“I knew there was something,” he murmured almost to himself.
“What?”
“I knew there was something more than Travis pushing for a car and nearing graduation. Iknew,” he swore softly.“I didn’t want to push. Should I have pushed?”
“Nah. I had to get to this particular finish line on my own.”
His hand moved, cupping the side of my head instead of my neck. His eyes never settled, the hazel flickering between gold, green, and a stormy color in between. I realized then why, over the years, I’d stopped loving summer in favor of fall… because autumn was right there in his eyes.
“You’reneveron your own.” The quiet vehemence in his words soothed the frayed edges of my nerves.
The corner of my mouth tilted up. “I know.”
“If you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.”
I was. But not here. “Wanna go parking?”
Molten honey flashed in his gaze. “Hells yes, I do.”
I tapped his thigh, and we made a mad dash for the door, with T stopping long enough to put a pile of cash on the counter. “Keep the change!” he called.
Outside, I tossed him the keys, and he caught them, surprise flashing on his face. “You don’t want to drive?”
“Will you?”
He nodded, unable to hide the worry on his face.
Closing the space between us, I grabbed his shirt, tugging at the hem. “I’m fine, frat boy. I just plan to be too busy to drive.”
Lust made his lashes droop, but then he recovered. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I do. But I need a little encouragement first.”
“Get in the car,” he growled, pushing me toward the Mustang.
We weren’t even out of the parking lot before I was leaning over the console and reaching for the button on his jeans. He cursed low, and a smug, possessive feeling tightened my chest.
The faint sound of the fly sliding down made me anxious, and I quickly pushed under his boxers to wrap my hand around his aroused dick.
He took a turn a little too sharp, and my body fell farther into his lap, so I dipped my head for a mouthful of man and cotton all at once.
Trent’s body sang, thighs flexing under me as I shoved the clothing away to get my lips fully around him. The thick weight was just what I needed, and I swallowed around him while flattening my tongue along the underside of his shaft.
Fingertips brushed my hair, and he whispered my name. Eyes sliding closed, I listened to the rumble of the engine and breathed deep the concentrated scent of my husband while nuzzling my nose in his coarse hair.
His dick spasmed, growing even thicker and stretching my lips. I slicked him up, sliding up and down his shaft before giving in to temptation and sinking to hold him inside me. A sound of satisfaction rumbled my throat, and T scratched against my scalp.
“There you go, baby,” he murmured. “Just relax.”
My body ached from being stretched across the console, torso twisted at an odd angle so I could stuff my face into his lap. I didn’t care about any of it. All I cared about was having Trent inside me, tasting him with every swallow.
Trent was the master of a blow job. Getting head from him was second to none. But there was also something about holding him in my mouth. The constant warm pressure against my tongue and the way he pulsed every so often was reassuring. It was a quiet, close connection that helped soothe a lot of the anxiety I had from PTSD after my accident and then again when I returned to driving. We didn’t do this as often as we used to, but sometimes when there was something big on my mind, this helped quiet the world so I could think.
Plus, it was a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy.
Years ago, I never would have allowed myself to ask for this. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even have given myself a chance to realize this was something I loved. But intimacy took on a whole new level for us after I almost died. I would never be anywhere safer than with Trent.
His arm moved when he downshifted, brushing against my leather jacket. Instead of pulling back, he draped it over me, and I sighed into his skin.
