She reached for something closer to the back row of seats and held up an object he couldn’t make out super well in the darkness. “I mean, I have a blanket. So we’d only be sort of roughing it.”
Nate barked a laugh and immediately wished he sounded cooler, but no such luck. He sat beside Ruby and moved his hand next to hers. She was tall, and her hands weren’t all that much smaller than his, but her fingers were slimmer, more elegant. Her hand was kind of scuffed up, though, probably from her work tonight and whatever other work she might do. Made him want to grab the tube of fancy hand cream his mom always carried in her bag and work out the tightness that was probably in Ruby’s palms and wrists and forearms from hauling pitchers of water and trays full of dirty dishes all night, but his mom wasn’t here and he didn’t carry lotion in his pocket.
Best he could offer was to slip his pinkie over hers and angle toward her, shifting his knee farther onto the bed of the station wagon, and lean forward, headed for her lips. He closed his eyes before he got there, trusting that she’d close the gap, and she did.
He felt her shift and heard a soft flop he assumed was the blanket hitting the carpet beside them. And then she was kissing him. Her mouth was warm, her lips firm and not shy, nor was the way she somehow got onto her knees without breaking the kiss. Now there was a talent worth having.
She pressed on his shoulders, and he scooted back as he’d been directed. It wasn’t super comfortable, the way half his calf and a foot still dangled out of the trunk, but so totally worth it when she climbed into his lap. Oh, Christ.
Ruby was solid, hot, and she smelled like a kitchen. Not in a freshly-baked-cookies way, but in a food-prep-and-dishwater kind of way. He didn’t mind. There was something underneath all those hardworking smells that was subtle and barely there, and he was guessing it was the scent of her skin. Could someone smell soft? If they could, that’s what Ruby smelled like.
They kissed for a few minutes, and he was bold enough to move his hand to her ass and cup it through the cheap fabric of her pants. She moaned into his mouth and rocked forward so he did it more, harder, and drew her in closer until she was pressed up against him. Her ample breasts pressed against his chest, and he wanted to unbutton the shirt that was about to give up the ghost anyhow, but…they were in a parking lot. Where someone might see. And while he was positive they wouldn’t be the only ones getting it on in the great outdoors this weekend, he realized there could be consequences for her, even if for him it would be more like his friends giving him a high-five and calling him a sly dog.
He didn’t want to stop kissing her basically ever, but there was a better shot of getting to kiss her more if no one discovered them at an inopportune time. He would’ve liked it if she’d come back to his cabin, but he wasn’t going to argue with her.
He forced himself to break it off, take a breath. “Ruby, can we close the trunk?”
She smiled, looking as though she had plans for him, and god, that was sexy as hell. She half-climbed out of his lap, and after he’d gotten his feet and legs fully inside the vehicle, Ruby drew the gate closed before her gaze flashed upon his face again. “I think we’re going to need that blanket.”
Chapter Five
She mostly kept the blanket in the trunk for impromptu picnics—because fast food and gas station hot dogs tasted better when you ate them outside after a day so long you were too tired and wrung out to make something healthy—or for the times she’d throw Chloe in the car and they’d drive and drive until they got to the ocean. It wasn’t often, but she liked to be prepared. And it just so happened that now she was prepared to roll around in the bed of her station wagon with a hot guy wearing a tux. Self-five for that one.
Nate tasted like champagne and wedding cake, and he smelled like the effort of getting down on the dance floor with a lingering whiff of whatever expensive aftershave or cologne he wore. Underneath his nice tux, he was all lean muscle, and of course even after a night of hard partying, he still looked good, his hair artfully mussed. And the small sounds of desire he made while he kissed her—they were heady. He filled up her senses with all the fine things in life, and she resented him a little even as she wanted him, badly.
She shook out the blanket and pushed him onto it before attacking his bow tie. Of course it wasn’t a clip-on, and she liked the way the loose ends of it landed on the lapels of his jacket. It maybe hadn’t been the greatest idea to shove him down without having taken off his coat, but there was no way that was going to be the most awkward thing that happened while they got it on in the back of her ancient station wagon. She’d apologize to Clementine after this was all over, but she was sure the car she’d had since she was seventeen—and it hadn’t been new then—would forgive her.
