by Maisey Yates
Violet lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. Good night.”
They stepped outside onto the porch and paused for a second. “Thank you,” he said. “For helping her with the cake. Which was my official statement to you as a father. And now I’m about to make an official statement to you as a man. Let’s go park.”
Alison laughed, then pressed her hand up against her lips. “You want to park?”
“I bought myself a little bit of time by saying I was going to go outside and work. And Violet expects that you’re leaving. So, I figure I can get in the car with you, and we can drive partway down the driveway and pull off the road.”
“Get in my car, then.”
He looked back over his shoulder, just to make sure nobody was watching out the window or anything. And then he headed toward Alison’s car with her. He got into the passenger seat and didn’t bother to buckle. She climbed in and started the engine.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, looking at him, her smile saying that even if she thought so, she was enjoying the ridiculousness.
“Yeah,” he said. “It kind of is.”
His life had been heavy on unenjoyable ridiculousness for a little bit too long, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun. Couldn’t remember the last time he had sneaked around with somebody. More than seventeen years ago, that was for sure.
“I’m not complaining,” she said, putting her car in Reverse. “Down the driveway?”
“I’m definitely not complaining. And yes.”
She headed down the long, winding dirt driveway, and when they came to a small turnout he directed her to pull off.
“You might want to kill the lights,” he said, looking over at her.
She complied, plunging them into darkness. There were lights left on the dashboard, little orange glows accentuating the darkness, giving him just the barest hint of an outline for Alison’s face. He leaned across the space between them, cupping her cheek and kissing her, deep and long. He didn’t see the point in going slow. The entire evening had been a study in torture. In going a hell of a lot slower than he wanted to.
She tasted sweet, like she had been sampling some of the sugar she had been baking with earlier. He wanted to lick it all off her. Mostly, he wanted to lick her.
“Back seat,” he growled against her mouth.
“You mean you don’t just want to kiss?” she asked, her tone far too innocent to be genuine.
“You should know better than to go parking with men like me.”
“You seemed so nice back there when I was baking the cake.”
“That’s how we get you.”
She unbuckled, and he opened his door, getting out and then getting into the back seat. She got in at the same time he did. He growled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing her down into the seat as he kissed her with every ounce of pent-up hunger that had been building inside him since she had walked into his house tonight.
The car wasn’t big enough for him to stretch out all the way, but he settled between her thighs anyway, wrapping her legs around his hips as he continued to kiss her.
“That was torture,” he said, sliding to her neck, licking a trail down to her collarbone. “Looking at you and having to keep my hands to myself.”
She pressed her palms against his chest, dragging them down to his stomach. “You think it was easy for me? When all I wanted to do was touch you, everywhere.”
“Where do you want to touch me? Show me.”
She slid one hand down to cup his hardening cock. Then she squeezed him tightly, running her fingertips along the length of him through his jeans. He loved this. Loved that she wasn’t shy about what she wanted.
He pushed his hand underneath her shirt, unhooked her bra and then pulled her T-shirt up before flinging the undergarment into the front seat. “Finally,” he said, lowering his head and drawing one nipple into his mouth. She really did have the most amazing breasts, and he didn’t think it was only because it had been so long since he’d touched a woman.
“They’re smaller than they look. Because of the bra.”
“Like I care,” he said, nuzzling her other breast before lapping it with the flat of his tongue. “Doesn’t matter how big they are. All that matters to me is how much you like it when I do this.” He sucked her into his mouth again.
She gasped, arching her back up into him, encouraging him to go harder. And he obliged.
“I do like that,” she said, her tone breathless, her fingers laced through his hair, tugging slightly.
“Good.” He moved his hand down her stomach, reveling in the soft feel of her skin beneath his hands. His own skin was calloused, but she didn’t seem to mind. He undid the button on her jeans, then slowly lowered the zipper before pushing his hand down beneath the waistband of her panties and stroking the glorious, wet flesh he found there.
She flexed her hips upward, arching into his hand, her excitement and anticipation sending a shock of arousal straight down to his cock.
She gripped his shoulders, rolling her pelvis in time with his movements, chasing that release of hers that he could tell she was right on the verge of. Already. And he had barely touched her.
He pressed a finger inside of her, sliding his thumb over her clit, relishing that harsh gasp of breath on her lips and the intense pulse of her internal muscles as she climaxed. She grabbed hold of his wrist, holding his hand still, but pressing his palm down hard against that sensitive bundle of nerves as she rode out the orgasm.
She shuddered, her entire body shaking as the harder pulses calmed down to steady waves. He eased himself away from her, so hard now he was sure he was going to pop his zipper open.
