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“You look too damn good to be giving away my goods for free.” Rhett hooks her around the waist and tugs her in close until their foreheads touch. I can just hear his question over the next singer belting out “Wannabe” from the Spice Girls. “You happy, baby?”
“Is Tommy still with Nathan’s mom?” she asks a question of her own.
“He is,” Rhett confirms, brushing his thumb along the column of her throat.
“Then I’ll be happier when I’m home.”
Rhett throws a hand in the air and tucks Evie close. “We’re outtie.”
“See you babes Saturday! Don’t be late,” Evie calls over her shoulder and allows Rhett to escort her safely from the bar.
“Us too,” Law rumbles. “Can you walk, or should I carry you?”
Cami leans heavily into his side. “I’m good,” she says through a yawn.
Kiersten hands a black envelope and pen to the server. “I’m good to go. I just need to drop the room keys at the desk to check out.”
“We’ll follow you home,” Dane says. He finds my hand and entwines our fingers.
“Psh. I can find my own way,” Kiersten argues.
“You’re into your second trimester, it’s a forty-mile drive, and you’ve been wrangling this wild bunch all night. It’s after midnight. I’m making sure you get home safe.”
Kiersten clasps Dane’s bicep and passes by. “You’re a good friend.”
With the knowledge of everything he’s told me, he’s way more than a good friend. He’s honorable and dedicated. “Your people are lucky to have you.” My voice slurs, and I totter on my heels.
“Mama, I just watched you dance on a table, and you suddenly can’t walk two feet?” Dane’s voice shakes.
“I’m tired,” I snap without any heat.
“Not a problem.” Before I can ask, gravity shifts. He lifts me up and over his shoulder.
“You’re going to drop me!”
“Never.”
The fabric of his tee stretches beneath my grabby hands. I curl my fingers around the waistband of his jeans. “Dane!”
A palm lands sharply on my ass. “Just relax.”
Liquid heat pools in my lower abdomen. “I can’t when your hand is that close.” I wiggle from my perch over his shoulder.
He slips beneath the hem of my skirt and brushes his fingers over my center. I suck in a sharp gasp when he inadvertently directs pressure over my clit.
“Fuck, you’re wet, Mama.” He turns his head to murmur.
Recklessness infiltrates any remaining sensibilities. Or maybe it’s the alcohol that has me throwing caution out the moment we step out of the bar. I slap his ass. “Speed it up.”
Dane throws open the passenger door to his truck and flips me over his shoulder to land directly on the seat. He quirks an eyebrow. “Eager for something?”
“Just the long drive back,” I emphasize the word long.
He grabs the buckle and leans across my body as he tugs it over me. The click is loud in the quiet truck. His eyes drop to my lips. We’re so close I can feel the warm waft of his cinnamon breath.
“Let’s get you home.”
As soon as the door slams behind him, I lift my hips. My fingers work around the strings of my thong. I watch him move through the windshield as I shimmy my hips and tug the damp material from my body.
Dane speaks briefly to Kiersten. With a drunken flourish, I hang my panties from his rearview mirror before tucking myself into a ball on the seat, pleased with myself.
There’s plenty of time for regrets in the morning after. Though, I know there won’t be any.
A slight breeze intrudes the cab as Dane hops in. He throws the truck into reverse, backs from the spot, and positions himself behind Kiersten’s car. I wait nervously for his discovery.
“Is this a confession for how wet you are or an invitation to see for myself?” The growled words give life to tingles.
“See for yourself.” I open my legs wide and hike up my skirt.
“Fuck,” he bites out, fighting to keep his attention on the white lines. His large palm settles on my thigh. “Is this okay?”
“Not quite,” I purr and crook my knee against the door.
“Can I touch your pretty pussy?”
My head lolls back against the seat. The heat his question invokes nearly has me driving my own fingers between my legs. “Please.”
He strokes his fingers deftly through the swollen folds. “I can smell how wet you are is. Is this for me?”
My affirmation transforms to a cry as he purposefully drives two fingers inside. My eyes slam shut, and my mouth falls open at the magnificent intrusion.
“That’s it, Mama. I want to hear you.”
I grip his wrist with both hands, not sure through my drunken haze if I’m trying to push him deeper or keep him from retreat. Either way, I want him to stay buried. He curls his fingers deep, brushing my G-spot with expert ease. I nearly convulse through the surge of pleasure. “Don’t stop.”
“Are you going to come all over my fingers?”
“Yes,” I gasp, pumping my hips to ride his hand. Chasing my release.
His fingers tighten their grip around the wheel. “Fuck. Get there,” he orders.
“Okay,” I moan. His thumb brushes over my clit, sending me spiraling into a pit of pleasure.
“That’s right, Mama. So beautiful,” he praises while staying buried deep inside. The rhythm of his fingers slowly eases to still.
I’m spent after that. The effort it takes to roll my head to see his face nearly knocks me out. I watch his handsome features bathed in the yellow glow of streetlights as he swipes his tongue along his lower lip, his arousal evident. He slips his fingers from between my legs and pops them both into his mouth. His contented look emboldens me not to feel ashamed for taking what I want.
