Page 90 of Miss Chief


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Damn. If there hadn’t been a lump in my throat, I would’ve said something like “carrying me for old time’s sake?” I settled with mutely accepting the short ride to the passenger side of his SUV.

But when he pulled onto the highway, I finally spoke. “Where are we going?”

“Detour.”

“Detour to where?”

“My place.”

Two words and, boom, my panties were wet, and my heart was beating out of my chest.

“If that’s okay with you?”

It shouldn’t be. But if this was my last night with him, then I might as well make it a memorable one. “Yeah, it’s okay.” My voice was full of need, my blood pumping.

Halfway into the drive to his house, I realized I couldn’t wait any longer.

“What are you doing?”

I’d unbuckled and was diving for his crotch. His alarmed expression might have been amusing if I wasn’t so starved for the taste of him. If this was the last time, then I meant to make it memorable.

“Jesus, Brooke, I’m driving.”

I unzipped him and marveled at the way he was hardening in my hand. Swirling my tongue around his crown, I looked up with a wicked smile. “Keep it on the road, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

He muttered a string of curses but shifted his hips so I could get his shorts off. Licking further down, I felt the car sway.

“Mother of God, not the balls.”

A fit of giggles hit me, and I had to glance up at his tortured face. “Fine, the balls are off the table.”

He chuckled but was soon cursing again when I took him to the back of my throat. As soon as his legs began to shake, I’d back off, edging the hell out of him and causing torturous sounds to emerge from his throat.

“Once you’re in your garage, I’ll let you come.”

He sped up, his forearms tight on the wheel, his jaw locked, apparently determined to break every speed record possible. A few minutes later he stopped, and I could hear the sound of the garage opening.

I doubled down on my efforts, but they didn’t last long. As soon as we were inside with the door closing, he pulled me up and kissed me like a starved man. It was a while before I realized the car was still running.

“You might want to turn off the car before we’re found dead of carbon monoxide poisoning and you with your dick out.”

“I’ve lost all my brain cells,” he muttered, killing the engine and meeting my kiss again. Teeth, lips, tongues clashed in a carnal frenzy. He yanked at my leggings, and I obliged his implicit request by peeling them off, along with my underwear. “Straddle me.” He moved the seat back and the steering wheel up to accommodate me.

“Condom?” I squeaked when he lifted me up, hovering my opening over his cock.

“I want nothing between us. I’m clean.”

Jesus. As far as last times went, this was a doozy. I couldn’t resist him. “I’m clean and on the Pill.”

His response was to yank me toward him, sheathing himself deep inside of me.

“Fuck,” we both groaned in unison. Reaching over, he turned on the interior light, leaning his forehead against mine. “Eyes on me.”

The intensity was off the charts. To be breath to breath, eye to eye, and ride him in the small confines of the cab was almost too much. Too raw. Too emotional. Nope, I wouldn’t let this get inside of my head. This was sex. Incredible, mind-blowing sex, but it didn’t change anything. I was leaving tomorrow.

“I’m close,” he breathed, reaching between us to finger my clit.

“Me too,” I gasped, the wave hitting me with such force I slammed my eyes shut.

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