I scan the lot once, then again.
We’re alone.
Good.
I back him up against the passenger side door and crowd into his space before he can ask what the hell I’m doing. My hand slides up, cupping the sharp edge of his jaw, thumb grazing the base of his throat.
And then I kiss him.
Hard.
His breath hitches as our mouths dance together. My fingers tighten on his jaw, keeping him right there, right with me, as I sink into the kiss like it’s the only thing holding me up.
He moans into my mouth—soft and wrecked and involuntary—and it shoots straight down my spine. His hands grab my shirt, yanking me closer, dragging me against the press of his body like he wants to fuse us together.
God, I want him.
Want him in ways I can’t admit, in places I can’t take this yet.
But I can give us this.
This moment.
One more kiss, slower this time—lingering, deep, my tongue teasing the corner of his mouth like I’m trying to memorize the taste of him. His hands tremble on my sides, either from the cold or the chaos of what this is turning into.
We’re both breathing hard when I finally pull back.
“Inside,” I murmur, voice low. Then I nod at the door. “Get in.”
He stares at me, chest heaving.
Then he opens the door and climbs in without a word.
And I round the Jeep like I’m not already shaking with everything I haven’t let myself feel until now.
I slide into the driver’s seat and close the door, but I don’t start the engine.
Not when he’s sitting there beside me, lit only by the glow of a streetlamp outside and the fire still burning behind his eyes, and he’s looking at me like that kiss wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t.
I turn toward him, reaching across the center console, and fist the collar of his shirt to pull him in again. Our mouths meet, slower this time, the hungry kind of want that simmers hot and steady.
I kiss him, mapping his mouth slowly. As though I have all the time in the world to learn every part of his mouth.
Soft nips to his bottom lip.
A slow lick just to taste him again.
He makes thissound—quiet, desperate, a soft whimper that shoots heat straight through me—and then he’s shifting, climbing halfway over the console like he can’t get close enough.
His fingers tangle in my shirt. Mine slide into the short strands of his hair.
We’re tangled up and breathing each other in, our bodies straining closer even though there’s barely space to move. He’s straddled me, grinding down on my lap. Until the horn honks when he bumps against it.
I break the kiss with a low laugh, my forehead resting against his. This won’t be a secret much longer if we make my Jeep rock.
“We really need to get back to my apartment before we give someone a front row seat.”
