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Once outside in the garage, a place we seem to be in a lot, I sit down on the edge of the van between the front seat and the back. Aly kneels beside me and then lowers herself on my lap, her legs falling to the sides.

Removing my shirt, her hands linger over the ridge of each muscle as though she wants to remember the feeling and texture. Looking down at me, her left hand rises to cup my face, bringing my lips to hers. With a need I can’t explain, I gasp at the feeling of being covered in her skin.

Taking a deep breath, I fold my arms behind my head and lie back.

Moving down my body and kneeling on the concrete floor of the garage, she works on the buckle of my jeans, just enough to get to what she needs.

I can’t speak when she draws me into her mouth. So warm. So soft.

“Jesus, Aly,” I groan, cradling her head with both hands.

Thoroughly determined, her hands reach around my hips to draw me deeper into her mouth, her movements speeding as though she can’t get enough of me. It’s just the opposite. I can’t get enough of her.

My hands grip her tighter, trying to tug her up when I feel the familiar stir in the pit of my stomach. “You should move if—”

She pushes my hands away but doesn’t slow her motions. She isn’t done with me, and that excites me even more.

“It’s like you know exactly what to do.” I stroke the side of her face tenderly.

She looks up but keeps me in her mouth, her eyes soft, and I watch carefully as I slide in and out of her full lips.

My breathing turns erratic as I try to fight the feeling, make it last a little longer. Regardless that she slows her movements, the way she’s looking at me, and the way my cock looks sliding in and out of her beautiful mouth, I give in to the hold she has on me. My head falls back against the floorboard, my body clenching, and I know I can’t hold off.

After swallowing, Aly crawls back up my body, and her lips find mine as my head lulls to the side.

She doesn’t say anything, but I do. “I thought it was your birthday. Not mine.”

“Yeah, but I just missed your birthday before you came home, so call it making up for lost time.”

I pick her up, twist around and lay her before me just like I had been. “In that case, I havea lotof making up to do.”

And I do. For hours.