I kissed her.
It wasn't planned. Wasn't smart. But her mouth was right there, and she was looking at me like I hung the moon. Plus, I'd been wondering what she tasted like since the moment she'd cleared her throat in the fire hall kitchen.
She tasted like tequila and lime and something sweet I couldn't name. Her lips were soft, tentative at first, then bolder as she leaned into me. Her hands came up to my face, fingers sliding into my hair, and I groaned against her mouth.
This was insane. We were in a fire truck. On a public overlook. And I was kissing a woman who'd told me less than an hour ago that she'd never done this before.
I pulled back, breathing hard. "We can't do this here."
"Why not?" Her voice was breathless, her eyes wide.
"Because—" I gestured vaguely at the windshield, the view, the entire situation. "Anyone could drive up here. And you deserve better than the front seat of a fire truck for your first time."
“Then let’s not do it in the front seat,” she whispered.
Before I could process her words, she was unbuckling, maneuvering over the console like she belonged in the rig more than I did. She disappeared into the crew cab behind us, and I sat there a second, heart hammering so loud I could hear it over the blood rushing south.
This was reputation suicide. This was every rule in the book torched to ash. This was the hottest damn thing that had ever happened to me.
I followed her.
Back here, the windows were angled so that no one could see in unless they pressed their face to the glass—and the overlook was empty anyway. Still, it felt like playing with matches in a room full of oxygen tanks.
Rylie stood between the benches, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with nerves and want. She shrugged out of her coat, let it drop. Then gripped the hem of her sweater and peeled it up and off in one slow move that made my mouth go dry. The fabric hit the floor.
Jesus Christ.
She reached behind her back, fingers working the clasp of her bra. One soft snap and the straps slid down her shoulders. The lace fell away and—god have mercy—those tits were a five-alarm blaze. Full, heavy, perfect teardrops with pale pink nipples already drawn tight from the cool air. They bounced just enough when she breathed to make my cock as hard as the truck’s steel frame.
I’d seen beautiful women before. Never anything like this. Never anything that made me feel like the floor had dropped out from under me.
“Rylie…” It came out strangled.
She gave me a shaky smile—half-brave, half-terrified—and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans. Shimmying them down her hips both took for-fucking-ever and no time at all. The denim pooled at her feet, and she stepped out, standing there in nothing but a scrap of black lace panties.
I realized I was still dressed and started yanking at buttons. Shirt gone. Belt gone. Boots kicked off so hard, one hit the back of the driver’s seat. Pants shoved down. When I got to my boxer briefs, she held up a hand.
“Leave them,” she said, voice trembling but sure. “I want to look a little longer.”
Christ, this woman was going to kill me.
She slid her thumbs under the lace at her hips and eased her panties down, kicking them aside. Then she sat on the wide bench, scooted back, and lay down, knees together at first, like she wasn’t sure what came next.
I dropped to my knees in front of her. “Open for me, baby.”
Her thighs parted slowly, revealing slick, pink heaven. She was soaked already, glistening in the low light, and the sight punched a groan out of my chest.
“Touch yourself,” I told her, voice rough as gravel. “Show me what feels good.”
Her eyes went wide. “I—I don’t really?—”
“I’ll talk you through it. Trust me.”
A shy nod. Her hand slid down her stomach, fingers tentative over the curve, then lower. When she grazed her clit, she gasped, hips jerking.
“That’s it,” I rasped. “Circle it slow. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you’re dripping, Rylie.”
She whimpered, head falling back against the bench, thighs falling open wider. Her fingers moved faster, slick sounds filling the cab, and I had to palm my cock through the cotton or lose my damn mind.
