I allowed myself to get lost in him, wrapping my arms around his neck and back, our legs tangled together, seeking the warmth of each other’s bodies. I moaned as his hand gripped my bare thigh and coaxed my leg around his waist. He groaned when my hand slid up from the nape of his neck and into his hair, tugging lightly.
I hardly registered the rumbling of thunder overhead. My tightly closed eyes didn’t see the flash of lightning that ripped through the sky. I was too consumed by him. Too overwhelmed by my own aching need for more.
Lightning sliced open the clouds, bleeding warm, summer rain down on us in buckets. Reluctantly, we broke apart, panting, our eyes trained on each other. I wasn’t done, and the seductive gleam in his eyes told me that he wasn’t nearly done with me either.
“Come on,” he growled, pulling me up with him.
We hopped off the truck and scrambled to shelter, laughing and squealing as the rain soaked us. I was only too aware of how my sheer top clung to my body, creating a silken second skin. But I didn’t care. I would have peeled off every wet layer that very second if Blaine had asked me to.
The moment we were safely inside the cab, the heat of our humid bodies creating fog on the windows, reality set in. We had just officially crossed that unseen line between “just friends” and “much, much more.” My cards were on the table. He now knew that I wanted him just as badly as he apparently wanted me. Fighting it would have been pointless and frustrating.
Just as the awkward silence had grown and swelled, filling up the enclosed space, Ed Sheeran began to belt out the words to “Kiss Me” on the radio, urging his lover to give herself over to his lips, lust and…love.
“Blaine…I…”
I don’t even know what I meant to say. But as I looked at him, the longer front layers of his sandy brown hair wet and dripping into those melted chocolate eyes, and that song suggesting every emotion I had tried to avoid… I just had to say something. Because if I didn’t, if I didn’t keep my mouth busy, I was liable to lick every little raindrop from his face.
“Kami…” he murmured, a slight frown dimpling his brows. But it wasn’t out of anger or frustration. It was as if he was fighting his own impulses.
Thank baby Jesus that whatever they were, they won out over his restraint.
His lips were back on mine, and he was sliding my body towards his before I even knew what was happening. Still, I needed to feel more of him. I needed his heat to warm me. I needed his flavor to intoxicate me. I needed his scent to take me higher than I already was.
I straddled his lap, pinning my frame between his torso and the steering wheel without my mouth ever leaving his. The slick coolness of our rain-drenched bodies created erotic sounds of skin slapping against wet skin as we pawed at each other furiously in a hungered frenzy that I had never felt before.
This is what I had heard about, yet never experienced. The intense need. The fervent craze. The spark that combusted into an inferno when you were with that one person that you couldn’t keep your hands off of. I honestly thought I didn’t need it. I thought it wasn’t necessary for a substantial sensual exchange.
Boy, was I wrong. Dead. Wrong.
In the midst of it all, I realized that my skirt had been hiked up to my hips, leaving my backside nearly bare in my thong. Blaine’s hands were dangerously close, kneading my outer thighs. Did I want to take it there? Could I actually see myself having sex with him in his truck, out in the middle of nowhere?
As if hearing my internal battle, his lips and tongue still tasting me, Blaine’s hands trailed up my hips, bypassing the exposed flesh of my ass, and rested on my lower back. But, as much of a gentleman as he was trying to be, he was still all man. I could feel his craving, as it pulsed with virility beneath me. He was unbelievably hard and…large. Large enough to cause me to do mental calculations, both excited and scared about the prospect of feeling every inch of him.
OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.
His agile fingers eased their way under my soaked top, his touch searing my skin. They massaged a path up to my bra clasp, stopping momentarily to see if I would object. When I didn’t, still too lost in sensation to do more than moan against his lips and push my already pebbled nipples against him, he unfastened the clasp in a swift, stealthy move. I gasped into his mouth, causing him to pull me even closer into him, pressing my swollen breasts into his chest.
His hands slid to my front as his lips found my neck. I was already tugging at his wet, shaggy hair by the time I felt his thumbs on my nipples, rubbing them back and forth with perfect pressure. The erotic sound that tore from my chest was pure pleasure and surprise. Blaine, the man that had starred in every one of my fantasies, was fondling my breasts. I had imagined how his skin would feel against mine, had dreamt of fusing our panting bodies together, since the day I met him. And to be honest, I had never really had a fantasy before him. He was the embodiment of everything I had ever wanted.