by Anne Marsh
“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” she pointed out. She sounded like she knew precisely how bullshit her answer was though, and he’d bet she had an itemized list of her reasons for coming—and another list with her reasons for staying away.
“I wanted to ride with you. Last night wasn’t enough. I was thinking in terms of start and it turns out you were thinking in terms of end.” He pressed his thigh forward, her skirt fluttering on either side of the denim like a white flag of surrender. Or, more likely, a pirate flag, if he was getting all metaphorical.
“Oh.” She gave a greedy whimper, rocking on his thigh, and that one word sure didn’t sound like an objection to him.
Safety outside the bedroom—and sexy dangerous times inside the bedroom. His plan was simple. And Mercy... she was curious. She was a woman in charge of her life, her career, her body. He aimed to change that last bit, to feed her curiosity about the way he could make her feel if she handed over control to him.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being the good girl, the law-abiding one? You don’t want to break the rules just once and see what it feels like?”
“That would be a career liability, wouldn’t it?” Her eyes slowly focused on a point somewhere over his shoulder, like she was considering his suggestion. While she thought, she ran a hand up his neck. He probably wasn’t supposed to get so horny from the simple touch—hell, he didn’t even know if she was really aware of how she was trailing her fingertips over the sensitive skin at the back of his neck—but he knew one thing for certain. He wanted all of her attention focused on him.
So he leaned in and kissed her. Wasting this opportunity would be stupid. He had her alone, her body pinned between his and the wall. And she felt soft and sweet, which drove him crazy. He moved his lips over hers, swallowing her small exclamation of pleasure. Needing to feel more of her, he cupped her face in his hands, angling her mouth so he could deepen their kiss. Hungrily, he threaded his fingers gently through her hair, tugging at the ponytail’s tight confines. She felt so warm, so goddamn perfect in his arms that he wanted to eat her right up. Kiss her mouth, her pretty breasts, and keep right on going lower. The way she tasted drove him crazy, and getting more of her was mission critical.
She moaned, the husky sound setting him on fire. Yeah. He had so many plans for her. He leaned in closer, her breasts a sweet cushion against him. They had too many clothes on. His T-shirt. Her shirt. And God... was she even wearing a bra? Her nipples were tight, hard nubs pressed against his chest. Finding out would be his pleasure.
He reached down and fisted the hem of her skirt. The floaty stuff obediently drew upward.
She stiffened, like kissing at the lookout was one thing, but naked was a whole world of off-limits.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He grinned at her. Shit. She made him happy. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”
Her mouth opened. Closed. She was cute when she was flustered. She also had beautiful legs, the tops of her thighs soft and curvy in a way that just begged him to wrap his hands around the delicate skin and hold on. She squeaked when he trailed his fingers over her knee, tugging her skirt higher. She was ticklish.
“Hold your skirt up for me and I’ll show you.”
***
“Why?” She needed to stop talking. Joey had short-circuited her brain. That was the problem. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be asking stupid questions or letting him undress her outside where anyone could see them.
He didn’t stop his slow, inexorable, upward tug of her hemline. Cool air hit her thighs and then higher as her skirt brushed her panties. “I definitely like your dress.”
Oh. God. The slow smile was back on his face. That smile made her want to nod dumb agreement and give him whatever he wanted.
“You going to do what I ask you to do?”
Or not give him whatever he wanted. She jerked back, head bumping against the wall as her eyes met his. God. He had gorgeous eyes. She liked the naughty gleam—okay, it made her wetter than she cared to admit—but was he truly going to insist on her obeying him? Because that would happen when hell froze over.
Joey didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he lifted her skirt higher, the fabric brushing teasingly against her skin. She looked up, and the first evening stars winked back at her. Okay. She wasn’t ready for Joey’s kinky repertoire.
“We’re outside.” Hello, Captain Obvious. She tugged her skirt back down.
Or tried to because, darn it, Joey wasn’t budging. He just threaded his fingers through hers and kept right on lifting. Worse, now he was looking at her and her bare thighs. At least she’d shaved, she reminded herself. And worn her favorite panties, although that wouldn’t hide the ten pounds she’d been meaning to lose.
“Uh-huh. I don’t hear you saying no, and you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen all day.”
“You work with smoke jumpers,” she protested.
“Look at yourself,” he said gently. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
She looked down, following his gaze. He had his fingers tangled with hers in the bunched-up skirt. Anticipation built in her. He was going to touch her now. They both knew she wasn’t going to say no. Her pink panties with the white polka dots and teeny-tiny bows on the side were the white flag of surrender. Or an opening shot over the bow because she definitely liked the way her skin gleamed through the lacy panels on the side, and his hoarse groan said he did too.
She squirmed. God. They were outside. In addition to wildlife and plants, there was no roof. Or walls. Or a door. A passing motorist could discover them. And then she’d really end up as a punch line on YouTube.
“Really? Right here?” Maybe that would hurry him up. Surely no one would drive by for at least another five minutes. She could do this.
“You need to stop worrying.” He brushed his mouth over her forehead. Protesting the order-Mercedes-around part of the agenda seemed prudent but, for all of her protestations that she didn’t do orders, part of her apparently did. The part of her due north of his knuckle. Shoot. She was soaking wet for him.
