"I'm so wet for you," I whisper. "You could sink me right now and I swear I'll take every inch and beg for more."
"Sabrina!" he gasps.
I reach between us, fumbling with his belt. "You have a condom, right?"
"Yes, but..." He catches both my wrists. "Not here. Not like this."
"Why not?" I'm almost crying now, desperate and aching and so empty it hurts. What's worse, I can feel how much he wants me in the way his hands are shaking on my ass. "Jordan, please—"
"Someone could see us," he whispers roughly. "And I love you too much to risk your reputation for fifteen minutes in a car."
I drop my head on his shoulder in frustration even as something warm and pleasant blooms in my chest.
His hand leaves my ass to curl around my nape, fingers fisting into my hair. Then he lifts my head to meet his gaze. In a wrecked voice, he commands. "Get off me, baby."
For a long moment, we just stare at each other, both of us breathing hard, both of us shaking with need.
Slowly, I climb off his lap and settle back in my seat. The loss of contact feels so wrong I want to scream. Instead, I cross my legs, trying to chase the ache between them.
Jordan sits there for a moment, both hands gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white. "I'm gonna need a minute," he rasps.
"Okay."
But a minute passes, then another, and he's still sitting there.
"Jordan?"
"Don't—" He adjusts himself in his pants. "For fuck sake stop clenching your thighs."
Sorry." I bite my lip, watching as he struggles for control. Finally, without a word, he opens the car door and steps out into the night.
He walks a few steps away, then tilts his head toward the stars, shoulders heaving.
When he finally gets back in the car, he doesn't look at me or speak. He just starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot.
The drive home is silent, but not awkward. I miss his hand on my thigh but feel his love in everything he's not saying. Every touch he's denying himself.
At a stoplight, his hand twitches toward me, then stops and clenches into a fist.
I did this to him. Wound him up, pushed him to the edge, and now he's suffering because he loves me too much to give in.
And God help me, I want him more because of it, need seeping out of my pores. How am I supposed to survive tonight without him? I'm going to have to sleep alone, empty, aching, while he drives back to his house to do the same.
It's torture.
When he pulls up a block outside my house, he finally looks at me. His eyes are dark and haunted. "What time is dinner tomorrow, baby?"
"Six thirty," I whisper.
"I'll be there. Goodnight, Sabrina."
I lean over and drop a kiss on his jaw. "I had a good time. Goodnight, Jordan. "
He closes his eyes like it hurts.
I get out of the car and walk to my house on shaking legs, feeling his eyes on me the whole way.
The moment I step inside my room and turn on the light, my phone buzzes.
