Tempt Me Tonight (25 page)

She peered over at him in the darkness, her eyes glimmering with a readiness he could only have dreamed of as a kid. “Come to me, baby,” he said, reaching out to help her climb smoothly over the console until she was straddling him tight in the Cobra’s driver’s seat.

He’d never felt anything warmer than the way that softest part of her hugged his erection. “You feel
so
damn good,” he whispered, drinking in the scent of her flowery perfume as he bracketed her hips with his hands. He let his palms glide up, up, slowly, until he framed her breasts with his thumbs and forefingers.

She hissed in a hot breath of pleasure that stiffened him further still. “You feel good, too,” she assured him in that same low, sexy purr as she began to move, rubbing against him below. “So hard.”

His own breath grew thready as he closed his hands fully over those lovely breasts and began to knead her. So soft, so round, so…Trish.

“Ah…” she moaned, her head falling back as she arched further into his grasp.

Oh yeah, baby. Give yourself to me.
He massaged deeply, lifted his pelvis to meet her hot grind, found himself tweaking her beaded nipples between thumb and finger through her top and bra. He was being consumed by her, by all that she was, by every pleasure she delivered merely by letting him hold her, touch her.

“I need this off you,” he said, pulling at the hem of her top. As many times as they’d been together now, he’d only seen her breasts on that first occasion, when he’d been almost too shocked to fully enjoy them. This time he planned to drink his fill.

She hesitated, looking resistant—but he continued pushing the ribbed fabric up, revealing her smooth stomach and a hint of a pastel bra, until she finally said, “Oh, what the hell,” and ripped the shirt off over her head to fling it to the other seat.

He growled at the sight of her sumptuous curves arching from smooth pink cups, and immediately went for her bra straps, drawing them down—he wanted her out of the damn thing. He didn’t see a clasp in front, so reached around back, deftly unhooking it and watching it loosen around her. He used both hands to pull it away, off her arms, leaving the heavy beads around her neck to fall between her beautifully bared breasts in the moonlight.

“Jesus,” he sighed at the view.

Above him, her laugh held an ounce of trepidation. “You’d better be sure about no one coming here.”

The truth was, at this moment, as he ran his hands over her ass through the skirt, so sweet and firm, he no longer cared if anyone came here or not. His mind was too fully wrapped around
her
to think of anything else. “The worst that would happen is a cop will tell us we have to leave.”

“And see me like this!”

He cast a wicked grin. “It’ll be the highlight of his night, honey, I promise.” Was she wearing a thong? He didn’t feel any panties.

But he forgot that quickly enough when he lifted his touch back to her breasts, so perfect and round, her dark nipples taut and pointed for him. He pinched them slowly, sensually, just enough to make her purr some more, as he rhythmically massaged the soft flesh around them. “I’ve missed these, baby,” he said, peering up at her and hoping like hell that wasn’t the wrong thing to say, the wrong moment to remind her of the time and distance that had split them.

“They’ve missed you, too.”

Aw, God,
yes.
He let his eyes fall shut—but only for a minute, because he had to see her, had to soak her up.

Leaning in, he let his tongue flick gently across one dusky nipple, then listened to her lovely little whimper of delight. He licked her again, and again, his hands back on her ass now, pulling her down to meet his body, tight, tight, so damn good. Then he closed his mouth over her breast, suckling, gentle and soft, and needing more of her so bad that he feared he’d begin to tremble.

“You taste so good, Trishy,” he whispered against her flesh.

“I want you inside me.”

Jesus God—thank you.

“Want to know a secret?” she asked.

Joe lifted his gaze to hers, practically drunk on her, and nodded.

Her eyes took on a whole new sultry, wicked gleam that reminded him of the night she’d come to his house and seduced him. “You bring out my inner biker chick.”

A groan left him as that image shot down through his body, all the way to his cock. “
Aw, baby.
That’s
so
hot.”

“Remember my tight black dress? That was her.”

He nodded some more, lost in her eyes, her body. “I
liked
her. A lot.”

Now her voice came lower, breathy, sexy as hell. “You make me…want to do things. You make me want to be bad for you.”

