Page 100 of Touch the Sky

“Shit!” I hiss, straightening up so fast I almost send Jacinthe sprawling onto the dashboard. “The time. What time is it? We can’t be late.”

The hazy look on her face sharpens into alarm.

“Ah,esti, you’re right. It’s, ah…”

She pats down her pockets before spotting our coats behind me. After snatching her phone out of her jacket and turning the screen on, her she lets out a relieved sigh.

“We have ten minutes.”

She tosses the phone onto the driver’s seat and turns back to me.

“Should we, um, stop?” I ask.

She taps her chin like she’s thinking about it, and then that same devilish grin from before spreads across her face.

“Depends what you can do in ten minutes.”

A fire sweeps through my body. I stare up at her with my jaw hanging slack. She shrugs and purses her lips, putting on a haughty expression like she’s calling my bluff.

She’s about to regret that.

I sit up enough to catch her by the jaw, giving her a squeeze that makes her gasp while my other hand threads into her hair.

“I can do a lot in ten minutes,” I pant. “Unbutton your shirt.”

She hesitates, a fuming look in her eyes like she’s about to back-talk me, but then she relaxes into my grip and does as I ask.

She’s wearing a plain navy sports bra under her flannel, and when I see the soft skin of her belly and the way it curves over the top of her jeans, all I want is to lay her out on a king size bed and spend an entire afternoon just learning the shape of her. I want to undress her piece by piece until she’s bare for me, spread open, wet and wanting.

It’s a crime to only have her like this, but that isn’t going to stop me.

I grab the strap of her sports bra with my teeth and pull it back enough to land with a soft smack against her skin. She moans something in French I can’t make out and then pushes on my chest until I tip back onto the reclined seat.

She starts grinding on me in a frenzy. I slip a hand between us and fumble with her zipper before sliding my hands around to grab her ass under her jeans.

I pull her down hard against me, pressing my hips up into hers. The friction has us both grunting and gasping. It’s almost enough to make me lose my focus. I bury my face in her neck and fight to remember my goal.

My goal is making Jacinthe come so hard and fast she won’t even be able to see straight ten minutes from now.

I give her ass a final squeeze and then start shimmying her jeans down over her hips. She gets the idea, and after an awkward scramble and only nearly kneeing me in the stomach, she flings her jeans down onto the floor before leaning over me again.

She’s wearing a plain pair of black briefs that hit just below a freckle on one of her hip bones.

If we were somewhere else with way more time, I’d try and find every freckle on her body, but today, I just graze the one on her hip before hooking my thumb under the edge of her briefs.

“Can I touch you?” I ask.

Her mouth is hanging open, her arms quivering where she’s got them braced on the seat. She nods, her eyes fixed on my face in a half-lidded stare. I hold her gaze while I flip my hand around to cup her between her legs.

She hisses.

“You’re wet,” I tell her.

I can already feel she’s soaked through the fabric. My throat goes dry, and I wish there was a way to get her thighs wrapped around my head. All I want to do is bury my tongue inside her, but we’d probably break at least one of our necks trying to do that in here.

I settle for tugging her underwear to the side, just enough to trace a slick path with one of my fingers.

“More,” she groans. “Hurry.”