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Like I’m going to argue with that.
He tugs my shorts and underwear down. Tosses them into the front seat, leaving me wearing just a sports bra and socks. Not exactly a sexy outfit, but the heat in Holden’s gaze makes me feel like it is.
We’ve fooled around in Holden’s truck a few times before, but never in my car. I’m not sure I’ll be able to drive this sedan again without picturing this scene playing out in the back seat.
His fingers find the sensitive spot between my legs, his touch light and teasing.
I shift closer, trying to force more contact.
“You’re so wet,” he tells me, watching his fingers tease me.
“You took your shirt off.”
Holden chuckles. “Thought that wasn’t distracting.”
“I lied,” I breathe.
“Yeah, I kinda figured that out when you started rubbing all over me.”
A low buzzing begins by my ear. I swat toward the sound. “Mosquitoes found us.”
“I don’t know how. It’s not like we’re next to a light and it’s dark out.”
“You’re such a smartass—oh.” He slides one finger inside of me, making my back arch.
Holden grins. “You were saying?”
I moan as he adds a second finger, too distracted and desperate to think of anything smart to say in response. “Keep doing that.”
The buzzing begins again, closer this time. I wave both hands, trying to smack it away. I don’t even care if they’re inside the car. I just don’t want toknowthey’re in the car or listen to the incessant drone.
“You look like a crazy person,” he tells me.
“I hate mosquitoes and I’m basically naked. I don’t want them to eat me alive.”
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No.” I’m turned on and throbbing. Stopping sounds like a horrible idea. “Can’t you get in the car?”
Holden eyes the backseat. Thesmallbackseat. “How the hell is that supposed to work?”
I scootch back as far as I can. “Just get in. We’ll figure it out.”
He still looks dubious, but he listens to me, climbing inside and shutting the door behind him. I can’t hear the mosquito anymore, so hopefully it already flew out.
I crawl into his lap, my head rubbing against the sedan’s roof. His thighs are spread to take advantage of as much space as possible, his knees still smushed against the back of the driver’s seat. The mesh of his basketball shorts brushes against the wetness between my legs, both of us groaning when I settle on top of his erection.
“Can you come this way?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “But I want your tongue.”
His eyebrows rise, surprised. “We would have been better off doing this on the court,” he tells me.
I roll my eyes. “Lie down.”
Holden listens, his eyes darkening to navy when he realizes my intention. His head and torso span two seats, his legs folded up in the rest of the remaining space.
Carefully, I move over his chest, wedging one knee between his body and the leather seat and the other half-hanging off the edge. It’s not roomy or ideal, but the maneuvering ends with my center directly above his mouth.
