20
THE BEST IDEAS ARE BAD IDEAS
Rhys
Kissing Margot is a bad idea.
But it’s the only idea—it’sbeenthe only idea—and every part of me is on board.
My hands. My mouth. My dick. What’s left of my brain after her lips touch mine.
And she’s not a start-softly kisser.
Not tonight.
Tonight, she’s an if we’re doing this, we’re doing this kisser.
She knocks my hat off and plunges her hands into my hair while she devours my mouth with hers, and I can’t stop the feral, possessive growl that rumbles low in my throat as I reach across the console to pull her closer to me.
I haven’t made out with a woman in my truck since I was a teenager, and having Margot crawl into my lap in the driver’s seat is turning me on in a way I haven’t been aroused in what feels like just as long.
Her ass lands on the steering wheel, and the horn honks, which sends us both into a fit of laughter.
I hit the button to recline the seat while peppers kisses over my lips, but the motor is so fucking slow that her ass honks the horn three more times before my seat’s fully back.
“We should go inside,” she gasps between kisses.
“No.” I hook a hand around her neck and pull her tighter for a deeper kiss.
My cock is throbbing. My heart is racing. Her tongue glides against mine, and my brain forgets how to brain. I grip her bare thighs under her skirt, feel hot, smooth skin over her thick muscles, and my dick hardens to steel granite diamonds—if that’s not a thing, it’s what my cock is now—while my heart pounds even faster.
She pushes my shirt up, her hot little hands exploring my chest while she settles her hips over mine, cradling my hard-on with her pussy, and I get that warning sensation in my gut that tells me I’m two thrusts from blowing my load.
Inside.
She’s right.
We should go inside.
“I’ve never done this in the front seat of a car,” she says.
We should stay right here. “Truck’s here all night.”
She smiles and kisses me again.
Her hands are magic, skimming over my chest hair and finding my nipples, giving them a quick tweak before she glides her fingers down to the button on my jeans. “Stop me when I go too far,” she says.
As if she could. “No too far. Kiss more.”
She’s giggling as her lips find mine. She pops the button on my jeans and dips her fingers beneath the waistband, the heady scent of her arousal tickling my nose.
And not for the first time tonight.
Remembering how she smelled on the drive to dinner—that’s what’s had me half-hard all night.
And now she’s straddling my lap and I’m caressing her thighs and she’s sticking her hands down my pants to—ahhh, yesssss, fuuuuuuuck.
Her warm fingers wrap around my cock, and it’s all I can do to not come on the spot.