Before she made Nate sit up again, she attacked the buttons on his shirt, pulled the ends from his waistband, and holy hell did the man have some nice abs. Not super-chiseled, but defined enough and with some blond hair fuzzed over them. Made him look…real. Not like some specimen out of a magazine or a mannequin, but flesh and blood that she could touch. And she would.
Now she could tug him upright and shove the lot over his shoulders and discard the resulting fistfuls of fabric to the side in a heap. They’d no doubt get wrinkled, but Nate didn’t seem to care. No, he was looking up at her as though he was under a spell. He hadn’t reached for her clothes—why was that? Did he not want to see? Or maybe he was trying to be polite? Whatever it was, she didn’t want it, didn’t need it, and frankly wouldn’t stand for it, so she reached for her own buttons and, while he was leaning back on his elbows, stripped off her shirt.
Self-consciousness reared its ugly head because sitting wasn’t the most flattering way for any woman to be naked and she wasn’t going to fool herself—she wasn’t thin. Too many desperate nights of takeout or ramen because she was hungry and exhausted and she had to get Chloe fed before bedtime. Not enough time to exercise beyond the eight to twelve hours a day she spent on her feet. To be honest, even if she had the time, she’d probably use it to sleep or pick up another shift because dammit Chloe loved riding and she’d give her this one thing even if there were so many other things she couldn’t.
And with the same fervor, she was going to take a night of pleasure from Nate Carter, because he probably had plenty to spare. Rich boys were good at hedonism, right? If he didn’t appreciate the way she looked with no shirt on, he could go find someone who had more time and energy and money to spend on themselves.
She reached back to unhook her bra, and as she slid the straps off her shoulders, Nate’s eyes went wide. It was too dark to see the exact color blue they were. If anything, they looked silvery in this light—or, rather, lack thereof. But there was no way even the darkness could hide the shine of lust. He wanted her.
“You’re gorgeous, Ruby. Tell me what you want. I want to touch you, make you feel good. Tell me how.”
The shock of his words hit her square in the chest. Had a man ever asked her what she wanted? If they had, she couldn’t remember it. They’d touched her the way they wanted to, in a manner that would get them off, and she’d put up with their fumblings.
And here was Nate, looking at her as though he wanted to devour her whole, but asking if she’d prefer for it to be by giant, consuming bites or by slow, luxurious nibbles.
She couldn’t find her words, so she grabbed one of his hands, pressed it to her breast, and squeezed. Air hissed from between both of their teeth, and she ground her pelvis against him, shameless. This want, this need that she’d buried, came back with a vengeance. Ruby urged his thumb to play over her nipple, and it gathered under their touch. When it was hard, she took it between her fingers and rolled while Nate kept kneading with his hand.
It wasn’t enough, though. She wanted more.
“Suck me,” she said and leaned forward so he could. Nate didn’t hesitate but took her nipple in his mouth and did as she’d asked, his tongue working against her and his lips closed tightly around her. It was�
�� God, she was so wet. When was the last time she’d been this aroused?
Nate’s own arousal was obvious, his erection thick and hard between them. She rocked against him and hoped he was wanting to fuck her as badly as she wanted him.
“Nate?”
He blinked, turned his eyes up to her face without taking his mouth from her breast. No, he kept sucking and worrying her nipple with his teeth, and hell, she nearly forgot what she wanted to ask him in the first place. Right. Fucking. She wanted to fuck, wanted him inside her, to fill up that space and make her come. He could, she was almost certain. And if he couldn’t, she didn’t think he’d take offense to her finishing the job herself. He’d probably watch wide-eyed and take notes for next time.
Next time? Pfft, there would be no next time. So she’d take her enjoyment where she could.
“Will you fuck me? Can we fuck? Please tell me you have a condom.”
