“You’re welcome.”
He looks at me for a second longer than usual, his eyes searching mine. “You look really beautiful tonight, babe.”
My smile stretches wider. “Thank you.”
“Do you remember your twenty-fifth birthday? On the rooftop?” he asks.
“Of course, I do. That was a great night. Why?”
He shrugs. “The dress you’re wearing,” he says, eyes dragging over me. “It reminds me of the one you wore then.”
I arch a brow. “You remember the dress I wore?”
“Not really.” He leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “But I remember taking it off.”
I laugh softly, meeting his lips with a kiss. “Why am I not surprised?”
His mouth moves to my ear, his hand inching higher up my thigh.
“You wanna fool around?”
His breath is hot against my skin, low and dangerous, and my pulse stutters. His thumb skims up the center of me over my underwear—light as a feather, barely there. A wave of heat crashes between my thighs, building with every second.
“What about Pete?” I whisper, nodding toward the front of the car.
Matt leans forward and pulls the privacy curtain closed with a smooth tug.
“There,” he says quietly. “Problem solved.”
A finger slips beneath the fabric, and I let out a sharp exhale.
“But he can hear?—”
His finger curls.
“Ohhh,” I gasp, my head falling back, eyes fluttering shut.
He chuckles under his breath. “Then you better be quiet.”
Another finger joins the first, swirling slow and deliberate, curling just right.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my hips lifting instinctively.
My breath grows uneven. My pulse pounds harder. Every small movement builds into something hotter, heavier.
He moves deeper, faster now, finger-fucking me until my breath turns ragged and I’m a mess of broken gasps.
His mouth grazes my collarbone while his other hand slips into the side of my dress, palming my breast.
That does it.
The release hits me hard. Sharp. Electric.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me. Let me hear it.”
Fuck it.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, not nearly quiet enough.
