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“I never said I wanted to have sex with you,” I said.
Pride pushed those words out of my mouth, but common sense made me want to shove them right back in. I definitely didn’t want to sound like a sore loser.
She turned to look at me. “Why not?”
The blanket covered all but her face. She held it in place with two hands under her chin. It created the perfect protective wall, I was guessing.
“I’m a good catch,” she added almost as an afterthought.
“That you are.” I nodded. “But you’re also Bo’s little sister. He’s trusting me to keep you safe.”
“Ha!” She rolled her eyes and stared at the fire. After a long silence, she finally spoke again. “My brother is no different from my dad. They both think I should stay a virgin forever.”
I’d opened my mouth to say something—Lord knows what—but her words stopped me in my tracks. “Did you say virgin?”
I was staring at her now, the fire to the right of us completely forgotten. I had to be hearing things.
“Yep,” she said. “I’m twenty-four, and I’ve never had sex.”
That was going to be my next question. Exactly how old was this woman? There were twelve years between us, which normally would have me marking her off the list as “too young.” But Abbie Phillips intrigued me in a way no other woman ever had.
“I’m so tired of it,” she said. “They think they’re being protective, but it’s just controlling.”
“You’re a grown woman,” I said.
But I had to admit, it made me feel a little better that her brother and dad looked out for her. I just had a desire to keep this woman safe.
“It’s a big decision,” I said. “I’m sure?—”
My words cut off when I felt a hand on my left thigh. My cock sprang to life, pressing against the zipper of my jeans. But I didn’t squirm to relieve some of the pressure. I didn’t dare budge an inch.
“I’ve never been allowed in a car alone with a guy,” Abbie said as her fingers ran up my thigh. She scooted closer, adjusting the blanket as she moved so that it continued covering her. “I always fantasized about a guy taking me to an abandoned park somewhere and touching me in…those places.”
I closed my eyes as her hand made its way to my crotch. She slid her fingers across my zipper, inching her way along my shaft. I’d never hated any material as much as I hated the denim of these jeans right now.
“Usually, things like this start with a make-out session, you know,” I said.
“Show me,” she said. “Pretend we’re in the backseat of your car and it’s our first date.”
Our first date? I was a thirty-six-year-old man. My first kisses didn’t happen in the backseat of a car. But why the hell would I argue about that right now?
I turned to face her, shifting my body. She’d scooted over, putting her easily within kissing distance. But I inched over a little more anyway, acutely aware of her fingers fumbling with my zipper. I looped a finger under her chin and pulled her toward me, capturing her lips in a long, sweet kiss. The kiss deepened as her tongue gently traced my lower lip.
I moaned, struggling to tamp down my arousal as my hand moved beneath the blanket, grazing across her neck, then over her shoulder, sliding over the underside of her breast. She took a deep breath, pausing before continuing the kiss.
Yes, it had been a long time since I’d experienced a passionate make-out session like this. It definitely took me back to those days of wondering if a girl would be offended if I unclasped her bra. I’d eventually do it anyway, taking the chance because the risk was worth the reward.
Abbie didn’t stop me as I slid my hand down her stomach, moving it under her shirt and pushing it upward. I desperately hoped there’d be no bra, but there was. It was a thin layer of silky cloth that I easily shoved aside. Deepening the kiss, I slid my hand upward, cupping her breast, feeling her nipple against my palm.
Her fingers started moving again, and I felt my zipper slowly lower, one tooth at a time. I tried to focus on what I was doing, but it was nearly impossible, especially when she unfastened my jeans, then slid her hand under the elastic waistband of my underwear.
My breath caught as her fingers grazed my throbbing cock. Then she ran her thumb over the tip, and I pulled away slightly, looking down at her face. Her eyes were still closed.
She resumed the kiss as I pulled the oldest trick in the teenager’s book. I slid my hand around and unclasped her bra strap with one hand. It took a bit of maneuvering, but it was a technique I’d perfected in my younger years. It loosened the bra enough for me to shove it downward, granting me free access to her plump, perky breasts.
I moaned, almost losing it when I felt her hand slide around my erection, moving her way down my length and back up again. Her movements pushed my boxers down and out of the way, leaving my cock jutting toward the blanket.
Two could play at this game.