She had an IUD, because Chloe was plenty, but that didn’t make sex safe. It just meant she wouldn’t get pregnant.
Nate finally took his mouth off her breast, and her nipple gathered in the cool air, so tight it ached. She wanted back in the wet warmth of his mouth. But it was worth it when he said, “I’d like nothing better than to fuck you. Are you going to think badly of me because I have a condom in my coat pocket?”
“No, I’ll think you’re a Boy Scout who’s going to get laid because you came prepared.”
He stared at her for a second, and it was so frigging cute she wanted to pinch his cheeks and then slap him—gently—because he needed to get over being dumbfounded and get on with the part about making her come.
But Nate made one of those funny half-laugh, half-bark sounds again and nodded. “Cool. Yep, very cool. Can I, uh…”
Right, she was sitting on him. That would make the whole retrieving-said-condom-and-gloving-up thing difficult. Reluctantly, she shifted off him, and he practically dove for his jacket, rifling through the pockets until he came up with the little foil square, victorious.
She laughed at the brightness in his face and then shrugged awkwardly. “There’s not a ton of room in here to get creative, but how do you want to do this?”
“In whatever way is to going to be easiest for you to get off. I can tell you I’m not going to have any trouble. This isn’t entirely altruistic either. I really like it when my partners orgasm. A lot.”
Oh, well. Being on top would basically guarantee it, but she felt like being on her back, getting fucked. It would take longer, but she got the feeling Nate wasn’t one to throw in the towel. No, he’d probably take it as a challenge, and she liked the idea of him spending inside her because it turned him on so much that he’d made her come. Missionary could be boring, but she didn’t think it would be with Nate.
She rolled onto her back, shimmying out of her pants and taking her entirely practical cotton underwear with them because Nate didn’t need to see those. They were faded and almost threadbare from being in the washer and dryer—who the fuck had time to hand wash? And she sure as fuck wasn’t going to air-dry some lacy nothings in the laundromat—and he was probably used to sleeping with women who had date-underwear.
Nate appeared to be too busy shucking his own pants to care much.
And then there they were, bare-ass naked in the back of Clementine, lying side by side on a blanket she’d now have to shell out extra quarters for at the laundromat.
You’d better be worth it, Nate Carter.
***
“I want you like this.”
Nate would’ve enjoyed having her on top because he couldn’t get enough of her breasts, but if she wanted him on top, no way in hell was he going to say no. He ripped open the condom and rolled it on, feeling as though he was close to bursting and she hadn’t even touched him. Not unless the whole rubbing against him through their pants counted, which apparently it did, because he was ready. But was she?
“Do you need me to…”
He knelt between her legs, ran a hand up one of her strong thighs, and was fully prepared to go in with whatever Ruby wanted or needed. Fingers, his mouth—god, anything he had, she could have it.
“No,” she said and grabbed for his hip, ending up with half a handful of his ass cheek, drawing him forward until he was almost inside her. “I don’t need anything. I’m wet, and I…I like it. Those first few strokes that aren’t easy? The way you kinda have to work yourself in?”
She closed her eyes as if she was imagining it and her lips parted. Holy. Shit. Okay, yep, he could do that for sure. He steadied himself and used a hand to guide himself. She hadn’t been kidding about being wet. His mouth watered, wanting to taste her, but that’s not what she’d asked for. Maybe next time. Because he was going to be awesome, and even if she hadn’t given him her number yet, she’d want to after this. He knew she would. That would be fantastic. To have a life here this summer instead of languishing on a couch at his parents’ with his broken leg because he’d been a fucking idiot and cementing people’s impression of him that he was above all interested in having a good time.
But his leg was totally fine now, better actually, because he’d kept going to the gym to work out even after he’d completed the stuff his physical therapist had wanted him to do. It was carved out in his schedule, so why not? He was probably in the best shape he’d been in since college, and he’d get to stay that way while he was back here as the tennis instructor for the summer, not to mention get some of his game back.
