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Dax leans in for another kiss, and because I expect it to be sweet like its predecessor, I’m happily surprised when his hand slides into my hair and his tongue parts my lips with an urgency that tells me he’s as eager as I am to pick things up from where we left them yesterday.
I kiss him back. Matching his intensity, then leveling up. He may want this, but I’ve been waiting far longer.
His hands move from the back of my head to my waist and pull me into his lap. They stroke my back, my hair, my neck as we kiss over and over. I can feel him growing hard beneath me, and all I want to do is reach my hand down and unbuckle his pants, but my back is jammed up against the steering wheel, which is making the logistics impossible.
“You’re thinking about something again,” Dax murmurs between kisses.
“I’m trying to figure out how I can take off your pants. Toyota Avalons were not made with make-outs in mind.”
“Don’t underestimate my baby. She’s got a few tricks left in her.” Dax reaches down, and there’s a loud crack as the seat springs back, taking both of us with it.
“That did not go as smoothly as it did in my head.”
“Maybe not, but now at least I can do this.” The added room allows me to wedge one knee in between Dax and the center console and swing the other over to straddle him.
We pick up exactly where we left off with the feverish kissing, but this position allows Dax the ability to run his hands up my bare legs, under my sundress, and to my ass, which he squeezes playfully.
“I thought the plan was to take off your pants.” I grind my hips into him, rubbing against the bulge in his jeans.
“That was your plan.” His finger hooks around the waistband of my thong. “I had a slightly different one.” He pulls back, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
I’m not entirely clear what he’s proposing, but it doesn’t matter. “Yes.” I’m ayesto anything that involves my panties and his hands.
He slides his finger along the waistband, heading toward the space between my legs, but before it reaches anywhere interesting, it reverses, making its way back toward my ass. It makes a second trip, then a third, and I’m so turned on from the feel of his fingers on my skin that I’m practically vibrating before his hand makes one last trip to just below my hip bone, then follows the edge of my thong down, down, down until he reaches the spot where I’m aching.
His finger slides between my folds, and he starts to rub with the perfect amount of pressure.
“You are so wet.” His breath is hot on my neck, and his voice is so low and growly I swear it makes me even wetter. Then his whole hand slides inside my underwear. His thumb begins to circle my clit as his finger lingers at my entrance.
“Keep going?” he asks in that voice.
“Oh my god, yes,” I manage to get out while all my concentration is centered around how good his thumb feels and how badly I want to shift my hips and ride his hand. Instead, I wait as he slowly pushes in one finger and pumps it until it’s slick. He adds a second finger while his other thumb finds my nipple. I’m torn between two tantalizing sensations, both caused by Dax’s talented fingers. When he adds his mouth on my neck, it almost becomes too much. I’m lost in a haze. A sea of fingers and thumbs and tongues. All swirling and twirling in time. But then he nips at my collarbone, and although it’s just a playful bite, the slight sting to my skin drives me over the top. The sensation between my legsexplodes like a confetti cannon, sending ripples of pleasure through my body. My mind slides into that well-orgasmed haze where everything is perfect, wonderful, and right. And I stay there, all happy and floaty, until I see the lights of nirvana in the distance.
Except nirvana is a late-model white Ford pickup with the wordsBenny’s Tow and Gostenciled in blue on the side.
Chapter 17
“Oh shit!” Daxsays as the headlights of the tow truck hit his rearview mirror. He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me as if it will shield what we’ve done from the tow truck driver, who probably can’t see anything yet. “You okay, Gems?”
I manage a nod, enjoying the feeling of being nuzzled to his neck. “A lot better than okay.”
His quiet laugh shakes his chest. “I really hate to cut this short, but—”
There’s the same cracking sound as our seat jolts back into the upright position. He plants a soft kiss on the top of my head before he lifts my hips up and over the console, back into my own seat.
“Why don’t you hang here for a minute while I deal with this guy?”
Dax gets out of the car and goes to talk to the tow truck driver, who looks exactly how I pictured Benny of Benny’s Tow and Go: white male, round belly, a full head of light-brown hair, and a goatee to match. I can’t hear what he says to Dax, but it’s pretty easy to follow the nodding as they talk, then the frowning as they pop the hood of the car and poke around. I’m not at all surprisedwhen Benny closes the hood, retreats to his truck, and maneuvers it so it’s directly in front of the Avalon.
Dax comes to my side of the car and opens the door. “Benny’s gonna tow the car back to his shop. We can ride up front with him.” He reaches out his hand and helps me from my seat. The moment our fingers touch again, I feel a spark. It may be entirely in my head. Or the fact that my body is still coming down from what those fingers did only minutes ago. Either way, our evening is far from over if I have any say. This interlude with Benny and the tow truck is just an intermission.
Once the Avalon is secured to the back of the truck, Benny opens his passenger door. “Sorry, kids, only one passenger seat. You’ll have to make do.” I suck back a smile because Benny just called us kids despite being maybe five years older than Dax, and I am not the least bit upset about this arrangement.
Dax gets into the cab first, then offers me a hand. We quickly determine that our two sets of hips will not fit in the seat side by side, so the best arrangement is me on Dax’s lap. The seatbelt doesn’t quite reach around our two bodies, so as Benny starts the engine and the truck rumbles to life, Dax winds his arms around my waist, once again pulling me into his chest.
My god, I love his smell. The soap. The cologne with a little sweat and sex. I’d lick his neck if Benny weren’t two feet away. And because the Dax and Gemma telepathy continues to be a thing, Dax’s thumb finds the cutout of my sundress. He slowly strokes the tiny triangle of bare skin, back and forth. It’s the smallest movement, but it drives me wild and has me thinking of his fingers on the hem of my underwear not so long ago.
I shift my hips, mostly because all my lower regions are getting all riled up again, and when I do, I notice that I’m not the only one in this truck who is turned on.
