But then she looks up at me, and the world just—stills. The sound of the wind, the distant music, everything fades until it’s just her.
She steps closer.
Then she kisses me.
It’s not planned—not gentle, either. It’s sudden, like she’s been holding her breath all night and finally let it out. It shakes something loose in me, something I didn’t realize I’d been keeping locked up.
When she starts to pull back, I catch her waist, steadying both of us. “Are you sure?” I ask, my voice rougher than I expect.
She nods once, quick, eyes bright. “Yeah.”
So I kiss her this time.
Her fingers slide up my neck, her breath warm against my skin, and every thought, every rule, every warning dissolves into the cold night air.
Her lips crash into mine again, harder this time, and I meet her with the same fire. My hands tighten on her waist, pulling her flush against my bare chest. The kiss turns feral in an instant—teeth nipping at her bottom lip, tongues battling for dominance as she moans into my mouth.
I taste the faint sweetness of the alcoholic punch on her breath, and it drives me wild. She’s gripping my shoulders now, nails digging in, and I growl low in my throat, backing her up against the car door.
The metal is cold through her thin shirt—my shirt, hanging loose on her frame—but she doesn’t seem to notice. Her body arches into mine, hips grinding instinctively, and I can feel the heat radiating from between her legs even through our clothes.
My cock twitches in my jeans, straining against the denim as I deepen the kiss, one hand sliding up to tangle in her blonde hair. I tug gently at first, then harder, tilting her head back to expose her neck. I break away just long enough to drag my lips down her throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
“Jamie,” she gasps, her voice breathy and needy. Her fingers claw at my back, and I press my thigh between her legs, feeling the mini skirt ride up as she rocks against me.
“You smell like cherries,” I murmur against her skin, inhaling deeply. “So fucking pretty like this.”
She shivers, and that’s all the invitation I need. I spin her around, opening the back door of her Civic with one hand while keeping her pinned to me with the other. The car is cramped, but it doesn’t matter. I guide her inside first, sliding in after her and pulling the door shut. The space feels intimate, charged, the leather seats cool against my skin as I settle her on my lap.
Her sneakers scuff the floor mat as she straddles me, the skirt hiking up to reveal the edge of her white panties. I cup her face, kissing her again—savage, all-consuming—while my hands roam down her sides. She whimpers when I grip her ass, squeezing the firm flesh through the fabric. My fingers dip under the hem of the skirt, tracing the lace edge of her panties, and she’s alreadysoaked. Slick heat seeps through the thin material as I run my thumb along her folds.
“Fuck, Chloe,” I groan, breaking the kiss to watch her face. Her eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, blonde hair tousled from my grip. “You’re dripping for me.”
She bites her lip, nodding as she grinds down on my hand. I hook my fingers into the panties and yank. The fabric tears with a sharp rip, exposing her completely. She gasps, and her hips buck forward, seeking more. I toss the ruined lace aside and slide two fingers inside her without warning. She’s tight, velvety walls clenching around me, so wet that they glide in easily. I curl them upward, stroking that spot that makes her cry out.
“Oh god, yes,” she pants, her hands fisting the collar of the shirt she’s wearing.
I pump my fingers slowly at first, building the rhythm, my thumb circling her clit. Her juices coat my hand, slick and warm, and I add a third finger, stretching her. She’s rocking now, chasing the pressure, her breaths coming in short bursts. I lean in, capturing her mouth to muffle her moans, but I want to taste her everywhere.
“Lay back,” I command, my voice low and firm. She obeys, scooting onto the seat, her legs spreading wide. I kneel between them as best I can in the confined space, pushing her skirt up to her waist. Her pussy is glistening, pink and swollen, begging for my mouth. I don’t make her wait.
My tongue flattens against her, licking her entrance to her clit in one long stroke. She tastes sweet, musky, and I groan against her as I devour her. I suck her clit between my lips, flicking it with the tip of my tongue while my fingers thrust back inside. Her thighs tremble around my head, sneakers pressing into my shoulders, and she threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer.
“Jamie... please...” Her voice is a whine, hips lifting off the seat.
I glance up, meeting her eyes. “You okay?”
She nods frantically, her chest heaving under the shirt. “More than okay. Don’t stop.”
I smirk and dive back in, alternating between sucking her clit and plunging my tongue inside her. My free hand grips her thigh, holding her open as she writhes. Her first orgasm hits fast—her walls fluttering around my fingers, a gush of wetness flooding my mouth as she cries out my name. I don’t let up, licking her through it until she’s shaking, oversensitive but still grinding against my face.
When I finally pull back, my chin is slick with her arousal. She’s panting, eyes glazed, but I can see the hunger still burning there. I sit up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and she reaches for my jeans, fumbling with the zipper.
“Do you have a condom?” she asks, her voice husky.
“Yeah, in my wallet.” I fish it out of my back pocket, handing it over while she pops the button and tugs my jeans down just enough to free my cock. It’s rock hard, throbbing in the cool air, pre-cum beading at the tip. Her eyes widen, and she wraps her hand around me, stroking slowly.
I twist my fingers into her blonde hair, guiding her head down. “Suck it,” I say, not a request.
