Only, he doesn’t let me go.
I reach up and tangle my fingers in his hair, tipping his head back so I can kiss his throat while I roll my hips over his erection.
I am desperate for this. For him. I am desperate to feel something good. Anything to take away the hurt inside of me.
Rory takes it away like nobody else can.
He leans forward and captures my mouth with his. And we kiss like we’ve never kissed before. This thing between us is a force of nature.
I want him.
I want him so fucking much, and I tell him so.
He takes me by the hand and drags me out the back door to his all-black Dodge Challenger. Like most men, Rory enjoys the vibrations and the sounds these babies make. And I will give him this.
He’s hot as fuck driving it.
He isn’t as flashy as Crow with his blue GranTarismo Sport because Rory is a classic. He doesn’t need the bells and whistles.
All he needs is someone who gets him.
And I’m here, and I tell him not to take me back to his place.
“Let’s do something crazy,” I beg him.
“What did you have in mind, Satan?”
“Show me what this car is made of.”
He smiles, and it’s all dimples. “Does that get ye hot, sweetheart?”
“Only one surefire way to find out.”
I relax my head and settle in while Rory drives. Far away, to an empty stretch of highway. I want him to keep going, forever and ever, with one hand on my thigh, the other on the wheel.
I toy with the radio and find a good station.
Wreak Havoc by Skylar Grey comes on.
I turn it up and Rory switches gears and lays down on the accelerator. Seventy. Eighty. Ninety and climbing.
He rolls down the windows and my hair whips around my face. I laugh and scream and push my face out the window. He pushes his hand between my thighs and inside of me.
“No knickers?” he yells over the music and the wind.
“No knickers.”
I spread my legs for him and unbutton the top of my dress. I’m wet for him, for this, for the adrenaline high I needed so badly.
He gives it to me hard.
Fucking me with his hand while he drives.
“This fast enough for you?”
“Faster,” I tell him.
The speedometer climbs and so does the tempo of his hand. I’m close, and I could get off on this. Only this.
