Page 34 of Love in the Time of Conversation Hearts

“Say no more,” he mutters, and his lips meet mine again. We’re a tangle of tongues and teeth as we try to shed our coats and toss them into the back seat. With my dress hiked up over my thighs, the only things separating my core from his glorious cock are the fabric of my panties and the hard zipper fly of his pants. I grind against it, craving the friction. He groans into my mouth, and I swallow it with a frenzied kiss.

I reach between us to undo his fly, desperate for him. He lifts his hips to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, which raises me enough to bump the back of my head against the roof of the car. A breathy laugh escapes me.

“This was so much easier in high school,” I mumble as his lips find my neck again.

“Yeah, but it’s so much hotter now,” he says into my skin. It’s enough to make me melt into him. This is hot, and I realize my embarrassment is solely in how I worry he’s perceiving it. But he likes this. A lot, judging by the hard ridge of him trying to spring free over the fly of his pants. I lift myself up enough so he can shimmy his pants down over his thighs. He doesn’t bother taking them all the way off, and instead pulls a foil-wrapped condom out of the wallet in the center console.

“Let me.” I take the condom from him and tear it open. As I do, he uses a finger to push my panties to the side. He drags that finger through my center, and I shudder as I roll the condom over his length.

“You’re so wet, Cora.” He pushes his finger into me, and I gasp. “I never would have guessed you’d be the type to want this in my car.”

“Please,” I pant, grinding against his hand. “Please fuck me now.”

He removes his fingers from me. I angle myself over him as he uses one hand to keep my panties pushed to the side and the other to guide himself to my entrance. Slowly, I lower myself onto him as he stretches me lusciously full. It takes a few times of me raising and lowering myself for him to be fully seated, but it’s easier this time. I know what to expect, and I’m much more relaxed knowing he wants this as much as I do.

“You feel like you were made for me.” He tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, and it’s such a tender moment. It steals my breath away. I roll my hips against him, the friction so exquisite, I’m afraid I might come apart right then and there.

Adam’s eyes never leave mine. He kisses me deeply, then pulls back to watch me again. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Cora. You’re beautiful in that dress, and you’re beautiful with that pretty pink on your cheeks while you ride me.”

My breath quickens, and his grip on my thighs tightens. I hope his fingertips leave half-moon marks in my flesh. The idea of wearing them where no one else can see, as a secret between us, is so hot, I start picking up the pace.

“Harder,” I breathe. “Please, Adam. I can take it.”

He bucks his hips so he plunges impossibly further into me. “Yes you can, baby. You take it so well.” He hits exactly the right spot, and I gasp. “Right there?” He does it again, and I nod frantically, whimpering.

“Yes. There. Don’t stop,” I beg.

Words fail us both, then, as our bodies meet again and again. I angle myself so the most sensitive part of me hits his torso with every thrust, and when his grip on my thighs tightens even more, I come apart. My muscles clench around him with my release. I bury my head in his shoulder as he follows me over the edge, spilling into me as his body trembles underneath.

When we’re both spent and our labored breathing has returned to almost normal, I lift my head from his shoulder to see the windows are completely fogged over. That dull glow is now fractured into a thousand pinpricks of light, like our own personal solar system within arm’s reach.

Adam shifts so he can remove the condom. He knots it and pulls his pants back up over his trim hips. He pushes a button to defog the windows, and air whooshes out of the vents.

“Stay here,” he says as he moves from underneath me and out of the car. I hear the lid of my dumpster lift and lower, and then he comes back in on the driver’s side.

“So,” he says with forced nonchalance. “Dinner?”

I pause in my efforts to straighten out my dress, my brow furrowed. “You still want to go to dinner?”

He huffs a laugh and smooths a hand through his hair. “Well, I won’t lie and pretend that I didn’t want the night to end like this one way or another, but… of course I want to take you to dinner. I asked you on a date, remember?”

He’s taking me on a date. A real one. I can’t help the giddy feeling that rises up from my belly, and I know my smile reflects it. He matches it, his eyes flashing in the yellow of the porch light.

“Okay. But it better be nice,” I tease. “I’m not cheap.”

He laughs heartily before placing his hand on my headrest to check out the rear window. “I’d expect nothing less,” he says as he backs out of the driveway. When he puts the car into drive, he reaches over to take my hand, threading his fingers with mine. Without taking his eyes off the road, he kisses each of my knuckles, and that giddy feeling rises again.

I like Adam Sullivan. A lot. And it feels really good.