“Just so you know,” Elaine said, letting her bra drop to the floor. “It’s been a while. I might be rusty.”
I closed my mouth around one of her nipples, teasing it with my tongue. She swore softly, cupping the back of my head in both hands to hold me in place. Grabbing her ass, I coaxed her to grind on my erection as much as she needed to until her muscles tightened and her breath hitched with her impending orgasm.
Our heavy breathing filled the close space of my car. The window fogged with our heat as snowflakes melted against the glass. I unbuttoned Elaine’s jeans, caressing the gusset of her panties, stroking the peak of her clit. She tilted her head back with a wrecked little whine.
“Seems like you’re doing just fine to me, baby,” I said.
Chapter three
Elaine
We’re just hooking up,I reasoned.It means nothing. I’m not falling in love.
The pressure of Wingman’s fingers on my clit quickly unraveled me, piece by piece, moment by moment. I clawed at his shoulder, digging my nails into the leather of his cut. Seven long years of touch starvation made me overly sensitive to every brush and stroke of his fingers. I had my vibrator at home, but it wasn’t the same as this—the electric sexual tension between us, the sloppy kisses, the glide of hungry tongues.
To be held. To be wanted and desired. To chase the euphoric high of an orgasm together.
God, I’d missed that so much.
When Wingman mentioned being alone on Christmas Eve, I’d felt a tug of sympathy in my chest for him. Originally, I swore to keep my distance.
But then he was so charming and charismatic, and a thought occurred to me.
It didn’t have to be that serious. If I wasn’t looking for love, a one-night-stand would suffice.
I wanted to feel sexy again. After so many years of being a working single mom, my top priority had been my son and my bills. With goldfish snacks in my purse and a closet full of utilitarian uniboob bras that were sonotcute.
When I was around Wingman, I ended up flirting before I even realized what I was doing. We simply slipped into it naturally.
And I liked it.
I wasn’t looking for myhappily ever after tonight.
I wasn’t looking for marriage and buying a house together tonight.
All I wanted was the bliss of his mouth on my body, the thickness of his fingers stretching my pussy open for him.
Wingman skimmed his palm up my bare back as he twisted and pumped his fingers against my G-spot. In the back of my mind, I smothered the nagging voice of self-consciousness into silence. The last time a man had seen my naked body was before my pregnancy. I’ve always been a big-boned, plus-sized girl, but my tits sagged more after breastfeeding. And stretch marks lined my stomach, hips, and thighs.
Wingman didn’t seem to mind though. He touched and tasted everything he could reach, squeezing my ass and sucking my nipples. His dark brown eyes locked on mine with an intensity that sent a hurricane of butterflies whirling through my belly.
“I’m so close,” I panted, grinding into the palm of his hand. “But I—I can’t—”
“Tell me what you need, sweetheart,” he murmured, hoarse and gravelly.
His cock was rock hard beneath me. The fact that he didn’t come in his pants must have been due to his sheer force of will. I couldn’t think straight, overwhelmed with the desperate need to just come already.
“I need you inside me,” I rasped, pressing my forehead to his.
Wingman withdrew his fingers and swatted my ass lightly.
“Then those pants are in the way, baby. Get them off.”
I forgot how cramped a back seat could be. We fumbled and bumped into each other, laughing breathlessly as we stripped off the last of our clothes. A knot formed in my throat when I got a glimpse of his cock, with a fat vein along the length, and a thick, flared head.
Wingman tore the condom packet open with his teeth before sliding it on. Then he lifted his gaze to meet mine, searching my face.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked.