“Step out of your panties.” He drew a knuckle over her center to make his point and she forced herself not to move. To stay still instead of arching into his touch.
Did she really want to do that? Once she shucked her panties, there was no going back in more ways than one.
He repeated his caress and holding still got harder. “You even know why you came riding with me, honey?”
Not really. She could barely focus on anything but the exquisite pressure of his finger inching slowly toward her sweet spot. Plus, when she did think, she yo-yoed and she hated indecision.
“Do you think it was the sex?” He dragged his thumb back down over the crotch of her panties. He pressed. She moaned, and really, who wanted to talk?
“I don’t know.” She gasped the words out like she’d been running a race, and he rewarded—punished?—her with another long, slow stroke of his hand.
Being in held in place so effortlessly was strangely sexy. She could move left. Right. Either direction worked if she truly wanted to get away from Joey. So, of course, she arched into his touch, her dress crushed between her fingers. It should have been humiliating or awkward being naked and exposed when he was still fully dressed and they were by the side of the road where anyone could spot them, but it wasn’t. It was sexy as hell.
“I’m going to help you list all the reasons,” he growled. He lowered his head, one arm braced over her head and the other working the front of her panties. His mouth stopped inches from hers, almost kissing distance but not quite. Kiss me. When he kissed her, she stopped thinking, and she needed that release.
“Deal.” If he didn’t touch her more, deeper, elsewhere, she’d have to kill him.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t done talking.
“You wanted an adventure,” he said and drew her panties down to her knees. When she shifted, the soft restraint of the cotton around her knees allowed her to mov
e her legs only a handful of inches. What would it be like to really be tied up and at Joey’s mercy? Not going there.
He sank his fingers deep into her, and desire exploded through her. This was why she was here, this chemistry with this man. He set her on fire, made her want more. She didn’t know what that more was, but she wanted to find out, wanted to ride this desire train to the very last stop and see where they ended up.
He stroked, his fingers slick with her juices, and kept right on talking like now was the perfect time for a conversation. “Reason number two: you like going fast, even if you won’t admit. You like riding that edge of danger, the world flashing by.”
She didn’t. She liked things safe. She liked rules.
And yet here she was, riding Joey Carter’s fingers and enjoying it. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected—to enjoy wild, kinky, monkey sex with him or possibly to discover that sex was nice but boring with him, like it had been with every other guy since her high school days, and that would make her realize once and for all that Joey was just a passing fancy and not a man she cared for.
Or possibly loved.
“Mercy?” He growled her name.
Pleasure jolted through her as he twisted his fingers. How the hell was she supposed to talk?
“I’m getting my mouth on you next,” he muttered, the rough warning making her wetter. God, why was he so sexy?
He wasn’t done making her feel good either. His mouth covered hers, and he kissed her crazy, his tongue working its way past her lips, the fingers of his free hand fisting her ponytail. She kissed him back, desperate to get closer. She opened her mouth, trying to kiss him harder. Deeper. However she could. He groaned, pulling her against him and his wicked fingers. Each stroke of his tongue mirrored the slick glide of his rough fingertips lower.
She should stop him. Put the brakes on this and set some ground rules. Instead, she tore her mouth away from his with an embarrassing squeak.
“That’s not nice.”
He shrugged, like he didn’t care. “I’m going to do every dirty thing I’ve fantasized about.”
His mouth swept over her cheek, her neck, found her ear, and she shivered. He pushed his finger in, pulled back. Repeated the caress. It felt so good and all she wanted was more of him. They were outside, and he had her up against a wall and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the heated pleasure building between them. They could sort everything else out later.
“You like that.” He sounded pleased, so she decided not to be embarrassed. And when he repeated the caress, she moaned.
***
“Time out.” He stepped away before she could protest, leaving her with her fingers curled around the edge of the wall. She had no idea how he did this to her, got her all worked up, and hot for him, but she loved it.
Maybe tonight would get him out of her system. Doing it here, however, presented logistical issues. She snuck a peek over the wall, and it was nowhere near high enough for wallbanger sex because the drop hadn’t gotten any less steep or lethal. That would be one hell of a way to go, falling down a mountainside without her panties because Joey Carter had kissed her senseless.
He returned and tossed a blanket down on the ground.
Which was a clue right there about his intentions. “You brought a blanket?”
“Boy Scout. I’m always prepared. Plus the wall is too short.”
They were on the same page there, although apparently for different reasons.
“Uh-huh.” She was pretty sure packing goodies for outdoor sex wasn’t the kind of behavior the Boy Scouts advocated, although he did get a gold star for preparedness. She’d have to think carefully about where to stick said star because, looking at him, she had all sorts of ideas...
He dropped down onto the blanket. She had no idea how he made the position look so effortless and sexy. Maybe it had something to do with the way he stretched his long legs out. And those boots... God, his boots got her going every time. That was her problem right there.
“Having sex outside isn’t—” She chewed on her lower lip.
“Safe? Comfortable? Fun? Because I’m pretty sure that last one is true.” He held out his hand. “Come join me and find out.”
