Page 49 of Something Like That

He thrust his tongue against hers, deep and hard, searching and demanding. And she gave him back everything.

She reached down and yanked the lever on the seat. In a rush of motion, the seat slid all the way back and the seatback—which was broken years ago and could only be up or down—dropped so he was laying down with her splayed out on top of him.

He tore himself away from her lips and laughed, deep and sexy. The sound shimmied through her, lighting up all of her nerve endings. She planted her hands on his chest and pushed herself up to straddle him. The console dug into her knee, but she didn’t care. He was splayed out underneath her, her wildest fantasy come true.

His lips were swollen from her kisses, his cheeks flushed. The heat and hunger in his gaze were almost too much. Almost, but not quite. She wanted this so badly, she could hardly stand it. He kept his hands on her thighs, the heat from his palms searing. Making her ache and throb.

She reached up and frantically undid the buttons on her coat, pulling it off and tossing it into the backseat. The cool air felt amazing against her heated skin and she arched her back, rubbing herself against his hardness.

He sucked in a breath and trailed his hands up to her waist. She grabbed his wrists, slid his hands up, up, up until they covered her breasts. Her nipples hardened into tight little points. She made a pleased little mewling sound in the back of her throat. So good.

He squeezed gently a couple of times. She leaned into the touch. He cupped the outside of her breasts, tracing his thumbs over her nipples. She gasped and squeezed her thighs tight around his hips. Her nipples had always been really sensitive, and even through the cotton of her t-shirt and the lace of her bra, they ached.

She grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and, without thinking too much about it, whisked it off. It got tossed into the backseat next to her coat.

“Jesus,” he said, and it was more like a whispered prayer.

Goosebumps chased themselves across her skin, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the cool air in the car or his predatory stare. He looked like he wanted to devour her… and she was going to let him.

She rocked her hips. He groaned, the sound deep and dirty. Everything below her bellybutton clenched, an empty ache spiraling through her. He was wearing far too many clothes. She pushed the edges of his coat aside and trailed her hands down the hard length of his abs. Even through his t-shirt, the defined ridges of muscle were drool inducing.

He pulled himself up into a partial sitting position, the abs under her fingers flexing and bunching. The freaking strength and control if took for him to maintain the position while he practically tore off his coat was impressive. And insanely hot.

She leaned forward and captured his lips in a scorching kiss. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, the one seeking and demanding this time. His tongue clashed with hers, all heat and deliciousness.

He broke away to yank his t-shirt off over his head and toss it into the backseat alongside her discarded clothing. She sucked in a breath. He was glorious, but then, she already knew that. It had taken a great deal of self-control not to drool during their training sessions. And for the most part, all that had been on display had been his arms and shoulders. Here, with him half naked underneath her, he was breathtaking.

His broad shoulders had a dusting of freckles on them. The previous desire to play connect the dots with her tongue welled up inside her again. She only just held back. Mainly because she loved the view and wanted to soak it all in.

And maybe do a little more than look.

She pressed her hands against his shoulders, forcing him to lay back. The seat gave a small groan. She threw a prayer out to the universe that it wouldn’t break. She waited a beat. Nothing happened. Perfect.

Time for action.

She ran her fingers over his shoulders and down across his pecs. The light dusting of chest hair tickled her fingertips. The muscles under her fingers jumped. She gasped and laughed. He grinned up a her, that sexy one that practically melted her panties off. She trailed lower, across the ridges of his abs. Forget a six pack, he had a solid eight.

And the most delicious goody trail she’d ever seen.

The line of course, red hair thickened below his bellybutton and then disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. Pointing directly to the promising bulge in his pants. She scooted back a few inches so she could appreciate the whole picture.

It was glorious.

He was sprawled out, his pale skin practically glowing in the dim light. He placed his hands on her thighs. Like before, the touch burned. But it was a delicious burn. She bit her lower lip, mostly to keep from saying something stupid.

Placing her hands over top of his, she slid her palms up and down his forearms. God, she’d never considered forearms sexy before, but his were. All strong and muscular. She let her gaze travel up the length of him until she was staring into his face.

His eyes were heavy lidded, the blue so dark they looked navy. He licked his lips, his tongue peeking out to tease her, tempt her. She often denied herself things, but she refused to deny herself this. Not when she wanted it so badly. When she wanted him so badly. How could he have ever thought she was ashamed of him, ashamed of this?

She leaned forward, pressing her body against his, skin to skin. The heat of him seeped into her. She groaned. It was like laying directly on a furnace, the burn thawing all of her frozen parts. She shivered, the last of her inhibitions falling away.

She captured his lips again, pouring everything she was feeling into the kiss. Lust, desperation, heat. He kissed her back, his tongue clashing with hers in a battle, just as desperate, just as needy. He slid his hands over her hips to cup her butt, pulling her tightly against his erection. The thin fabric of her yoga pants was no match for the weight of his jeans, and the seam of the zipper and the hardness beneath pressed right against her clit.

Her hips jerked at the contact and she gasped. He swallowed the sound. She brought her hands up and sifted her fingers through his hair. Clenched her fists, gave a tug. He made a growling noise deep in his throat and rocked his hips up.

Desire streaked outward from between her thighs, making her toes curl. He shifted his hands up to her lower back. Slid them underneath the waistband of her pants and into her underwear. His rough, calloused hands covered her butt. He squeezed.

She squeaked and pulled away from his lips. The breath heaved in and out of her lungs, which was both a blessing and a curse, because each hard inhale rubbed her breasts against him. Her sensitive nipples were tight peaks, the itchy lace of her bra making her ache.