Page 92 of Good at Being Bad (Rock Canyon, Idaho 8)

He grabbed the back of her head, his hand tangling in her hair. As he pulled her in for a rough kiss, wrapped his other arm around her waist and brought her to the edge of the car.

He took her hips in hard hands and pushed against her. As she opened to him, and he slipped inside slowly, fighting his way into her tight warmth. He groaned loudly when he was all the way in. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She braced her knee next to his hips and started moving her hips over him.

“Oh, God,” he ground out as he moved her faster over him, hanging on to her as he lifted her and brought her back down. Going in high and coming out low, touching every bit of her. “Nothing. Fuck.”

Mike stopped talking, finding other places to put his mouth. Like her shoulder. Neck. Collarbone. Bending his head he played with her breasts again as she rode him, his hands guiding her own motions faster, harder, until her rhythm turned choppy. She grabbed the back of his head, forcing his mouth up to hers as she screamed against his mouth, her body squeezing his dick so hard, spasming around him until he thought she would shake right off his lap.

It was exciting and hot and all Ellie.

Unable to stop himself, he pumped once, twice and exploded inside her. She caught his own shout of pleasure, and then her mouth slid from his, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. Sighing, she laid her cheek against his, her short, deep breaths puffing against the side of his neck.

Running the tips of his fingers over her spine, he was loath to move her.

“Are you cold?” he asked, noting the thin dew of sweat on her body.

“A little, but I feel like Jell-O. I’m not sure I can move. By the way, what are these called?”

He felt her hand come between them until it rested just along his pelvis.

“I don’t know,” he said, opening his eyes again to look down at her. “Why?”

“Because there is a picture on the internet that says, ‘I don’t know what these are, but they make smart women stupid.’”

“Do they make you stupid?” Mike asked, amused.

“Yours have.”

He held her close. “I’ll look it up later. Right now,

I’m too tired to do anything but hold you.”

“Really? You’re a one and done kind of guy?”

He smacked her thigh. “I’ll be good to go once we get home. You know, where the bed is”

“I guess I can wait that long.”

“Speaking of waiting for something,” Mike said, gazing into her eyes. “I have been waiting to hear three simple words from you since I stood on your porch.”

“Hmm, I hate straw?” she murmured.

“No, smart-ass.”

“I missed you?” she asked.

“Getting warmer?”

“I love…chocolate?”

“You’re killing me.”

She brushed her lips against his, and her breath warmed his lips as her words did the rest of his body.

“I love you, Mike. Always.”

He kissed her tenderly, his hand stroking over her arm.