Sam stood stock still as I yelled. Scrubbing my hand over my mouth, I looked around and gave a mirthless laugh, embarrassed at the shitstorm I just spewed all over her. “Sorry.” Could I pass it off as drunken behavior? I cradled my head in my hands so I couldn’t see her expression of disgust. “By the way, I’m clean,” I mumbled through my hands.
Instead of running away, Sam came closer. Her hand fell on my shoulder and then trailed down to my elbow. Looking up, I saw that she’d lost her angry and hurt expression and replaced it with a tender smile. Her other hand came up to cup the back of my neck and pull my head down to hers. There was no logic to her behavior. She should have been sprinting away from me and my mess, but I didn’t correct her. I wasn’t so stupid or so inept that I didn’t know how to seize opportunity when it presented itself. Still as a hunter lying in wait, I remained motionless as her lips brushed my cheek, her soft breath feathering across my skin. The streetlights made her skin luminous, and this close I could see her pale lashes fluttering over her eyes. Her hand pressed against my forearm for balance as she leaned in, moving her mouth from my cheek to my ear.
“I’m thirsty. You thirsty?” she whispered, and her breath traveled straight from my ear down to my groin.
For a moment I didn’t get it, didn’t get what she was trying to say to me but then I recalled her smile, the light touch on my arm, and the tender way she kissed me. The lights inside my dimwitted head turned on. “I’ve never been so thirsty my entire fucking life.”
“Come on then.” She threaded her fingers confidently through mine. Her taking control in this moment? So very hot. “Is my Rover okay?”
“I could care less the place, but why?”
“Because I don’t think I can wait to get somewhere else.” She gave me a tremulous smile, and I was instantly hard.
“Let’s go.”
Her truck was parked outside her parents’ house. I climbed into the passenger seat and she drove me up the hill to a park at the end of the development. There were no lights here. I pushed my seat back and pulled her onto my lap. I was going to be inside her before the night was over, or I’d be dead because nothing short of a bullet in the chest was going to stop us tonight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Samantha
GRAY’S TALK OF HIS FAVORITE positions and what he liked in a woman had dampened my swim bottoms and made my clothes feel too tight. He was a mess inside but I liked that. I understood it. Another guy who was more put together would make me feel anxious and inadequate. That Gray was confused about life and where he was going and how he felt about women suited me perfectly and strangely bolstered my own confidence. Tonight he was going to be mine, I’d decided. I wanted to have an orgasm that wasn’t brought about by my own fingers or just rubbing against him. I wanted his fingers to touch me and I wanted to hold his head between my legs. I just wanted.
We fumbled with my top, pulling off my T-shirt and then my bikini top. The strings fell away with a few tugs of his fingers and then his breath caught as he stared at my bare breasts in the moonlight. I’d always been a little self-conscious of my nipples because they were rather large and had a tendency to poke out of every shirt I wore unless I wore a well-padded bra.
I moved to cover my breasts but he brushed my hands away, cupping one breast in each large hand. “Goddamn, Sam, my mouth is fucking watering. I can’t wait until I’ve sucked on both your tits.”
But instead of heading right to my breasts, he began kissing the hollow of my throat, running his tongue along the ridges of my collarbone. His hands circled the sides of my breasts, measured the weight of them, and plumped them together until a valley formed for his questing tongue, but he didn’t touch the tips. And the longer that he ignored them the more sensitive they became. The night air was sultry and heavy but I still felt every slight movement.
My sex ached. Moaning, I tried to move closer, tried to get him to ease that ache, if not with his dick, then his fingers or even his thigh. “Oh please, Gray,” I gasped.
“What is it that you want?” His mouth moved against the top of my breast, licking and nibbling, but leaving the nipples untouched. “Tell me,” he ordered.
“I need you to suck me, touch me,” I cried out in frustration.
“Here?” he asked, stroking the sides of my breasts. “Or is it here?” His hand drifted down toward the waistband of my skirt.
“Everywhere,” I gasped.
It must’ve been enough because he latched on, practically sucking my whole breast into his mouth. The ache between my legs only intensified. With one hand he plucked and pinched the other nipple. His free hand undid the button on my skirt and we struggled to push it over my hips and then his fingers were inside my bikini bottom. We both groaned when his fingers slid between my labia, just slightly inside me.