Page 53

We slide into the backseat of the silver SUV that my app tells me is the right car, and the driver is on a phone call.

Normally this would bother me, but tonight…it doesn’t.

It’s the Tito’s talking, surely, but it gives me a private moment with Travis in the back of a very dark car. I’m pressed all the way against the door, and he moves right in beside me, crowding me with his presence.

And for the first time, I admit only to myself that I kind of like it.

He leans toward me, his scent making me feel even drunker as his lips move toward my ear.

“Can we please stop fighting this?” he murmurs, and his fingertips skitter along my thigh as his words melt in my ear.

I lean back and close my eyes, and it’s meant to be out of frustration, but he reads it differently.

His fingertips skate from my thigh up to my hip, and then he fingers the waistband of my jeans.

Suddenly I wish I’d worn a dress instead of jeans.

I don’t move a muscle, and he takes my lack of resistance as a green light.

His fingers dip into my jeans, diving straight down without wasting a precious second, and he slides his finger down, down, down until he finds what he’s looking for.

He hisses as he pushes a finger into me and feels how wet I am, and my legs fall open.

I tug the button of my jeans and quietly lower the zipper to give him more space to work with.

He pulls his finger out and runs it along my clit before sliding it back down inside me. I turn my head over to watch him as he works only to find his eyes are on me.

Our eyes connect for a few intoxicating beats as he watches my eyes heat over with lust. I need this, need him , need to come. I feel my body moving closer to the edge. With my ex, it took all the stars to align for me to have an orgasm, but with just Travis’s finger in the back of an Uber, it’s closing in on me.

He leans in as if he’s about to kiss me when our driver starts talking.

“Sorry about that! My wife was giving me a whole list of shit to grab from the store after I’m done tonight. Can you imagine? I’ve been driving for eight hours straight and then instead of going home to collapse in bed, she wants me to stop at the store!”

“That’s crazy,” Travis says, answering for us both as he continues working my pussy with his finger.

The driver turns up the music a little.

I’m close, close, so close. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s doing this to me in the back of an Uber with someone else sitting mere feet away none the wiser, or maybe it’s because his eyes are still on me, something that’s both intimidating and heady.

The edge of pleasure starts to fold in on me, and I start to work my hips against his hand. He chuckles softly at my desperation, and just when I feel my body start to tip over the edge, he gently extracts his hand from where he just had it. His eyes are on me when he pushes his finger into my mouth.

The one that was just inside me.

My mouth.

My first thought is utter repulsion, but the way he’s studying me makes me want to suck on his finger. It makes me want to get him all hot and worked up only to leave him panting for more like he just did to me.

“How do you taste?” he whispers.

I suck his finger all the way to the back of my throat, suddenly not caring that I’m in an Uber. He starts to pull his hand away to let me answer, but I grab onto it and hold it there, swirling my tongue over the tip of his finger and giving him a preview of the blow job he’ll never get from me. I close my eyes like sucking his finger is the most pleasurable thing I’ve ever done, and I try not to think about where that finger just was—or where it might have been before it was below deck just now.

Basically I just want to get him back.

His eyes are all hazy with need when I open mine to focus on him again.

“Jesus,” he whispers when I finally let go of his hand, and I reach over and run my palm along the outside of his jeans.

That supposedly huge cock he stores in there is definitely hard as steel. He wants me. No doubt about it.

I rub my palm back and forth a few times and he hisses out his desire, and then I stop, too.

He glances over at me with a bit of irritation, and I just shrug. “Two can play that game,” I murmur.

“I only stopped so you’d have a reason to invite me in.” Our voices are low enough that there’s no way our driver can hear us over the music.

I glare at him. “I have a vibrator.”

He raises a brow. “I have a ten-inch cock that’s looking for a place to hang out tonight.”

“Is that supposed to be a turn on?” I ask as I shudder a little. It’s a total turn on, but I’m not about to tell him that. “Because honestly it sounds a little painful.”

“Not when the owner knows how to operate it.”

I roll my eyes. “You are so cocky.”

