"I lied." His eyes were wide and more than a little wild, a thin line of sweat sliding down the side of his face, a single drop hanging from his jaw before dripping on his shirt. "Before. About a blowjob not being enough to make me beg. I lied."
"Oh." I didn't have to look in a mirror to know my smile was more than a little wicked. Unbuckling my seat belt, I slid over, propping my chin on his shoulder and taking his ear between my teeth for a quick bite. Slicking my tongue over the red skin to soothe the ache, I said, "Well, as long as you don't wreck the car. I'll admit, I'm growing a little fond of this front seat."
"Yeah, me too." He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel yet again, his knuckles ghost white. "I'm thinking about taking it out and having it cast in bronze. Put up a plaque commemorating the out of this world sex we've had on it."
"Now, there's no need to go overboard." I dropped one hand to his lap, clasping his cock and stroking slowly-just enough to keep him on edge. It seemed only fair, considering he was still playing with the controls on the vibrator. "Fucking on a bronze seat would be more than a little uncomfortable."
"You may have a point there." He nudged the car up to about ten miles over the speed limit and I sent up a quick prayer that Sheriff Underwood wasn't working out this way. "I'm still considering the plaque, though. Under the seat, where nobody can see it except for you or me."
"Nice to know you expect to be on your knees at some point." I sigh in relief when he finally killed the vibrator, closing my eyes and pressing a kiss to his throat. "Oh, thank God."
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that isn't my name." He wrapped one hand around my wrist, squeezing gently. "I stopped. That means you do, too."
"Oh, fine." I stopped stroking but I didn't let go, his cock hot and heavy in my hand. "How much farther?"
"A half mile or so. No more than two minutes." Releasing my wrist, he reached under my dress, easing two fingers inside my cunt and gripping the small vibrator, pulling it out slowly. "Jesus, Jeannie. I'm surprised you didn't leave a wet spot on the booth."
"You and me both." As much as I'd hated having the little egg shaped device inside me, now that it was gone I felt empty. "We're not going to make it to your apartment."
"Oh, yes, we are." He turned the car in to the short drive leading from the road to the bar. Parking next to the back door, he unfastened his seat belt, glancing at the box of strawberries I'd pushed to the floor while sucking his cock. "Grab those. We're going to need them later."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Hansom." The over the top, put upon breathiness in my voice shifted in to a genuine squeal when he dragged me face down over his lap, yanked my dress up to my waist, and delivered five sharp smacks to my ass. "Damn it, Abraham, that hurt."
"Good." He hauled me upright, devouring my mouth with his for long seconds before pulling back. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you what hearing you call me ‘Mr. Hansom' does to me." He rubbed one ass cheek and then the other with his palm, gliding one finger down the crease between them. "Gets me all worked up. Makes me want to do things to you which might be considered a little... unorthodox."
"Mr. Hansom." I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping when he dug his fingers in to one ass cheek. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, I lifted one brow and said, "If you think you're going to shock me by implying you want to fuck my ass, you're very, very wrong."
"Oh, Jeannie Jackson." I wouldn't say he melted against me. If anything, his cock, pressed between our stomachs, grew even harder. But he sighed, long and deep, pulling me in for a kiss that had everything inside me going soft and liquid. He drew back, not really breaking the kiss, and murmured, "I swear to Jesus, if you get any more perfect, I'm gonna have to go back to Savannah and get the biggest diamond ring I can find."
"I'm not sure if you're trying to praise me or scare the devil out of me." Although the idea of wearing his ring didn't make me quite as panicky and nauseous as it should have. Blaming that little oddity on the hormones currently swamping every inch of me, I cleared my throat and said, "So are we going inside or are we going to christen the car again?"
"You can't really christen something twice." He opened the door, sliding out and pulling me with him, leaning back in long enough to grab my purse and the box of strawberries he was apparently obsessed with. Glancing at me, he said, "As much as I love the view, you should probably pull your dress down in case one of the regulars is lurking around, trying to convince me to open early."
"Says the man with his cock hanging out for all the world to see." Still, I wiggled my dress down over my hips, casting furtive looks around the parking lot. There weren't any other cars but that didn't mean somebody desperate for a drink hadn't decided to hoof it out here. "What time do you open?"
"In theory, at five, but it's not really set in stone." Shutting the door with his hip, he took my hand, leading me toward the back door. "If I had another bartender, we could stay in bed until tomorrow morning."
"Either you think a lot of your stamina or you think a lot of mine." I leaned against the building as he fished in his pocket for his keys, swinging one leg absently as I studied the fields spreading out in to the distance. "Who takes care of the farm, with your father being paralyzed and you with your own business?"
"There's a crew year round who take care of the basics and I hire on extra hands during the planting and harvesting season." He glanced over his shoulder, his brow creasing in a tiny frown. "Reminds me, I need to call Josiah tomorrow, tell him to start looking for people for the fall. Harvest was good last year-should be better this year."
"Careful there-keep talking like that and somebody is going to think you're a real farmer and not just playing at being one." I moved past him in to the bar, jumping and yelping when he smacked my ass again. Shooting him a glare over my shoulder, I said, "Keep that up and I'm going to make you kiss it."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, Jeannie Jackson." He stuffed the takeout box in my purse and slung it over one shoulder before scooping me up, Scarlett O'Hara style. "Sorry, darlin', but I'd like to get upstairs and inside you sooner rather than later."
"I'm not disagreeing with the idea but you'll forgive me for being a little nervous hanging upside down like this." To ease some of those nerves threatening to tie my stomach in knots, I took a deep breath and focused my gaze on something more pleasant. Like the glint of the barbell in his cock in the dim hall light. "Do you always wear that?"
"Since I don't want to go through the trouble if having it repierced because the hole closed up... yeah."
"I meant that particular piece of jewelry."
"I can change it out but I'm not a big fan of hoops, at least on myself." He gave my ass an absent, almost affectionate pat when we reached the landing outside of his apartment, fumbling in his pocket for the keys. "Besides, I'm under the distinct impression you're a fan of the barbell."
"I am." Which might have been the understatement of the year. I'd had more orgasms thanks to that little piece of jewelry than the last vibrator I'd owned. Not that I would ever tell him that-he already had way too much power in that particular arena. "I was just curious."
"If you're already starting your Christmas shopping, I should tell you what I'd really prefer is a new keg system for the bar." He nudged the door open with his foot, taking a few steps inside before setting me down and kicking the door shut. Dropping my purse on the floor, he started unbuttoning his shirt. "Still, I know that's somewhat on the expensive side, so if you'd rather go with a pair of socks that light up or something, I understand. Why aren't you naked yet?"
"Oh, gosh, forgive me for taking a moment to get my bearings back." I shook my hair out of my face even as I reached behind and started unzipping my dress. "Besides, you're wearing a fair amount of clothing yourself."
"Yeah, but I'm working on getting mine off." He shrugged out of his shirt, toeing off his shoes at the same time. "And I have more to remove. All you have on is the dress."
"Are you sure about that?" I slid my arms free of the dress and pulled it forward, holding the gaping bodice against my torso. Cocking my head, I said, "Wanna bet?"