He caught her juicy bottom lip between his teeth, maintaining light pressure while letting it slide free slowly. Her eyes fluttered open at the loss of contact. Glassy with lust, alive with the fire that had addicted him since the first time he saw it.
“I will always respect the word ‘stop.’ That aside, you do belong to me tonight. And not just your mouth.” He found the hem of her knee-length dress and slipped his hand underneath. Silky stockings gave way to even softer skin at the tops of her thighs. “These sexy legs? Mine. To touch. To command that you wrap around my shoulders while I make you come with my tongue.”
A feminine gasp rewarded him as he stroked the strip of lace between her legs.
“You wish that was my tongue right now?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me, troublemaker.”
“I never lie,” her breath caught when he increased the pressure on her clit, “I want it this way.”
He wanted it this way too. For starters. He took a beat to lift her onto the hood of the car. Pushed her dress up to her hips and groaned at the sight before him. Thighs spread wide and trembling. Pale lace, molded to her body from his touch.
“Wait,” she said as he slid his thumb over the lace again.
“Not the word I told you to use.”
“Fine. Stop.” She smirked when his hand froze, mid-stroke. “Look who’s being good now.”
“I always keep my word.” Even when it entailed a wicked case of blue balls.
“Admirable, but unnecessary. Just take off my shoes so I don’t scratch your paint, then get back to work.”
Damn. And all right. He lifted one foot and worked the narrow strap banding her ankle through the tiny buckle. The shoe clattered against the asphalt, the sound sending another surge of blood to his dick.
“I’ve never met a woman more concerned about my paintjob than having an orgasm.”
The second shoe joined the first, and Sara carefully positioned her stocking-covered feet on the Mustang’s bumper. “You make a habit of this, lawman? Getting chicks off on the hood of your car?”
He grunted a laugh. “Only in parking lots after wedding receptions in Barry’s Bay.”
“I’m your first? I’ll try to make it special for you.” She lowered her upper body until she lay flat on the cool metal. “Something you and the Mustang will always remember.”
Safe bet that would be the case. The image of Sara’s fair shoulders and arms against the glossy black hood, her dark hair fanned around her bewitching face, was already imprinted on his brain. But he could make the picture even better.
He stepped closer, pushing her thighs farther apart. He swept his thumb over the lace. Up and down, a bit harder with each pass.
Her body heated beneath his strokes. And the wetness…he could feel how ready she was through the lace. Fuck waiting, he needed to touch her now. Really touch her.
He grabbed the slip of fabric wrapping around her hips and yanked, tearing the miniscule panties from her body. Goddamn, what a sight. “Landing strip,” he said, tracing the tidy, narrow trail of hair over the curve of her pubic bone.
“Not what you were expecting?”
“I imagined you every way. All of them were good, but reality puts my imagination to shame.” He slid two fingers along the edge of heaven. Then inside. Which almost did him in. “Jesus. So fucking wet. And tight. Begging for my cock to stretch you.”
Her back arched and she opened wider for him. Definitely a yes.
He circled her clit with the other hand. Rolled it between his fingertips, gave her more pressure when her hips jerked in response.
“Faster, Curtis. Deeper.”
He’d follow that kind of order. Especially with his name attached. In and out, he finger-fucked her. And hump the air in the space between her legs—yeah, he did that too.
Below him, her head turned side to side. Her palms smacked and squeaked against the metal. Her panting turned to moaning, loud and long and fucking glorious in his ears.
But those weren’t the only sounds in the night. Voices registered on his radar. He’d parked way out, on the far side of the lot, but he wasn’t taking chances. This view, this woman and her sexy sounds—all his.
He folded his body over top of her. Took possession of her parted lips and let her moans vibrate against his tongue while she rode his hands to the goddamn stars.
“Mmm…good kiss.”
“Told you your mouth belongs to me tonight.”
She laughed against his lips. “Other way around, lawman.” She locked her arms around his neck. Dug her nails into the back of his head and sucked his tongue into her hot mouth. Worked it like a fucking blowjob.
He wouldn’t have thought his dick could get any harder, but it did. Hard as granite and feral with need, that’s how she’d made him. “In the car. Now.” He pulled her up with him and bullied her toward the passenger door.
“How romantic,” she said, reaching for the handle.
He caught her arm and pinned her against the side of the car. “You don’t want romantic. You want raw. A fuck so hard you feel it with every step tomorrow. With every breath. And you want it from me.”
She stared up at him, tongue skating hungrily across her lips.
“Get in this car and that’s what happens next.” He pressed her palm to his cock. “And I do mean next.”
Chapter 7
Sara
“Well, are you going to open the door for me?” She raised one eyebrow while squeezing the thick, hard bulge beneath her palm. “Or is that too romantic?”
A sexy smile slowly slid into place on the lips that had kissed her to the melting point mere minutes ago. “Not at all.” He extracted keys from his pocket, reached to his side, unlocked and opened the door. He stepped back and nodded at the opening. Clearly daring her to get in—and prove she wanted what he’d promised.
She wanted. So much her heartbeat was doing a techno dance in her chest and achy need tugged low in her abdomen, despite the toe-curling orgasm he’d just delivered. She leaned into him, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket and bringing his face down to meet hers. She brushed a kiss across his mouth. Light, teasing.
The moment he tried to take control, she pulled back. “Don’t forget my shoes.” She breathed the demand against his lips, then slipped inside the car.
He moved around the front of the Mustang like a big, predatory animal. Confident, strong. Dominant. A man more than willing to play and listen, but who would never truly give up control. Not during sex. Not in the rest of his life either. She’d witnessed that quality plenty since meeting him yesterday afternoon. And it made him more tempting than any of the other men she’d hooked up with.
Whatever his other reasons for maintaining control, she knew one for sure—because he gave a shit about the people in his life. He took charge and took care of them. Protected them, even from themselves. The way he’d done with her. Several times.
Getting caught up in that would be so easy. Also a huge mistake. Even if she wanted an involvement, it couldn’t be Curtis. Too much danger in a cop’s world. Bullets and knives, criminals and assholes at every turn. So, despite his far-too-tempting comment about one night together not being enough, her answer had to stand true. One night was the limit.