a public park? I might be down.
His hands continue their exploration, this time running up the front of the silky dress to cup my breasts. I suck in a breath. Drew has touched me before, and seen me, too. The unzipped coveralls gave him all the access.
But now everything is heightened. His magnetism is irresistible. Every touch makes me feel like I’m perfect and beautiful, everything he wants.
He breaks the kiss, sliding his mouth along my cheek and jaw and down to my collarbone.
I arch to him, wanting more contact, more everything.
I realize I am dressed terribly for a park bench in public. The dress has a back zipper, difficult to access under his jacket. I’m wearing tights and boots. There’s no way for me to get to him.
As his hands run all over my body, I can tell he’s drawing the same conclusion.
“I didn’t think this through,” he says.
