His hands roamed her back. She returned the motion, her fingers splayed across the broad, muscular expanse of his shoulders, his hands cupping her jaw now, pushing, needing, craving....
“Ah,” he said, his voice gravely and thick with desire, “Can we take a pass on that cruise?”
She dipped her head down and laughed softly. “Yeah —good thing you didn’t buy those tickets after all.”
Cocking his head, he looked at her with smoky eyes and asked, “Do you have a car parked nearby?” She knew what he was asking, his words code for Can I take you home and fuck you without worrying about your car getting ticketed or towed?
How sweet. Most guys didn’t care.
“No car. I took the train today.”
Nodding, his smile widened. “I drove, so let’s take my car to my place? For drinks?”
Whoo—eee. Laura swallowed hard, knowing that this was really it. He wanted to sleep with her, was inviting her back to his place for it, and she ran through her mental inventory. Clean lingerie? Yes. Shaved legs? Yes—she’d been optimistic. No car? Yes.
Birth control?
Oh, shit. She was on the pill, but had forgotten to take it a few days ago. Missing one day shouldn’t hurt, right?
Hopefully he had a condom.
His puzzled look told her she was taking too long to think. “I would love a drink.” And then he leaned in for another kiss, the move more certain now, his hands on her more demanding and visceral, claiming her and marking her arms, her neck, her lips and ass with his hands, his touch, his caress.
She was his tonight, and that had to be enough for her. He was hers for whatever he gave, and as the kiss heated she felt her core warm, clit throbbing and eager for what his tongue was promising right now, exploring her as his hands roamed her back and neck.
People were staring now; as she opened her eyes the onlookers tittered. She pulled back and wiped her mouth, embarrassed.
Dylan just grinned, leaned in and said, “Let’s stop giving the jealous bastards a show.” Her laughter rang down the street to the parking lot where his Audi sat.
When she climbed in it smelled like a campfire.
Blasting the local 80s station on the radio, they rode back to his place in silence, his hand planted on her knee whenever he wasn’t shifting, the fingers playing a melody of lust and creeping higher up her thigh until they arrived at his apartment complex. It was a skyscraper made of glass and steel and screamed money.
How in the hell did a firefighter afford this? As if he heard her thoughts, Dylan muttered, “I have a roommate.”
“Oh.” Disappointment flooded her. Maybe he really did just want to have drinks? No guy ever, ever invited her to his place to share some vodka and Coke, though. Not even the true assholes who beer goggled their way to fucking a fat chick they despised in the morning.
Relief took over her disappointment when he smiled a wicked grin and said, “But he’s gone for the night.”
Getting out of the car, walking up two flights of stairs and wandering down Dylan’s hallway was a blur. Laura vaguely heard his keys rattling and then a fierce, hot mouth was on hers, Dylan’s thick forearms scraping her shoulders as his hands slid up her jawline, behind her ears, fingers nestling in her hair and pulling her blond curls loose.
His tongue explored her mouth with such precision and his hips pressed into hers with intent. Gasping, she inhaled sharply as he pushed her up against his open door and took her mouth greedily.
Without a word he maneuvered their entangled bodies, closed the front door, tossed his keys on the floor and had her in his bedroom in seconds. No complaints here, Laura thought, and that was the last rational idea she had as he went straight for her clit.
No pretense, no artsy coyness.
“What are you—?” she gasped. And then, oh wow, he went right for the center of her heat, the briefest of touches so profound she nearly came all over his lips in an instant. Her thong slid down her legs as if an unseen force stripped it off and then—
“Ahhhhhh,” she groaned, practiced arms reaching under her hips, establishing his power. Using his forearms, he guided himself to her clit, freeing one hand to touch her there, slipping a finger into her pussy and caressing so that it set off unexpected waves of pleasure.
It was like a dream come true. She had resigned herself to guys who went down on her like their Novocaine was wearing off. Lips flapping and trying to do one thing but accomplishing nothing more than drooling. Who was this man? This? This was like being made love to by a silk mouth.
Her body flushed red and hot, the fire focused on her hot nub as he teased it, slowly growing the release within, entering and pulling back with two perfect fingers. Her thighs twitched and shook, and she knew she would come like a freight train soon. She buried her hands in his hair, sinking her hands into him, pushing his face in tandem with her need to strum her to the next level—