Page 115 of Finding Storm

I’m staring at her, grinning, my eyes flickering between the road and her because I can’t not look at her. Because she’s beautiful and sexy and fucking awesome.

And I’m hard. Yep, that’s right; my dick is hard. Because this is what she does to me. I’ve never known anyone like her before.

I get hard from hearing her laugh. From laughing with her. I’m either losing my fucking mind or this is how it is for everyone when they meet the girl.

And she is the girl.

She’s my girl.

I come off the 95, taking the turn heading for the bridge, to drive us onto the island where the marina is and where her dad’s boat is kept. There are some nice beaches on here. Not that we’ll be able to see them. The sun has set now, and night has come in. But then I’m not coming here to look at the beaches.

I want to make out with my girl in my car.

I follow the road round the island and park the car up in a space facing out over the water. There are no other cars around.

It’s just me and her.

I turn off the engine, plunging us into darkness, leaving the music playing.

I shove my seat back as far as it will go. “Come here,” I say to her, holding out a hand.

She takes my hand and climbs over into my lap, tucking her legs between mine.

I cup her chin in my hand and kiss her. Softly at first. But it quickly turns into more. Deeper. Wanting.

Because I want her all the damn time.

I’ve been holding back with her even though I’ve felt her pushing for more.

I haven’t wanted to rush things with her.

But now, I’m feeling the time that I have left here with her. Like it’s slipping through my fingers.

Her hand slides into my hair, gripping. She moans into my mouth. It’s like a lightning rod to my dick.

Def Leppard’s “Hysteria” is now playing on the radio, and I’m feeling every single one of those fucking lyrics.

Because that’s how I feel about her. Hysteria when she’s near. Like I’m coming out of my skin with wanting her.

It’s amazing and scary and fucking intense.

But I want all of these feelings.

I want all of her.

My hand slides up her bare leg to her thigh, fingers inching under the hem of her denim skirt.

She shifts restlessly in my lap. Her ass pressing against my hard, aching dick.

I suck on her tongue, at the same time grazing the underside of her tit with my thumb, knowing it drives her crazy.

She squirms against me.

Then, she grabs ahold of my hand and guides it down, putting it between her legs. “Touch me,” she whispers. “Please.”

I almost come out of my seat. And my dick.

I haven’t suffered premature ejaculation since I figured out what my cock was for. But I have a feeling I’ll be coming in my pants like a preteen the second I put my hand on her.