“Such good manners,” she murmurs as I turn into my driveway at last. I take it at a fairly reckless speed and she reaches her left hand out to stroke my beard. It smells like her musk, and I clench my jaw even harder. “So polite.Fuck.”
“Not yet.”
“I’mnot.”
“Almost there,” I say, and reach up to catch her hand in mine, pressing a blind kiss to her wrist. “You’re so patient. Thank you.”
“Hurryup,” she whispers, and finally the gravel widens out into my small parking area, a clearing in front of my house. I slam on the brakes too hard and forget to put the car into gear before I turn it off, push it into park, shut it down. I’m shaking and frantic and feel staticky with arousal, like it’s all-consuming.
It’s cool outside as I come around the car, one hand on the too-hot hood. Reid’s car isn’t there and I say a quick prayer that he’s not either, and then I’m yanking Andi’s door open and her seatbelt’s off and she tries to stand but I duck and push her back down. My mouth is hot and wild and desperate on hers and she goes back willingly, her hands in my hair. Something on the center console clicks or breaks when she puts her weight on it and I don’t give a fuck.
My knees hit gravel and the buckle of the seatbelt smacks against the open door and Andi’s legs are spread in front of me, the headlights so bright against the trees that it’s nearly impossible to see anything else, but I know this by now. I drag my face up her thigh and feel her squirm, so I wrap my hands around both of them, my knees shifting against gravel, and it hurts but it’s a good distraction from what my dick is trying to do.
I find Andi’s clit in the dark, by feel, and she’s already got one hand in my hair. It doesn’t take long and it doesn’t take much finesse before she’s shaking and sayingJesus fuck yes, fuck, Gideonand I grab her thighs and hold her closer and stroke her through it gently as I can, even past the part where her thighs jolt and she lets me go. I taste her until she pushes me off and sits up, something else on the console clicking or snapping or breaking, and then she sits in the passenger seat, legs akimbo as I kneel in front of her.
She takes my face in her hands and kisses me.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
ANDI
“Stand,”Gideon says, and I do. My legs are a little unsteady but he pulls me to one side, props me against his car, leans in. The headlights go off. Something stops dinging. He shuts the passenger door and then he’s kissing me again, slow and thorough, one hand on my thigh underneath my dress. I lean back a little and part my legs for him, and he takes the invitation, pulling back and gazing at me as he runs his fingers up the inside of my thigh, where it’s still sticky.
“You can,” I say, and I mean ten things at once: he could put his hand on me again, in me; his mouth. He could strip me naked. He could leave me clothed and fuck me against the back door of his Toyota, out here in the cooling night.
“That what you want?” he says, and he leans his forehead against mine. He’steasingme. “You’re so impatient and greedy that you can’t make it into the house?”
“No,” I scoff, the rough pad of his thumb sliding over the thin skin of my hip. I breathe into the feeling. “I’ve never been impatient, even once.”
I can feel him smiling as he kisses me again, bending me slightly backward against the car windows. He’s hard against my hip so I grab him and pull him against me until he groans.
“Come on,” he finally says, and pulls back.
Inside he shuts the door, locks it, gets his shoes off, and slides a hand around the back of my neck to kiss me again, gentle and possessive all at once. I kiss him back and get my hands on him, grab his belt loops, haul him in. I bite his lower lip and push the heel of my hand against his dick, straining against the zipper on his pants, but he takes my wrist and pushes it away.
“No,” he says, his mouth barely leaving mine.
“Because I forgot to say please?”
Gideon’s breath catches.
“Can I please touch you?” I murmur, and he takes my hand and puts it on his back, pressing the length of our bodies together.
“Not yet,” he says, kisses me, draws back. “Upstairs.”
When we get to his bedroom I turn and sprawl on the bed, propping myself up on my elbows, skirt riding up and legs wide.
“Now?” I ask, as he closes the door.
“Sofuckingimpatient,” he mutters, but he crawls on top of me and puts his mouth to my neck. I tilt my head back, offering myself. “No, not yet. There’s something I want to try first. Take your clothes off.”
He gives my neck a final lick and sits back on his heels, his hair wild, the room lit by one bedside lamp. I push myself up on my elbows again, just to get an eyeful, and he skates a hand up my thigh.
“Please?” he says, before I can say anything. “I can make it worth your while. And I askedsonicely.”
I lift my hips, tug my dress up, then sit and pull it all the way off. Gideon’s watching me, on his knees, hands on his thighs, attentive and relaxed and a little predatory, all at once. His erection is straining against the zipper of his pants so hard it has to hurt—looks that way, at least, I’ve never had one and wouldn’t know—but aside from a slight flex of his fingers, he ignores it. I toss the dress away, unhook my bra, get rid of that too until I’m propped up on my hands, watching him watch me.
“God, Andi,” he says, all grumbly and whispery, one dark curl tumbling onto his forehead. “You look like—a painting. A sculpture.”