God. There was no denying the answering pulse of excitement between her legs. Joey Carter was so far out of her comfort zone that it wasn’t funny, but she let him pull her down onto the blanket until she sat next to him. Tilting her head back, she rested it against the wall. Stars were painted across the night sky like the diamante in her Quinceañera dress. Except that dress had been pink and white, and as far from sophisticated as it was possible for a dress to be. It had also been fun, and she’d felt like a princess every minute of her fifteenth birthday. The way Joey looked at her now made her feel like a queen.
“Can we get back to the kissing? I promise I’ll make it good.”
She had no doubt of that.
“You’d better not get me arrested for public indecency.”
“Hey, I’m the one who should be worried here.” He rolled over on top of her. “You’re the one who owns a pair of handcuffs.”
She wrapped her hands around his wrists. His big, strong, sexy wrists. She could absolutely think of a thing—or six—she could do with her handcuffs.
She tried one last time. “We should go back to my place.”
“What’s wrong with right here? I’ll even let you be on top.” He suited his actions to his words and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Her legs hugged his hips and right beneath her—well, yeah. Joey Carter wasn’t going to be a disappointment at all.
“See?” He laughed up at her, grasping her hips lightly with his fingers.
“I’m not getting naked outside.”
“Not even a little?” He flashed her a wicked grin as he tugged her skirt up. She didn’t have any panties on. “You don’t have to take all your clothes off, although I’m definitely not stopping you.”
The sun had gone down and it was February. She’d get frostbite on her best parts and, damn it, she already felt the draft on her butt. “Joey—”
“That’s my name.” He arched up against her against, his erection pressing against her in a way that was part tease, part sexy promise. Oh. Okay. Frostbite wasn’t a concern, because she was on fire. “Feel free to use it paired with Joey, more and Joey, yes please.”
God. He was cute. “I could do this much better in a bed. You’d have a better time.”
“Hey,” he said gently. “You let me worry about me. If you enjoy yourself, I’m good. You’re gorgeous, and I’ve been fantasizing about tonight for a long time. All I want from you is a yes. And then, if I’m doing it right, a more and maybe a how soon can we do it again?”
“Okay,” she said because he had that effect on her.
“I’ll make it good for you,” he promised, and Joey had always been a man of his word. He reached between them, popping the buttons on his jeans. She’d always thought there was nothing sexier than a pair of button-fly jeans on a guy. Her guy. And didn’t that possessive thought have her frowning?
The small noise from somewhere out there in the dark had her freezing. Not a car. No headlights flashed over the trees. The noise’s cause could have been something four-legged standing on a stick. Or something falling off a tree. Damn it. She was a city girl. Who knew what kind of people-eating wildlife roamed these mountains after dark?
She dug her fingers into Joey’s shoulders. “Did you hear that?”
He looked up at her, his eyes dark with passion, and then he pushed carefully up against her, the slick, hard stroke of his penis through her folds the best kind of answer. Oh.
“Bear. Racoon. Peeping Tom. Do you really care?” He repeated the caress. “Because, sweetheart, I’m going to be totally honest here. The only thing I care about right now is you.”
He added his fingers there, where he was rubbing against her, and God, he was perfect. She moved her hips, gliding down to meet him when he rose up. Heated sensatio
n streaked through her.
“What if it was the start of the zombie apocalypse? And there was a horde of man-eating zombies coming up the mountainside, gunning for us?”
“They’d get one hell of a show,” he muttered. “If I ask nicely, will you shut up now?”
“Why? Do you need to concentrate?” She grinned down at him, and wiggled. Just a little, and just to show him who was in charge here.
He groaned. “Yeah. Concentrating would be a good thing.”
His fingers teased, finding her clit and starting a rhythm that made her want to beg him to go faster. Harder. Or to slow way, way down so the sensations could last all night. And that was her last coherent thought for a long time as she rode his fingers, rode him, taking them both closer and closer to the edge.
At some point, he’d gotten the condom on, and each downward glide she made pushed the tip of him deeper inside her. He was hard and hot, and every inch as ready for her, for this, as she was.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she whispered, teasing him like he’d teased her, rising up on her knees until she held just the tip of him inside her. His rough groan was the perfect revenge.
“I’m always up for a challenge.” His smile was so goddamned beautiful. She could have looked at him for hours and hours, but he grasped her hips in his hands, moved deep inside her, and she lost her breath at the rough, delicious rhythm. Lost herself in him, burying her face against his throat when, long minutes later, he pulled her to him hard, and she fell over the edge with him.
Body trembling, thighs aching in the best possible way, she sprawled on his chest, listening to his heart banging a primal answer to the desperate beat of her own. God, he’d about killed her.
“Sweetheart?” He ran his hands down her back, cupping her butt through her skirt.
“Hmmm.” She hoped he didn’t want to talk now.
“If you did that any better, I’d be dead.”
He sounded damn happy about it.
8
Joey made her knees wobbly. Along with other parts. In fact, almost all of Mercy—including her brain and most likely her heart—was a big, melted pile of goo. It wasn’t an attractive image, but Joey undid her.
