I couldn’t argue with that.
After I paid for my snack loot—plus Matty’s sunflower seeds—I stepped outside for some air. Maybe the frigid temperatures would clear my head . . . and numb my greedy dick.
Just as I reached for my phone to text my sister, a glimpse of honey blonde curls rounding the back of the building snagged my attention. I’d know those curls anywhere.
I snuck a glance to make sure nobody was around before I followed her around the back. When she emerged from the single stall restroom a few minutes later, I pushed my way inside, closing the door behind both of us.
She yelped when I reversed our positions, backing her against the door. Any nerves she was feeling fled when my lips met hers. I dropped my snacks to the ground, trading the bag for two handfuls of Clarke’s ass.
“Fuck,” I groaned into her mouth. “I’ve been dying for a taste of you all day.”
“So, taste me,” she said breathlessly before dragging my lips back to hers.
There was nothing like this. The first few weeks, or sometimes months, in a new relationship when you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. When you had to have each other three, four times a day, regardless of the time and place. It was the same rush, same thrill I got from hitting a homerun or knocking the catcher on his ass at home plate.
Clarke and I had already rounded the bases—once at Matty’s place and then again in my trailer—but that hadn’t quenched my craving for her any less. On the contrary, now that I knew what I’d been missing, it only made me want her more.
I hoisted her farther up the wall, aligning her pussy perfectly with my throbbing cock. It would be so easy to just dry fuck her until we both came in our pants like teenagers. I’d never hear the end of it from the guys if I came back to the bus with stained joggers, but it might be worth it.
I, however, had something else in mind.
I snaked a hand down between us, flicking open the button of her jeans. She tore her mouth away when I eased her zipper down.
“We can’t do this here,” she protested, her fingernails digging half-moons into the base of my neck. A part of me hoped they would leave a mark. I’d more than marked up her neck and shoulders the last few days, so turnabout was fair play. “Anybody could catch us.”
“Isn’t that the idea, blondie?”
Number two. Somewhere we could get caught.
My eyes searched hers. If she wanted this to continue, she was going to have to learn to start using her words. This was her list, her fantasy, and while I was more than happy to fulfill it, I would never pressure her. If she wanted me to zip up her pants and get back on that bus, I’d do it.
An adorable crease formed between her brows, a clear indicator that her brain was waging war with her body.
“What do you want, Clarke?”
“I-want-you-to-make-me-come,” she blurted out before turning her face away.
You can run, blondie, but you can’t hide.
I caught her chin between my fingers, tilting her head back until eyes met mine. They glittered with desire. I smoothed a thumb along her lower lip, tracing the length of it back and forth painstakingly slowly.
“Try again,” I ordered, tucking my thumb ever so lightly between her lips. A shutter rippled through me when she closed her lips around it, sucking, tasting the heat of my skin. “What do you want?”
This time, her words were slow and direct, edged with hunger.
“I want you to make me come.” Her eyes twinkled before she tacked on, “Now.”
That was all I needed to hear.
My fingers breached her panties, sending her head thudding back against the wall. Fuck AC/DC; I’d take a soundtrack of Clarke’s moans as my walk-up song any day of the season. Buttoned-up Clarke was one thing, but sex-starved, wanton Clarke was something else entirely. Especially knowing that I was the one that brought it out of her.
I pressed two fingers deep inside her, curling them to rub against the spot that I knew would drive her crazy. Her hands tightened on my shoulders as she struggled to lift herself up andoff my fingers, only to force them deeper again. It was cute, the fact that she thought she was the one running the show. That I might justlether ride my fingers until she came.
Time to change that.
She closed her eyes, savoring the thumb swirling around her engorged clit while the other gauged the ragged pulse at her neck. My hand slid around her throat until finally, I fisted the back of her neck, forcing her face down.
“I love how wet you are for me,” I whispered against her lips. Her pussy clenched in response. “Imagine what people would think if they knew you were letting me get you off in a dirty gas station bathroom.”
