Page 25 of Jensen

“You taste good,” he breathes.

“So do you,” I whisper.

He spits his gum into an empty water bottle in the consolebefore pulling me in. Our mouths meet again. This time, I unfasten my seatbelt and ease in. His hand slides up my waist and cups my breast, rough thumb playing with my nipple through my thin bra.He’s kissing me like he’s starving. Everything is hot, tortuously slow, and it tastes like I might do something so filthy with him tonight,I won’t be able to look myself in the eye tomorrow.

He breaks away from my mouth and bites the side of my neck. My toes curl in my boots. God, that’s so good. Mindlessly, I shift closer and move my knee to slide onto his lap.

His body goes stiff. He pulls back a few inches and puts his hand on my knee, blocking me.

“Let’s take this inside,” he breathes.

“You don’t like making out in your truck?”

“I prefer to be on top,” he says. There’s a hint of seriousnessnow. “That’s about my only boundary.”

I pull back, thrown off. He’s half-shadowed by the porch light. “Okay, that’s fine. I think I can suffer through being underneath you.”

He smiles, and I tumble straight down into butterflies again. He’s got such an attractive smile,with strong, nice teeth. I’ve never found men’s teeth to be sexy, but Jensen’s are. And I fucking lovedwhen he bit me.

“I like being on top.I like being in charge,” he says.

I nod. “I’m fine with that.”

He kisses me briefly, cradling my chin between his finger and thumb. “Good girl. All you have to do tonight is come on my face and open your legs so I can come between them. Deal?”

Heat floods my neck. “Wouldn’t I need to be on top to come on your face?”

“Facesitting is all good. It’s just that other position…I’m not a fan of,” he says, opening his door.

“Is that why you have that mustache?”

“Yeah, that’s for precision parking.”

He jumps out and circles the truck so he doesn’t hear me giggling, which is good,because he doesn’t need his egoinflated. I’m composed by the time he opens my door and lifts me out. I turn to take in the house, but before I can make a comment about it, he spanks me across the ass.

Gasping, I whirl. Hesmirks.

“Before we go in, show me that ring finger, baby,” he says.

I lift my finger like I’m flipping him off. There’s no dent on my hand where I used to wear my wedding bands. They were so expensive, most days,I didn’t wear them,so they never left a permanent mark. He looks my fingersover and winks at me.

“All good,” he says.

“I’m no cheater,” I say, shaking back my hair.

“I don’t know you.” He slips a hand around my waist and ushers me up the steps to the front door.

“But you’re fucking me,” I whisper.

“I don’t need to know you to make you come,” he says, punching in the keycode.

“Tell that to my ex. He didn’t know me or make me come.”

He laughs, pushing in the door. “God, you got a quick little mouth on you.”

He doesn’t know the half of it. I step inside, and the lights come on automatically. He follows me into the pale wood hallway and closes the door, setting the alarm system behind us.

“Somebody did something bad to you, didn’t they?” he says.