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Unable to stop myself, I lean in and kiss him. I’m so sure he’s going to push me away, but instead, he kisses me back, making a low noise into it that sends a thrill through me. His mouth moves with mine, and I try to press closer, the center console of the car in the way.

When we break apart, our gazes lock. Callan’s eyes are dark and hooded, heat snapping in them that I can’t look away from. He’s breathing hard, and I wonder if he’s going to go cold on me now.

“Fuck it,” he says under his breath. He fits his hand behind my head and hauls me in for another kiss.

It goes from almost gentle to heated in a matter of seconds. There’s impatience in his movements, the way he licks at the seam of my lips and then slips his tongue right into my mouth when I gasp. It feels like he’s been dying for this, like this is the culmination of wanting me and watching me, and it turns me on like nothing else in the world.

His free hand roams over me, down my arm, over my chest, touching the way he’s clearly wanted to. I give in to the urge to do the same, letting my hands explore the planes of his chest and the solid muscle of his arms. He’s so well built, and I have a spare thought that I want to get him naked so I can see every inch of him and catalogue every single tattoo.

Callan pulls back again, breathing ragged. “Fuck,” he groans. “You have no idea what you do to me. You have no idea how fucking much I want you.”

My eyes go wide at the unexpected dirty talk from him. “How much?” I pant.

He growls under his breath. “I want to fill you full of my cock. I want to feel you clenching around me. I want to fuck you until the only thing you remember is my name.”

My heart pounds, my body reacting to that immediately. How could it not when he says it in that low, hungry voice?

“Do you want that?” he asks me. “Do you want me?”

I nod, and that’s all it takes for him to pull me over the center console and into his lap. I end up straddling him, giving in to the urge to touch him even more. I get his pants open and reach in, wanting to feel skin. He’s warm and his body feels hard under mine. When I pull his cock out, I have to gasp at the sight.

He’s tattooed down there and pierced too, a quartet of barbells starting just under the head of his dick and traveling down in a ladder shape.

“Oh,” I breathe, caught off guard.

Callan follows my eyes down to his cock.

“Have you ever seen piercings and tattoos like this before?” he asks me.

I shake my head, unable to look away.

“Does it put you off?”

I shake my head again, harder this time, and he laughs low in his chest.

“Does it turn you on?”

All I can do is nod. I don’t know what it is about the sight of it that’s doing it for me, but it is. Maybe because it feels a little taboo. Even though Callan has tattoos everywhere, he didn’t strike me as the type to have tattoos and piercings here, in this intimate place.

“You’ll like them,” he murmurs, leaning in to press the words right against my ear. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good with these piercings.”

A whimper spills out of me, and Callan catches my mouth with his, kissing more of those sounds from my lips. His big hands wrap around my waist, and he pulls me down so I’m grinding against him, rolling my body in slow, undulating waves.

Pleasure shoots through me, heat gathering between my legs where I can feel him hard and ready through my clothes. It feels good, this tease of friction, but it’s nowhere close to being enough to satisfy me now that I’m getting good and worked up for him. My pussy throbs and I want to feel him.

“Please,” I groan, biting at his lip and bucking my hips forward. “Please, Callan. I want you so bad right now.”

It sounds needy, but I can’t help it. I feel like I’m caught up in a tide of emotional whiplash. Going from being so attracted to him to thinking he hated me and finding out that he doesn’t. Now that we’re this close and he’s touching me like this, I can’t get enough.

“I’m going to give you what you want,” he murmurs. “Don’t worry.”

He works a hand down the front of my pants, and I gasp when his fingers graze my pussy. I’m already wet, I can feel it, and his fingers have no issue sliding between my folds to toy with my clit.

I jolt in his lap, groaning with need as I grind down on his hand. “Please, please, please.” The begging is like a chorus now. “I need more. I need you.”

I’m breathing hard, my voice sounding wrecked and needy and we haven’t even done much yet.

But Callan’s gaze is dark with desire, so it must be doing something for him.