He grins and he grabs his entire package lewdly. “You got that right, babe.”

I blow out a breath. “You’re the worst.”

“Right back at you.”

I shake my head as I fix the button on my jeans and zipper them back up, my pussy throbbing with need for him to finish the damn job.

We pull in front of the apartment complex, and I thank the driver before I tumble out of the car and head up to the second story. He’s following close on my heels.

“Will you go the hell away?” I ask him as I jiggle my key and unlock Mandy’s door.

“I’m just making sure you get in okay.”

I open the door. “I’m in okay. Okay? Bye now.”

He pushes past me and stands in the middle of the apartment.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.

“I want to finish what I started in the car,” he says.

“You should’ve finished when you had the chance. You think I’m going to let you back in?”

“I know you are.”

I exhale noisily through my nose. “You are so fucking delusional.”

He nods a little sadly. “Maybe.” He moves in toward me, and he pins me against the door the same way he did in my office at the spring festival. “Maybe we just need a night to work it out of our systems. Or maybe nothing has ever been more right. I don’t know, Hartley, but I do know you confuse the hell out of me.” He drops his forehead to my shoulder. “You’re all I can think about, and I wish I could just stay away. I wish I could just get you the fuck out of my head. But I can’t.” His voice is raw and vulnerable, and something snaps in me.

I grab his face between my hands, and I lock eyes with him for a quick beat before I slam my mouth to his. It’s a messy kiss, just like our relationship is messy, but it’s also somehow hot and perfect as his lips part and he assaults my tongue with his.

I break apart from him to say, “I don’t want you to.”

“I don’t understand this,” he says. “I hate you…”

“I hate you, too,” I murmur against his lips, and then we’re kissing again. He hoists me up like he did in my office, and I’m still all worked up from that car ride. He shoves those magical, wonderful, sexy as sin hips against mine, and it’s just the friction I needed to complete the task. He starts to hammer harder against me as my body betrays me and I start to come.

I pull my lips from his to lean my neck back, and I grip on to his neck as I force his face right into my chest. “Oh yes! Oh! Oh! Oh!” While I wish it was his fingers or his tongue or his dick doing the work, the magic of friction against my sensitive clit gets the job done. It’s still him making it happen, and I have the sudden urge to give it back to him, too.

But he’s not letting up. My climax starts to wane, and he’s still hammering against me. He tips his head back to find my lips again. I kiss him slowly and sensually despite the way he’s moving, and he starts to slow his speed. We’re both panting as we move together, and even though I just came, I have the sudden urge to have him inside me.

I pull back from his mouth and open my eyes to find his too close.

“Fuck, that was hot, Hartley,” he growls. “But the next time I make you come, it’s going to be with my cock inside you.”

“Fat chance,” I scoff.

He raises a challenging brow. “Why do you say that?”

“For one, you just, you know…made me come.” My cheeks turn red. “I’m a one and done kind of girl, but aside from that, I can’t come that way.” I feel very vulnerable at the admission.

He looks surprised for a beat, but as usual, he’s ready with a reply and another cocky look on his face. “You’ve never been with me before.” The words are full of heat and promise, and the part of me that was curious as to whether the rumors are true is now full-on obsessed with needing to know.

I find myself without a retort to that because I suddenly don’t want to say something that’s just going to drive him to walk away.

“Prove it,” I challenge.

He chuckles. “You got a condom?”

I twist my lips for a beat because I don’t. But I do have a roommate who might.

I run to the bathroom to check under the sink and come up empty.

I check Mandy’s room next, and I open the drawer next to her nightstand. She won’t mind. She’s the one that’s been pushing us together, after all.

I find a variety of vibrators and lubes and other stuff in there that was way more than I needed to know about my friend…but also, bingo. A box of condoms.

I snatch one and head back out to the entryway where I left him.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks.

“Don’t talk me out of it. I’m just on that line between drunk enough to think it’s a good idea and sober enough to change my mind.”

He laughs.

