Page 142 of Just One Little Bargain

“The fog is too thick.” I kiss the corner of her mouth, then the line of her jaw. “Plus, the path forks behind us.”

“We’re in a corn maze.”

“A haunted one. The atmosphere is unusually conducive to poor judgment.”

“There’s a plastic skeleton fifteen feet away.”

“He appears discreet.”

Her laugh cuts off in a gasp when my mouth finds the sensitive place beneath her ear. I know that sound now, and exactly what I did to earn it.

She arches into me. I’m hard enough that the seam of my jeans has become a form of punishment, every shift of her body tightening the pressure until pleasure and discomfort blur together. Evie rocks her hips once, pressing her thigh against the rigid line of me, and the friction pulls a sharp breath through my teeth. Her palm stops above my abdomen. That brief hesitation makes me want to reassure her and beg her in equal measure.

Then she backs me against a plywood divider concealed between the rows and lets her fingers move again. My abdomen tightens beneath her touch, but I make myself stay still and let her explore.

By the time her fingers reach my belt, the teasing has left her expression. She slips one finger through the loop and tugs, then looks up at me. The question is in the hesitation of her hand and nowhere else.

“You can,” I tell her.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“Touch me however you want.”

She watches me, her usual confidence thinned by the possibility of being caught. Her fingers hover at my fly, then flatten over me through the jeans with a caution that doesn’t match the things she’s done to me in private.

The bulbs strung above the path flicker over her face, catching gold around her pupils before the next red flare turns her eyes moss-dark. Her cheeks are flushed now, freckles vivid across them. She leans in until her mouth brushes my jaw, letting her teeth graze the tender place below it while her hips grind forward to meet my hard cock.

Evie’s eyes widen.

“That seems unnecessarily surprised.” I keep my grip relaxed at her waist, letting her decide how far this goes.

“I barely touched you.”

“You put your hand on my cock while we’re hiding in a cornfield.” I lean closer until my mouth brushes her neck. “Barely isn’t the word I’d use.”

Her palm curves more securely around me. My hips roll into the touch on reflex.

“You like that?” She does it again.

The question is almost unnecessary. “I like knowing you want to do this.”

Evie glances over her shoulder toward the bend as laughter carries through the stalks. Her fingers find the buckle, and the faint clink of metal sounds indecently loud in the enclosed row, leaving us both motionless while indistinct voices draw closer through the corn. Her knuckles stay tucked beneath my shirt until the footsteps finally recede.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It is.” My thumb brushes over her knuckles. “Keep going.”

She opens the buckle more carefully this time. The button slips free beneath her thumb, followed by the slow rasp of the zipper in the dark.

“Still okay?” Evie pauses with her hand inside my waistband.

“Very.”

That earns the curve of her mouth I’ve learned to fear. Her fingers slip beneath my boxers and close around me.

Pleasure strikes so abruptly that my forehead drops to hers. The direct contact pulls a low, helpless groan from my throat. She uses her body weight to pin me more firmly against the divider at my back. I close my hand around hers before she can retreat, not taking control so much as showing her what I need.

“There you go,” I murmur, fingers guiding her. “A little firmer.”