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Oh god, he pushed back.
He urged himself against her until she was almost sprawled over the arm, mouth working over hers so quick and hard and greedy it made her gasp.Fuck, that’s too much, her mind threw out. But the rest of her didn’t think so. No, the rest of her seemed to be begging for more. She arched up into him; one of her hands had gripped the back of his jacket. If she held on any tighter she was likely to rip it.
And that was before she felt where his hand was.
Because this time, it didn’t just graze her ass.
It touched her there.
Fully touched her in a way he didn’t seem to want to do.
But couldn’t seem to help doing, all the same.
And oh, that was good. It was great. It might even have been the hottest thing she’d ever experienced. She didn’t ever want it to stop—just that feeling of someone wanting to squeeze her there that much, even if it was all just an extreme kink for complete horniness that was making them.
But it had to stop.
Considering the concert was somehow now, inexplicably, over.
How fucking long were we making out, her mind marveled. But her body already knew the answer—way, way too long. Far too long. Just an absolutely ridiculous amount of length. Becausegod, every single part of her was now spaghetti. She couldn’t even stand up under own power. She had to use the couch to get into something like an upright position, and even then she did an absolutely terrible job of it. She almost just slumped right back down again, like she was drunk. He had to get her by the waist and keep her on her feet.
Which of course only made things worse.
Now she was a thrumming aroused mess, with a hot man’s arm around her. And okay, yeah, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it been a second ago. He wasn’t groping her arse. But by this point everything felt so oversensitized and sort of primed that even that felt like being fucking fondled.
And it made her react accordingly.
A little startled breath left her lips; she went weak in the knees all over again. Ten seconds more of this and he was going to have to carry her, it felt like, and she was only spared by the slap of the night air and the sense of where they were headed.Soon we will be in the car, she told herself,and then after that a short journey and not even a doorstep kiss to endure and I can go do myself until I die.
But then they got there, and two horrifying problems immediately dawned on her. Like Ripley inAliensrealizing the terrible thing is in the bloody ceiling. One: absolutely nobody on earth ever got home fast from a concert thrown by the most famous woman on Earth. And two: especially not when their car suddenly won’t start.
“Oh noooooooooooo,” she moaned, the second their driver, Phil, sweatily confirmed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Harding,” he babbled. As if Alfie were ever going to be mad about something like this. It was just one of those things. An unfortunate accident. A twist of fate. An absolute kick in her fucking vagina.
That there was no real way to rectify. Because Phil said he knew a bloke who knew a bloke who could find them a mechanic. But five minutes after he disappeared in the direction of the arena, they got a text from him: just waiting for him might be an hour.
And there was no way to get a lift any other way. Nobody was going to be able to get through thousands of people trying to leave.
So that just left one option:
Being trapped in the same situation she’d been in with him the other day, only in a much smaller space, after a far more heated encounter, with even higher stakes than there’d been before. Because the issue was: now she knew full well how easy it was to make a fool of herself. But for some reason, her body didn’t seem to care.
Like it knew something she didn’t.
And that was all just too high risk for her.
“Maybe we could walk home,” she found herself suggesting.
And for just a second it really looked like Alfie was considering it. Like he didn’t want to have to do this, either, and was desperate enough to entertain a twenty-mile hike in the dark with a woman in heels and a dress made of spun sugar. Not to mention about a hundred of his fans and her cheer squad following them all the way.
But then he seemed to process that and resigned himself to their fate.
“It’ll be all right,” he said.
Then helped her get in.
And got in himself.
And sealed them shut in a too-dark and completely soundproof bubble.
