“And what do you want?”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from blurting out how much I wouldn’t mind him partaking in the dessert he mentioned. It’s funny. Because I was nervous when he picked me up. It’s why I was kind of a brat in his truck. Not on purpose. It’s just, when I’m away from him, the differences between us seem so…monumental. And then we get together, and it’s like…none of it matters anymore. It’s only me and Jagger. Me. And Jagger. And then, even after I was kind of a brat, he surprised me by being so sweet and patient and kind and so unlike the person my brain likes to whip up when we’re apart. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around the guy beside me all night. And the guy who’s been beside me all night? I like him. I like him a lot. Add in his mention of another potential hook up, along with how well the guy knows how to get a girl off, and I’m nothing but a flurry of need.
“Vi?” Jagger prods, and I don’t miss the mirth laced in his tone. “Gonna need to hear you say it.”
Really?
I peek at him from my periphery and mutter, “You’re pushing your luck.”
“Come on, Little Thief. Do you want to go home? Or…?”
“Dessert sounds nice.” I rub my lips together. “Since it’s on the menu and all.”
“It’s on the menu, huh?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The bastard’s cocky smirk spreads across his face as he hits the gas harder. “All right, then.”
When we reach Harden Estate, he pulls through the gate and along the short but winding driveway toward the garage. Never thought I’d be happy to see this place, but here we are. I glance down at his hand still on my thigh, the same gentle sweep of his thumb driving me insane.
“If you keep looking at me like this, we’re never going to make it inside,” he points out.
“And how am I looking at you?” I whisper.
“Like the idea of me eating your pussy is almost enough to make you come right now.” He cuts the truck’s engine and turns to me. “I wonder…”
But the bastard doesn’t move. Doesn’t finish his sentence. Doesn’t do a damn thing but look at me, his dark stare making me want to flounder in my seat as his thumb continues toying with me. My chest rises and falls in an unsteady rhythm, my body tingling with anticipation.
When I can’t take it anymore. The silence. The look in his eyes. The heat of his hand. I whisper, “Wonder what?”
“If I touched you, would you come?”
Heat hits my cheeks, and I look down at his hand. It would be so easy. To spread my legs a little wider. My breathing turns shallow, the scenario playing out like a dirty movie and he hasn’t even lifted a finger. The way he’d shift his hand higher. The way I’d grip the edge of the door. The way he’d cup me through my jeans before unbuttoning my pants, and?—
“Fuck, Vi.”
I peek over at him.
“You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”
My mouth goes dry, but I don’t move a muscle.
“What it would be like. To ride my hand again.” The pressure of his fingers intensifies. “Just like you did in the classroom.”
My clit pulses at the memory, and I take in a ragged breath. Seriously, this is way too much foreplay considering he hasn’t even touched me yet. Not really. His fingers dig into my thigh, but instead of moving higher, he lets me go and reaches for the door handle. “Get your ass up to my room. I'm going to put the leftovers in the fridge.”
“Jag—”
“If I touch you here, I’m gonna come in my jeans like a teenager,” he growls.
“Where are your brothers?” I whisper.
“Out.”
“And your sister?”
“At Judge’s for dinner. Why?”
