Just a Little Crush(41)

I stared at my thumb pressed against his mouth. “Why? It hurts.”

“Because I can feel it. Without pain, we’re numb.” He lifted his hand to my face and cupped my cheek.

“I disagree. I think too much pain makes you numb. Like a coping mechanism, you desensitize.”

“Actually, your body copes with pain by releasing dopamine. C’mon, you’re a biology major, you should know that,” he teased.

“I know there are better ways to get dopamine released.”

He brought his finger to my mouth, just as I’d done to him. “Like?”

I grinned. “Chocolate.”

He shook his head. “Not really a fan of chocolate.” His mouth twitched into a suggestive smile, and his green eyes were intense as he stared down on me. With every breath he took, my body pushed against his.

“Then I guess I’m out of ideas. Unless…you have some.” I turned my lips toward his finger, but he jerked his hand away, cupped my chin and pressed his mouth to mine. His lips were soft but his kiss demanding.

“I have one,” he whispered. “One really fucking bad idea.”

“It’s not a bad idea.”

He pulled back and stared at me.

“Come on.” I laced my fingers with his and led him through the crowd.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting out of here. Did you drive or walk?”

“Drove.”

I stepped through the front door and scanned the street. “Where’s your car?”

He dug keys out of his pocket. A chirp followed by a flash of lights alerted me to the location.

I glanced back at an amused Ryder and asked, “Your place or mine?” He opened my door and I slid in.

He smiled. “I’ll take you to your place.” And, as he closed my door, said, “Then I’ll go to mine.”

I blew my hair out of my face and crossed my arms. He was really making this difficult.

He climbed into his seat and jammed the keys in the ignition. “Buckle up.”

Screw that. Before he could object I threw my leg over the console and slid into his lap. My butt hit the horn, causing me to jump then laugh. “Oops,” I mumbled against his mouth.

“Brinley—”

I pushed my tongue past his lips to shut him up. I weaved my fingers into his hair and tilted my head. One of my knees jammed into the door, the seatbelt jabbed the other. I wiggled to get my knees in a more comfortable position and Ryder groaned. I giggled and moved my hips again.

His hands slid down my back as he pulled me against him, and I rocked into him. My skintight dress started to roll up around my thighs. It gave me more room to move but my knees were still getting banged in the tight quarters. I reached down and found a lever, gave it a tug and Ryder’s back slammed down. I bounced against him, laughing.

“Holy shit, Brin.”

“Sorry.” I smiled and pressed my lips to his.

His warm mouth molded perfectly with mine.

His tongue swept over mine and heat raced through me. Intense longing burned between my thighs, and my body found its own rhythm. My dress slid farther up and his jeans rubbed against me.

Ryder moved his hands over my thighs then pushed them under my dress. He paused with his hands against my bare skin. Well, almost bare. I wore a thong, though if Fallon had her way I wouldn’t even have that on. She swore it was the only way to truly have no panty line in a tight dress but I couldn’t go out like that. Of course, now, grinding against Ryder, her idea didn’t seem half-bad.

Ryder slid his hands over my skin and traced the strip of fabric. He groaned again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Shit. We have to stop. You have to stop.” Ryder pulled back and scrubbed his hands over his face.

Regardless of what he said, I felt how bad he wanted me. “I don’t want to.” I fumbled with the button on his jeans.

“Brinley, you don’t want this. Please stop. I’m only fucking human. I can’t stop if you don’t.”

“I want this. I want you.”

“No, you don’t.” He placed his hands on my hips and tried to move me back. I pushed forward and kissed him harder. He gave in for a split second then pushed me back again. “No. You’re drunk. C’mon. We both know that’s all this is.”

“No, trust me. I want you. Don’t you want me?”

“That’s not fair. You know I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You’re drunk.”

“And?” I tugged at his jeans and ran my tongue over his neck.

“Dammit, Brinley,” he barked as he pushed me away. “I’m not taking your goddamned virginity in the front seat of my car!”