Page 48 of Penalty Shot

I thought parking in the darkest corner of the lot would make it easier to hide my arousal. Impossible at the obscene state it’s in. There’s no denying what she does to me.

The sexual tension snaps. We reach for each other. Like magnets, our lips collide.

Kissing her isn’t at all how I remembered. It’s more, somehow. Unbelievably soft lips cushion the frantic dance of our tongues. Tasting. Delving. Seizing. My hands cradle her head and tilt it at an angle that deepens our connection. It’s a kiss of desperation and discovery, hunger and satisfaction.

When we pull away to catch our breaths, words spill out before I can catch them. Our mouths are barely an inch apart when I speak.

“I’m losing my mind with how badly I want you. Sobad, Elise. So fucking bad. If we have to stop, we stopnow.Do you hear me, baby? Tell me to stop right fucking now and I will.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

With that statement, Elise becomes my world. Her voice, her aroma, her curves. She’s intoxicating.

“Then finish what you started,” I order. “Get over here and ride me.”

Our faces are so close, I don’t see her expression. But I feel her smile when she says what I’ve been dying to hear.

“Yes, sir.”

Get over here and ride me.

This. This is what I had been craving. I’ve been lusting after Randall from the moment I opened my front door last night. Unable to admit it even to myself, I leaned on him as a friend instead.

So, which one is he? A man I want to ride, or a friend I want to lean on?

He can be both, my naïve heart whispers.

Shut up.That’s my brain, which I can always rely on to be reasonable. But nothing about this moment is reasonable.

I’m not talking about the sex;that’sperfectly logical. Randall in a suit? C’mon, who wouldn’t want him?

The unreasonableness is the frightening, all-consuming longing deep inside me. I’m dying to kiss, caress, and cherish him. I need to hold Randall Haughland as tightly as I can.

I climb over his lap, my skirt nothing more than a swath of cloth gathered around my hips. His hands are everywhere. In my hair, down my back, grabbing my ass. All I can do is hold on for dear life, bracing my hands on his wide shoulders for leverage.

He’s moved the driver’s seat back, giving my knees space to bracket his lifted groin. Kissing my jaw, my ear, my neck, Randall’s voice penetrates my skin.

“I need you to take my cock out, baby. Ithurts. It fucking hurts without you.”

One hand presses me close while the other releases the metal hold of his belt. The zipper, when he pulls it down, is the sound of my unraveling.

His erection is thick and insistent. My hand strains to wrap around his cock, while my thumb spreads the liquid coating its head. The heat of his body spreads from my grip to the rest of me.

“Did you think you could wear this dress and not make me hard, Elise? Take it off before I rip it,” he grumbles. “It’s been tempting me all night, Elise. All goddamn night.”

I reach to the side to pull down the zipper and maneuver my shoulders free. In less than two seconds, my breasts are bare. Randall releases a low, tortured groan as his hands grab one mound each, massaging my flesh and rolling my nipples. He dives in with fervor, back and forth between my two breasts that he worships and sucks and licks.

The sensation overwhelms me and yet it isn’t enough. I don’t want him to consume me. I want him inside me.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask pantingly.

He stops and looks up at me, those long, blond lashes catching the light and making his blue eyes glow.

“Are you sure?”

Am Isure? Is he kidding me right now?

“What did you mean when you told me to ride you?”