She liked watching him look at her, his eyes full of mercury heat. His fingers dug into her, and he gently guided her, rubbing her onto himself. His jeans were rough on the skin of her thighs, and the seam was chafing the skin raw on the inside of her knees, but she didn’t care. She dug her fingers into his chest further, using her nails, because if she was going to have marks from this, then he’d have them too.
He licked his lips, his eyes still on his lap. “Lift up your dress, Jenna.”
Her breath left her lungs on a whoosh. His voice was low and firm and so confident. This was what he’d been lacking when they were teenagers and frankly, this was what every man after him had been lacking too.
Cal knew what he wanted and wasn’t ashamed to ask for it. Her nipples hardened, and she was sure he could see them through her dress. She was wet, but even if she hadn’t been astride him, she would have been wet just from those words.
She uncurled her nails from his chest and lowered her hands. She placed her palms on her knees and then slowly ran them up her legs. She had goose bumps, not because she was cold but because every single inch of her body was hypersensitive to Cal’s gaze, his touch.
He was watching her hands and when they reached the edge of her dress, he sucked in a breath.
She paused and bit her lip.
His tilted his head to the side and lifted his gaze to her. “Show me.”
She curled her fingers around the hem as she worried her lip between her teeth. He was fully clothed, and she was straddling him, about to lift up her dress. His command pulled at something inside of her to obey, and so she did, skimming that light fabric up her thighs. He dropped his hands to her knees and watched his lap as she pulled up, up until the lower half of her dress was balled up at her waist.
She was wearing a white lace thong. Anything else might have been visible through her dress. Without her dress covering it, the air hit the damp fabric, and she moaned.
Cal didn’t move. He was staring at her, at the small scrap of lace that covered her. The muscles in his jaw bulged as he flexed them, and his thumbs dug into the soft skin of her inner thighs.
He swallowed and licked his lips, leaving them parted. His hands began to move, following the same path hers had moments before. He stopped when his thumbs dipped into the crease where her legs met her body.
She tried to keep her breathing steady, but not knowing what he’d do next was driving her crazy. Her chest was rising and falling with her heaving breaths, and she wanted to scream, until he lifted his right hand and ran the backs of his fingers between her legs.
She shuddered at the touch. She was wet and swollen and so sensitive, she didn’t think it would take much to set her off.
He leaned his head back on the headrest and finally, his gaze met hers. Not breaking eye contact, he moved his thumb and pressed it right to the damp fabric. She sucked in a breath. He moved it, questing, reading the cues in her body, the shifts in her hips until he hit just. The. Right. Spot.
“I want to see you get off,” he said. Every word, every touch was full of intent. With one hand firmly on her hip and the other doing crazy things to her clit, he urged her to ride his lap. She let her dress go, and it stayed bunched around her waist as she clutched his arms. He watched her, the cords in his neck straining, the muscles in his shoulders bulging.
“You still get this wet for me?” His voice came through clenched teeth.
“What does it feel like?” she gasped.
“Feels like my Sunshine.”
She threw her head back, the ends of her hair tickling the top of her bare ass. She didn’t care where she was; she didn’t care what this meant. All she knew was that Cal’s hands were on her again, his voice in her ear, his scent in her nostrils. She wanted him, and she wanted this moment more than her next breath.
She came on a silent cry that turned into gasping moans. Her whole body shook in his arms, and his low voice whispered some words in her ear that she couldn’t decipher. Her brain had gone offline, and all she managed to do after her orgasm ripped through her was to slump onto his chest, panting hot breaths on the skin of his neck.
A finger lifted her chin. “You still kiss like a fucking dream.” His lips coasted over hers, and his broad hands skimmed down her back to palm her ass. He flexed his hips once. “And you still feel like one too.”
“Cal.” He was hard between her legs. It was difficult to reconcile this Cal with the one she’d known before, but it didn’t matter. She wanted him. And he wanted her. She leaned back and cupped his stubbled jaw, looking into his silver eyes. “Do you want to come inside?”
Chapter Six
DO YOU WANT to come inside?