Bound For Me(6)

Since when was her skin so damn sensitive? Since when had she ever been so turned on?

“We need privacy,” he muttered, rocking his hips into hers. Even with all the bulk of their winter wear, she felt his tension, the hard-on he was packing. “There are security cameras all along the streets.”

“The bar has cameras everywhere too,” she groaned breathlessly, aching to rub closer to that rigid length, wanting to explore it up close. To have him bared beneath her. “But I don’t want you coming back to my place. And I don’t want to go to yours.”

She didn’t want to have to wait that long.

He seemed to understand her rejection sprang from desperate urgency. “My car. Tinted windows.” He tensed up. “Come on.”

Seriously? Savannah managed to peel herself away from his luscious strength and turn. He took her hand and walked her a few paces down the street before stopping. It wasn’t a car. It was a giant all-terrain SUV with ridiculously huge wheels. He could probably drive it straight up to the summit of the mountain. And even in the dim night sky she could see it had tinted windows like it was purpose built for celebrities who wanted to avoid all those cameras. Or for people who wanted to indulge in lewd acts in town beyond midnight.

She frowned at its obvious expense. “Work car?”

“Uh huh.”

She hesitated. They’d be like teens finding space to make out. Like the teen she’d never been. She’d missed out on all that fun stuff because by then her mom’s actions had made Savannah a social pariah.

And since then, she’d been so afraid of letting go.

“It looks powerful,” she muttered, just for something to say because she knew she’d been silent and still for too long.

“It is,” he said, turning to her. He pressed something sharp edged into her palm. She looked down and saw he’d handed her the car key.

She looked up at him in query, but couldn’t read his expression, his face was in shadow.

His words came to her on a rough, thrilling whisper. “You drive. We go as far and as fast as you want.”

Savannah knew he didn’t actually mean the car. And she already knew the road she wanted to take.

The one that went all the way. As quickly as possible.





Chapter Three





She glanced down and pressed the small button on the keychain. The lights flashed and there was a beep. She’d unlocked the machine.

She turned to him. “After you?”

“The back seat’s bigger.” He shrugged off his jacket and opened the rear passenger door. “If that’s okay with you?”

“You do need your space,” she murmured with approval.

Despite the dark, with the jacket gone she could see his jeans, and then his butt as he bent to slide into the car. The guy was built. Heat slicked between her legs. Apparently she’d turned into some Neanderthal woman who wanted no one less than a warrior. The strongest, the fittest. The one who could fuck her the best.

He glanced over his shoulder, his smile flashing in the starry night. “You like what you see?”

In answer she removed her own winter coat. And it wasn’t the frigid air that had made her nipples erect.

Anticipation thudded through her. This one night was what she needed. What she’d never really thought she could ever have. How often did a woman find a guy who was man enough to let her take the lead. Man enough to want to satisfy, to service, her.

Even better he was a man leaving town. A man with a smile that was all icing to his sexy, serious swagger.

She bent, still clutching the key, and climbed into the car, dropping her coat into the front as she did. She knelt sideways on the back seat. He sat in the middle of it, his feet planted wide on the floor. There was only one place for her to go and they both knew it.

He turned his head and watched her. Waited.

The car wasn’t warm, but she was so hot she didn’t care. Anticipation licked higher as she curled her leg and then spread it wide to reach across him. She lightly rested her hands on his broad shoulders, as she hovered above him. Gently she sat down onto his lap, taking a moment to enjoy the strength she could feel in the thighs beneath hers.

Yeah. There was nothing to be afraid of here. This was once only. Not even a whole night.

“I’m gonna have to kiss you again, Sugarlips,” he teased.

“Sugarlips?”

“You speak so sweetly.”

She nearly choked.

He put his hands to her waist and gently squeezed, then stroked those broad hands up her back. “I mean it. I like that you say what you think and make no apology for it.” His smile sounded. “Can you say what you want just as bluntly? Can you tell me what you want me to do to you? What you want to do to me?”

“You want me to talk dirty?” A streak of disappointment brushed over her. Was that why he was really here? Did he only get off on rough and tough talk from some kind of dominatrix bitch? Was that what he thought she was? Was this only going to be about what he wanted, what got him off, after all? She should have known it was too good to be true.