And he’d want to, because the way Ruby had looked at him when she took his shirt off—well, that had made him feel really fucking good. And here he was, about to be granted the privilege of being inside her.
She rolled her lips between her teeth, and fuck all if he was going to make her wait until she cracked an eye open as if to say, What the hell are you waiting for? Get on with it already.
So he pressed forward, and…fuck. She was so hot it was almost painful, even through the condom, and slick, too. He pushed farther, and he knew what she was talking about. There weren’t many things that felt better than sliding into a woman for the first time, and she seemed to agree, biting her lip and canting her hips to take him farther inside. It was enough to make his head drop, pause for a second so he remembered to breathe.
He did and then pulled almost all the way out, only to press inside her again. And then, with her encouragement in the form of her fingers digging into his ass, he snapped his hips forward, following Ruby’s lead, and thrust into her, again and again. She felt like heaven, and he loved how she wasn’t shy about what she wanted, what she needed. After a few minutes, she held him to her, his cock buried all the way, and rubbed herself against him.
“This,” she panted. “I like the pounding—” She laughed, a short, startled thing that went all the way to his head, better than any number of Starry Nights at getting him intoxicated. “But this is how I’m actually going to get off.”
He almost passed out, because in all likelihood, this would be how he got off, too. Especially when she let go of one side of his butt to drag him down to kiss. Thrust her tongue into his mouth so that she was doing with her tongue what he was doing with his dick, and it was mind-blowing. Plus, her breasts pressed between them, and hell, it was all too much. He wasn’t honestly sure how much longer he could hold out. He prided himself on pleasing his partners and Ruby was the last person he’d want to disappoint, but—
“Ah!” She stopped their kiss with a cry, and he felt it. The way she squeezed around him, those rhythmic pulses scrambling his brain even more. “Yes, Nate, come on.”
Ruby gripped his ass again, forcing them together, hard, as though she couldn’t get enough. The feeling was mutual, and he gritted his teeth as he gave her everything he had left before he couldn’t hold out any longer.
“God, yes. Ruby, you’re—Christ, I’m coming. You’re just—you feel too fucking good.”
And she did. So good he spilled, spilled as the aftershocks of her orgasm pulsed around him and
drew out every drop of pleasure that had been building, and then he was empty. Had nothing left to give.
He levered up on his elbows to look at her, and she was flushed and lovely. Her hair had come out of its tight bun and was strewn over the sort-of-scratchy blanket she’d put down, and he wished he could’ve done this for her in a soft bed where she could have a good night’s sleep and he’d bring her a coffee and some of the damn good pastries he knew Lexi would be serving at breakfast. Along with all the other stuff, but he’d guess Ginger’s Belgian waffles didn’t travel super well. A few danishes would be the least he could do, but here they were in the back of her car.
A hand on his face drew him back to the present, back to reality. It was Ruby, looking up at him with an expression he could only call wry.
“That was, um, amazing. Really, really good. And I hate doing this, but I have to get up early, so I should…”
She nodded to where their bodies were still joined.
“Right, yeah, of course.”
It wasn’t what he’d want to do, but he wasn’t going to be an asshole. If she needed to go, she needed to go. He’d had to do the fuck-and-run maneuver more than once himself. They both tugged on their clothes as well as they could with two people in the cargo bay of a vintage Volvo, and then she was unlatching the trunk and stepping out onto the gravel.
“So, thanks.” She drew out the s as if she didn’t really want this to end but wasn’t sure what else to say.
He bent down to kiss her, not that far, and she turned so he got her cheek. That was fine, even though it felt kind of like rejection. It probably was.
“I, um, really should go. But thanks, Nate. That was nice. I’m not just saying that. I really, really enjoyed it. And I meant what I said earlier, that you’re a good egg. So please don’t ruin the way I’m going to remember you by making it hard for me to go, okay? Or by making promises you have no intention of keeping. This was one great night, and that’s how I’ll remember you. Nate Carter, fabulous lay and overall good guy.”
Love, All (Camp Firefly Falls Book 19) Page 4