Another hard moan left him in response as need roared through him like a locomotive. He began to gather the fabric of her skirt in large fistfuls, working his way underneath, and when he got there, he indeed found nothing but a tiny strip of fabric stretching down the center of her ass. He could barely speak through his labored breath. “How much do you like these panties?”

“Huh?” She was breathless now, too.

“I’m gonna rip them unless you tell me not to. ’Cause I need them off you,
now.
”

“Rip them,
” she said. No hesitation any longer, not a hint of doubt.

He found the narrowest part, where they made a T in back, and used both hands to tear until they snapped and fell away from her. She gasped slightly as he slid his fingertips down the valley of her ass, passing over the tight little fissure there until his fingers sank into her warm, welcoming moisture below. “Ohhh,” she moaned.

“Wet,” he whispered.

“All day,” she breathed. “From thinking about you.”

He let out a rough groan, slipping two fingers inside her as she hotly met his gaze.

“Move on them,” he told her.

“Unh,” she replied, and rocked against his straining hardness in front and his fingers in back. He watched her, feeling her sensual rhythm echo through him, knowing he was getting her hotter and hotter—and he was starting to wonder if she was about to come when she suddenly fell into hard, heated convulsions, writhing against him, drenching his hand still more, crying out, “Oh God, Joe! Oh God! Oh God!”

Oh baby.
He watched her beautifully hypnotic dance, entranced by her and whispering, “That’s right, baby, come for me, ride it out, that’s so good,” until finally she sank against his body, her arms closing warm around his neck. She almost seemed to wilt. He, on the other hand, felt supercharged.

“Are you okay?” he asked low, near her ear.

He felt her nod, said no more, let her rest—and tried not to freaking explode in his pants.

Finally, after a few deep breaths, trying to relax, he whispered in her ear again. “Was it good, honey?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder to face him. “Mmm.”

Damn, he liked that—his Trishy sated in his arms, too pleasured for words. “And I’m not even inside you yet.”

The reminder seemed to break her free from her post-climactic lethargy—thank God. Because he liked her sated, but he was still on the edge himself. He tried to be a patient man, yet with Trish he’d not been very successful so far, and right now his cock physically hurt.

He watched as she sat up, cast the most predatory look he’d ever seen on her face, then leaned back on him and began to undo his belt buckle. His erection strained behind, anxious and ready, as she used both hands, one after the other, to pull the length of his belt from the loops. When it was free, she tossed it out of the car, into the grass!

“Hey,”
he said, shocked.

She spoke low, sexy, controlling. “You’ll get it later.”

“Yeah, I’ll get it later,” he murmured, glancing down to where she was reaching into his jeans now, wrapping her fist full around him, and freeing him from his underwear.
Aw, yeah.
She instantly caressed him, stroked him, squeezing firmly, making him grit his teeth in heated delight. “Oh God, baby.”

She’d touched him like this the first time they’d had sex, too—but now he felt it more, because he wasn’t trapped in stunned confusion this time, and because she seemed so much more to him like Trish now,
his
Trish—as if the girl he’d loved had just gone away for a while, taken a long vacation from him, but now she was back and even more perfect than she’d been before.

She pumped him lightly, again, again, and he thought he’d die from the pleasure—but that was nothing compared to when she scooted back, right up against the steering wheel, so that she could bend down to lick a sizzling hot trail around the tip of his erection.

Another deep groan escaped him through clenched teeth, and then she was sinking down, down, and his hands were in her hair, massaging her scalp, and he almost couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. There was nothing but sensation, profound bliss, and it was Trish giving it to him, and it was a miracle that didn’t seem real.

But the bliss escalated, hotter, hotter, and when finally she rose off him, her lips appeared slightly swollen, and he immediately needed them beneath his. So he pulled her into a hard kiss, pressing his tongue between, drinking her up in yet another way, letting his hands roam her sweet breasts, her round ass under the skirt she still wore, the hot moisture between her thighs. “Ride me,” he forced out between hot kisses to her mouth, her throat. “I need in you.”

He heard her suck in her breath, then felt her lift—and sheathe him. “Oh!” she cried, sinking down.

