Not that it made any difference to him.
The moment she did, he redoubled his efforts. He worked those fingers tighter against that taut, soaked material, until it almost felt as if it was skin to skin. Until he came close to stroking over her clit, and sinking into her cunt. Only not quite, not quite, oh it wasn’t nearly enough. Not with him, at least. Years of clumsy, groping hands from men she barely liked, always wanting to push them away.
But he made her so desperate she actually found herself rubbing into him. And when he gasped out, “Yeah, show me what you want, show me how far you think I should go,” she couldn’t help herself. She slid her fingers under the elastic of her panties herself, and frantically eased them aside. Then urged him there, right there, where she most wanted him to be.
But god, he went still when she did.
He made a sound of shock, a guttural thing.
And for just a second he tried to pull back. “Not inside you,” he groaned. “You don’t want me inside you. Let me touch you somewhere else first. Let’s start over, let’s do the bases. What’s the second one? I don’t know, I don’t remember.”
But the thing was, she didn’t remember, either.
All she knew was how much she ached for those thick fingers sliding into her, filling her. Like he’d been working on her for hours, and she was past the point of waiting. Though she supposed, in one way, he had. He’d been doing it for days. Since the moment he walked into her store.
She just hadn’t fully let her body feel it, until right now.
She’d been scared to let her body feel it, until right now.
Always thinking of this as pretend, always imagining it wasfleeting. Sure he wanted someone else, so couldn’t possibly want her. Until right now, right here, with him just teetering on the brink, making it better and sweeter and hotter because he could wait, he wanted to wait, he didn’t know if he should just go ahead.
So she showed him how much she wanted him to.
She simply urged herself against that teasing, stroking touch, until she felt herself open for him. Like it had always been so simple, despite the fact that it never had been for her. Hell, even he seemed stunned by it. “Oh, you take that so easy,” he moaned, as he worked her. Like he’d imagined she wouldn’t. Like he’d thought she might be too small or too closed to him. Instead of what actually happened: she took him right up to the knuckle. She took him crooking it, and rubbing insistently.
And when he teased her with a second finger, she took that, too.
“Please, please, please,” she gasped, and there was no hesitation now. He worked the second one alongside the first until she was filled. She was almost being fucked by those thick fingers, over and over, almost relentlessly in a way that had her trembling and gasping. Though of course she knew it wasn’t just the physical sensations that were making her lose it.
It was the way he behaved as he did it.
How he kept his eyes between her legs. Like all of this was so fascinating and incredible he couldn’t do anything else. He needed to see her all slick around him, and getting slicker by the second. He wanted to watch what made her tighten, what had her hips lifting, what made her thighs shake—in part, she thought, because the sight excited and stunned him.
But also so he could build on it.
Sheknewhe was building on it.
Crooking his fingers when just a little of that made her squirm. Rubbing harder and stroking deeper the second her hand went to his shoulder and clutched him there, and tried to haul him closer.And when she started to shudder, and her breath caught in her throat, and oh god, something was happening, it was, it was—
“It’s almost like you’re gonna come,” he said, half laughing at himself for saying it. Hell, she wanted to laugh with him. She’d had men work on her for twenty minutes and not gotten close. Been by herself for even longer, and still not gone over the edge. She wasn’t even sure she ever had, really.
Because it hadn’t felt like this.
And this wasdefinitelyan orgasm.
Oh god, it was. It was so much of one that she almost wanted to fight it. It felt too intense, too big—she had to grit her teeth against it. Push him away and pull him closer, all at the same time, as every muscle in her body seemed to tense. And when it did, he felt it. He understood it.
He looked up, startled. Stunned, even.
Just as she lost herself to the incredible sensations pouring through her. “Oh Jack,” she moaned. “Oh Jack, you make me feel so good.” And then it was happening, it was really happening. She was really coming. Jack Jackson had made her come in the front seat of his truck, at the drive-in, just by touching her between her legs.
And so thoroughly she couldn’t be ashamed.
He didn’t seem to want her to be. He moaned when she did, kissed back as heatedly as she did when she searched for his mouth and claimed it. And when she made a thick, hot sound of pleasure right into him, she felt how much it affected him. His whole body seemed to stiffen; that heat in him intensified. Just like the night before, on his couch.
Only this time, he didn’t wrench away from her.
She wasn’t sure he could, truth be told.