“But let’s be clear. This is just a challenge to see if you can make me have another climax, and that’s it, okay? Never again. One time, we get it out of our systems, and then maybe we can be a little nicer to each other. Promise me.”

He stares across the room at me, and he presses his lips together as he glances away. He opens his mouth to say something, but he closes it again, and then he turns back to me. He mutters a curse before he shakes his head. “I can’t make that promise.”

“What? The part about being nicer to each other or the part about this just being one more climax?”

“Neither,” he says, and I can see the clear war he’s having with himself. “I can’t promise this is a one-time thing, Hartley.” His voice is soft and vulnerable, and of all the things I thought he might say to me, the words he actually speaks fall somewhere toward the bottom of the list. And then he ups the ante with his next words. “I feel like one taste is all it’ll take for me to become addicted.”

My jaw drops open a little at his words. They’re sweet and vulnerable—the opposite of everything he’s ever been to me. If he would’ve just shown me this side from the start, maybe all the hate and anger I’ve been storing up where he’s concerned wouldn’t have been there at all.

“Now sit on my face,” he says, proving once again exactly who he is and exactly how right I’ve been about him all along.

My brows dip as my gaze whips to his. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Sit. On. My. Face.” He enunciates each word as he glances around. “You wanna do this on the couch, the floor, or somewhere more comfortable?”

I’m still staring at him in shock that he’d say that to me when he rolls his eyes. He walks over toward me, heaves me up into his arms, and starts walking. “Bedroom,” he commands.

And whoa.

The command is sexy and gravelly and I think I might come just from listening to his voice.

“Uh, first door on the right,” I stutter, and he kicks it open before tossing me on the bed.

“Get naked,” he mutters, and he starts removing his clothes, too.

He pulls his shirt off first, and I have no choice but to stare at the dish spread out before me. Tattoos snake down both his arms from his shoulder to his wrist, and the more I study them, the more details I unlock. His number near his elbow on his left arm, a fierce looking tiger, words and phrases scattered here and there.

But my eyes don’t stay on those bad boy tattoos for too long because there’s the abs.

And oh my, what an abdomen it is.

Hard cuts of muscle show the hard work he puts in, and it’s chef’s kiss perfection.

I stare with my jaw hanging open as he pops the button to his jeans, and then he glances up. “You gonna get naked too or am I going to have to do all the work?”

“You do it.” My voice is a sassy challenge.

He growls a little, and why is that so hot? He lunges for me and grabs my shirt, yanking it over my head and letting it fall to the ground.

“Lay back,” he says, and I do. He works the button of my jeans and pulls them down my legs, and it’s like he’s purposely slowing down as he does it. He peels them down like he’s one of those people who opens gifts without tearing the paper.

I’m lying on my bed in my underwear and bra, and he straightens as he stares down at me. “Fuck, Hartley,” he mutters. “You’re…you’re fucking gorgeous.” His eyes are all dark and hot when they meet mine. The bright blue is gone, replaced by a stormy navy. I wish I knew what he was thinking. “I don’t know how we’ve managed to fight it this long.”

“Because you’re a dick and I’m a shrew?” I guess.

He chuckles. “Something like that.”

I purse my lips, but then he lowers his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop and my jaw slackens once again.

Damn.

Yep…the rumors are true. The size rumors, anyway.

Holy shit.

I clear my throat. “That’s uh…that’s not gonna fit.”

He fists his dick and strokes up and down his shaft a few times. “Wanna bet?”

“I thought I was sitting on your face first,” I say, mostly because I’m back to being sassy, but also because I’m curious what exactly he was planning to do with me on his face.

“Oh, you are. I have big, big plans for you tonight.”

I raise a brow and stand, and I remove my bra and underwear. He stares at me a beat, and then he lays down on my bed and flicks a finger in the air for me to come over.

I do, and I awkwardly mount him. I’ve never really liked being on top—not because it doesn’t feel good but because of all the…bouncing. It gets into my head and I feel too self-conscious to enjoy what I’m doing.

But self-consciousness flew out the window two vodkas ago, and I’m here for wherever this night takes us…even if I still kinda hate him.