He groaned. She was so wet, so warm, so tight, encasing him in thick velvet. He’d had sex with a lot of women, and he’d had it several times now with Trish—but he’d still never felt anything more amazing than this moment.

Then, somehow, things slowed.

Her breasts swayed softly with her movements.

He looked up into her eyes.
So long I’ve wanted you, Trishy—so, so long.

Through the car speakers, Josh Turner sang “Your Man,” a song of slow lovemaking, and he felt her tune into it as well, letting her rhythm match the music.

He heard himself whisper to her—he told her she was beautiful, perfect, his perfect lover, and he sensed her circular motions somehow deepening, tightening, still slow but more heated.

“Kiss my breasts,” she pleaded, and he gave her what she needed, kissing, licking, suckling. “Harder—
please,
” she whispered, making his chest constrict, so he pulled more firmly with his mouth, dug his fingers into her ass, thrust higher into her.

And then she shattered again, screaming his name, and God’s, until Joe realized he
was
damn thankful no one else was around, because she was beautifully loud.

And it pushed him over the edge—everything about her, her soft moves mingling with her rougher needs, her hesitation coupled with her enthusiasm, and now her orgasm, echoing through the night. He couldn’t hold back and didn’t try, coming deep inside her—hard, hard, hard—the mind-numbing ecstasy owning him for a few long, idyllic moments when he vaguely heard himself muttering, “Oh God,” and “Trish,” then felt her collapse into his arms.

They stayed quiet and still for a few minutes after. He could have stayed that way all night, could have easily fallen asleep, but fought it.

Finally, her voice cut gently through the music still playing. “Wow—amazing.”

Still in a post-orgasmic haze, he shifted, peering down to where she nuzzled at his shoulder. “Huh?”

She gazed up, her eyes bigger, more luminous, than usual. “I don’t usually…uh…come twice.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, the declaration waking him up. “You do with me,” he pointed out. “I made you come twice in your hotel room, too.”

She bit her lip, looking well pleasured as she remembered. “Oh yeah, you’re right. I guess I did. I guess this means it’s sort of…getting to be a habit.”

Joe couldn’t help enjoying just a pinch of masculine arrogance as he cast a playful grin. “I bet you’re starting to wish you hadn’t waited so long to come home.”

Her pretty laughter filled the night as she slapped playfully at his chest. Then her expression edged into something slightly coquettish and all the way sexy. “Next time, though,” she said, “not in the car.”

He lowered his chin at a scolding, teasing angle. “Hey, don’t disrespect the car. What’s wrong with the car?”

She sat up slightly. “The car’s
great
for riding in. But a smidge cramped. Next time, Joe, a bed. We need a bed. I want to stretch out with you. I want to take my time.”

His stomach hollowed. “Well, cupcake, when you put it that way—okay, next time, a bed.”

After Joe pulled the Cobra into the garage and locked it up tight, he found Elvis curled up by the front door in his usual spot. It was late but still warm out, so Joe eased down onto the top porch step as the dog slowly rose to greet him. “Hey, bud—takin’ it easy?”

Elvis settled back into a big ball of hound dog at Joe’s side, so Joe scratched behind his ear and tried not to think about Trish. “I’d be smarter,” he said to the dog, “if I just handled my sex life like you do. A quick roll in the hay, some nose-rubbing, then you’re gone, right?”

Of course, he
had
handled his sex life that way up to now, minus the nose-rubbing part. Generally, Joe slept with a woman a time or two and that was it—he wasn’t interested in more. It wasn’t some macho thing, just usually an honest loss of interest that had left more than one woman hating him.

But with Trish, each time he was with her he wanted more of her. Each time it was over, he wanted it again, and again. He didn’t even know what to do with a need like that—he’d never felt it before.

“She’s going home soon, El.” He peered down at the dog’s sleepy eyes. “So what would you do if you were me? Try to stop this, try to leave her alone—or get as much of her as you could while you’ve got the chance?”

Looking bored, Elvis yawned and let his dark eyes fall shut.

Joe just shook his head. “I think you and me have different priorities, buddy.”

But he already knew the answer, with or without Elvis’s help. It would be smarter to back off, cool things down, just a little.

Because tonight…tonight something had changed.