Cutting my eyes to Ford, who bucked into my grip as I stroked and teased his length, I asked, “What’s the worst that happens if we get caught?”
His grin was quick. “Feeling kind of crazy?”
“Feeling lucky in love,” I corrected.
“Fuck it, then.”
“Fuck me, you mean.”
“Sassy thing.” His hands skimmed up my legs and I thanked whoever was listening upstairs that I’d had the foresight to wear a skirt to my impromptu interview. When Ford hit my panties, he sighed. “I told you no more panties.”
“It was a job interview,” I said, exasperated.
He pouted. Dear God, a Dom and all, and he fucking pouted. The image of his full lips turning down had my ovaries melting. When his fingers drifted over the front of my panties, he groaned.
“Wet for me every damn time.” Two fingers slipped inside and it was my turn to moan. My nipples puckered against the lace of my bra and suddenly my idea for a quick roadside romp seemed a little less awesome because I wanted to be naked and spread out on his bed. Then he moved his fingers, and I forgot to care about anything but how he felt inside me. Damn, but the feel of him—any part of him—never failed to send shivers racing across every single inch of my skin.
Ford bunched my skirt around my waist, gripped my hips, pulled me forward, positioning me against the head of his cock. And then he froze.
“Shit. Condom.”
“I’m good if you are.”
His eyes rose to mine. “You sure, Emma?”
“I’m clean. And there’s nothing I’d like more than to have you with nothing between us.” Ford’s hips bucked against me. “I want your arms around me, sweetheart.”
Looping my arms around his neck, I pressed my forehead to his, and Ford lowered me onto his cock inch by delicious inch. Fucking hell. I wondered if I’d ever get used to his size.
My body surrendered to his, and I savored the exquisite fullness. Even after the many times we’d been together, he was still almost bigger than I could handle—but believe me, I loved the challenge. When he began to thrust up, I slowly lifted and lowered myself, meeting his every stroke as I stared into his eyes. His hands left mine to bury in my hair and pull my face to his, our lips colliding again, unable to get enough of each other.
My inner muscles clenched tighter with each thrust. My orgasm was building, about to snap through me.
Ford’s grip in my hair tightened and he pulled away from my mouth. “Love you, Emma. Fuck. I’m going to come. You with me, sweetheart?”
“Yes. Now.”
What I’d expected to be a hurried fucking in the front seat of a truck turned into an almost perfectly choreographed symphony of movement and reactions. When I stared into Ford’s eyes, wild with pleasure, my orgasm about to wash over me—it was one of the most beautiful moments I’d ever experienced.
* * *
There were a few downsides to sex in a car—like the cleanup—but given my post-orgasm glow … I had a difficult time caring. But with every mile closer that we came to the ranch, my apprehension inched up a little higher.
“Exactly how are we going to tell them?” I asked.
Once again, my hand was twined within Ford’s strong, sure grip. When a man had a grip like that, I was beginning to realize, he could grab your hand and you would follow him anywhere.
“We’re just going to tell them. No bullshit. No excuses. No apologies. We’re adults. We’re also lucky in that our parents both genuinely want us to be happy.” He cut his eyes to me before looking back to the road. “I don’t think it'll be as big of a production as you’re imagining, sweetheart.”
“It’s just so … I don’t know. Awkward?”
“Put yourself in their shoes. How awkward was it for your mother to come to you and tell you she was getting married again? How do you think she felt? And my father? To come home and tell me he’d fallen in love with a woman in the space of a week? Awkward, for sure—but do you think for a minute they let that awkwardness deter them from being together?”
Okay, the man had a valid point. “So we just go in and tell them.” My apprehension was draining away in the face of Ford’s confidence. “And if they freak out?”
He threw me a devastating smile. “We deal with it. You’re mine, Emma. No freak-out, parental or otherwise, is going to keep us from being together. Have a little faith, okay?”
I sucked in a breath. I could do faith. I could do a lot of things with Ford at my side. Or behind me. Or below me. Or on top of me. A smile flirted with the corners of my mouth.
“Dammit, Emma. Don’t make me take you out to the barn first to spank your ass red so you’ll behave.”