Should have known he hadn’t seen past her protective shell. As if anyone ever did?

“No, I just want to know what you want me to do,” he answered easily. “My only plan is to please you.”

Pleasure—and relief—swamped her now. She angled her head, listening to that edge of honesty in his voice. That edge that had caught her attention from the moment he’d first spoken. And that’s when she realized, she didn’t want him to speak at all. She didn’t want to connect in that way—too intense. She just wanted to feel good physically for a while. And he felt good. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He pushed the small of her back with a wide palm so she was forced closer. She could make out his head, tilted upwards towards her face. With unerring, impressive precision, his lips caught hers.

Her brain shorted out. Yep. This was what she wanted. All she wanted. Just this touch. Lots and lots of this kind of touch.

The car was like a bubble—the world, all her worries excluded from it. Only a very dim light from the capped streetlights pierced the tinted windows, bathing them in a magical kind of gloom, making other senses do the work.

Touch, taste, scent, sound.

Touch was supreme. Sublime.

As they kissed, she worked her fingertips over his ultra-short hair, delighting in the soft-yet-roughness of it. Tracing the hard bones of his skull, down his cheekbones. Learning him in the dark. Speed and secrecy added an illicit flavor to the moment. She felt absolute certainty her need would be met.

Secretly she was glad she couldn’t see into his eyes. He saw too much. And she didn’t want to be seen at this moment. She just wanted to be free to indulge. Free from judgment, from fear. Free from everything but the pleasure of physical closeness.

Her fingertips coasted over him, down his neck, across his broad shoulders. His hands slid over her skin, up her skirt, seeking secret places. The most sensitive. Up and down the soft skin of her inner thighs.

And all the while he kissed her. Long, sweeping, erotic, indulgence kisses. The kind she’d never had before. The kind she couldn’t get enough of now, lingering and lush. Their lips sealed and broke and resealed. His tongue swirled within her mouth—alternating between smooth strokes and teasing swipes with a deliciously unpredictable rhythm.

Her impatience and need grew. Urgency. She slid his jersey up with fast fingers. He lifted his arms to she could remove it entirely. To her delight he wore nothing beneath. She leaned in and breathed. And touched—silken skin over solid-packed muscle. She reveled in the way those muscles moved beneath her. She tracked a finger through the light dusting of hair. She bent, rubbing her jaw against it. But only for a moment before sitting up and kissing him again. She needed as many of those kisses as she could get tonight. And as she kissed him, she danced her hips over his, writhing, rocking closer. Harder. Riding him. His erection bulged large and hard through his jeans. She needed him inside her. She needed that emptiness filled. She rocked harder, faster, rougher, more than halfway there already.

“You want it,” he rasped.

“Now.” She confirmed.

“Come first.”

“No. Fuck me.” She muttered breathlessly, brutally, shockingly blunt. “Now.”

“Soon, Sugar.”

“Now.”

He grabbed her hands, stopping her from forcing open his fly. He kissed her hard and deep. Then he pulled back with such a jerk he banged his head on the headrest behind him.

“I want to make you come. Want to see you come. Hear you come,” he muttered. “Want to feel you around me. Hot and wet.”

She was already both. She rubbed up and down his thighs, over his cock, eager to ease the ache tormenting her. So close to release. Needing more. “Take. Me. Now.”

“You want it hard?” He cupped her chin and lifted her face back from him, as if trying to see into her eyes.

She wanted it anyway he’d give it. She just wanted it now. “Hurry.” She ground down on him again.

“This is your party, Sugarlips. Tell me. Or show me.” He kissed her, his stubble rasping, almost bruising.

Right now all she wanted were those kisses. Her mouth was so hungry for them, her mind lost. There was no holding back. No fear of falling too hard or too fast. Because with him there could be only this. Only now. She rocked on him harder, mimicking the way she wanted to ride him. Writhing, rotating with fury. She heard his sharp intake of breath. Felt him tense up. Then she heard his smile. Heard the satisfaction—and the determination.