She let out a long, slow breath. Then pushed herself up so that she was sitting. He couldn’t see her expression, and for a moment, he was afraid that she was going to get out of the car and say that she needed to head home. That she was good now that she had gotten hers.
Instead, she placed her fingertips against his shoulder and shoved him back. Not hard enough to actually move him. He doubted she could do much of anything to move him, but he didn’t see any point in fighting against her. In fact, he wanted to see what she would do next.
He wasn’t disappointed. She reached out, undoing his belt, then the closure on his pants, drawing them down as much as she could in the cramped back seat. She curled her fingers around his thick length, squeezing him. He groaned, relishing the soft feel of her delicate fingertips against him.
The only thing that would make it better would be if he could see her. If he could watch her touching him like that. Those slender fingers on the most masculine part of him.
But then he couldn’t think. Then she leaned forward, her hot, slick tongue darting out and sliding over the head of his cock. He could barely make out the shape of her in the darkness, the pale, elegant curve of her spine arching as she took more of him into her mouth.
And he was lost. Lost in the dark, heady pleasure and the hedonistic rhythm that she established using her lips and tongue and hands. His damn head was about to explode.
His sweet little baker knew how to handle a man, that was for sure. And he was grateful.
He placed his hand between her shoulder blades, slid it down along her back, beneath the waistband of her pants so that he could get a handful of her ass. He squeezed her tight, then moved his hand over that smooth skin.
She made a low, throaty sound as she opened wider to take him in deeper, her hands sliding down between his thighs as she continued to tease him.
She did something particularly good with her tongue and he bucked his hips lightly, grabbing hold of her hair to try and steady them both so he didn’t lose it completely.
“Careful, darlin’,” he said. “I don’t have a handle on all my control right now.”
She
didn’t say anything; instead, she squeezed the base of his dick, then tilted her head, licking his length like a lollipop.
He reached down, gripped her chin and stopped her movements, tilting her face upward. “Baby,” he said, “I want to be inside of you when I come.”
She touched the tip of her tongue to his thumb, and he rested it down against her bottom lip. She bit him, then sucked his thumb into her mouth. If he didn’t feel the slight tremble in her lips he would have been tempted to believe that she was in total control here. But she was just as turned on as he was. Just as close to the edge.
He lifted his hips, reaching into his back pocket and taking out his wallet. Then he took out the condom packet he had placed in there earlier. Because he actually had a reason to carry around a condom again. Another thing that was part of a bygone era. Or had been. Until Alison.
“You do it,” he said, handing the packet to her.
She sat up, tearing open the condom before discarding the wrapper, rolling the latex onto him, her grip firm. His breath hissed through his teeth as she rolled it down over him slowly, taking her time as she smoothed it over each inch.
She pushed her hands beneath his T-shirt, pulling it up over his head, then planted her hands on his bare chest, urging him to lean back against the car door. Then, she shifted, climbing onto his lap. He reached out, pushing her jeans farther down her legs, and she did her best to kick them off, taking her underwear with them. Then she straddled him, positioning herself on the head of his cock.
She gripped his shoulders, lowering herself slowly onto him. He planted one hand on her hip, the other on her ass as he guided her down completely, until she had all of him inside of her.
She froze for a moment, then leaned in, pressing her forehead against his. She breathed out, a jagged, shaking sound that touched him down deep, not just physically, but somewhere else.
He lifted his hand, grabbing hold of her hair, pushing his fingers deep inside of it as he drew her head closer, kissing her fiercely before thrusting upward. She gasped then, and came alive.
She began to move over him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as she rode him. As she drove them both closer to the point of ecstasy. Drove them both crazy. He tightened his hold on her rear, blunt fingertips digging into that pliant flesh, but if it hurt, she didn’t seem to care. If it hurt, she seemed to like it.
That worked for him, since he couldn’t tell if he was in agony or ecstasy as all that slick heat fisted around his body, driving him to the brink. Tormenting him as much as pleasuring him.
There was no sound except for their harsh breathing, the sound of skin on skin as her movements intensified, as they both started to shake, started to lose control. He needed her to go over. Now. Because he didn’t have any ability left to resist. Because he needed to come more than he needed air. He reached between them, pressing his thumb right against her clit, then drawing it back to where their bodies met, then forward again.
She curled her fingers into his shoulders, her nails digging deep into his skin as she buried her face in the side of his neck, the moan of pleasure on her lips sounding as though it had been dragged out from deep inside of her. Then, he felt her break, internal muscles squeezing him as her climax hit hard. And he followed, not bothering to hold on any longer.
This was what he wanted. For the two of them to lose it together.
He gripped her hips, holding on to her tightly as he thrust into her hard, once, then twice, freezing as the wave overtook him too. He gritted his teeth, white lights flashing behind his eyes, the orgasm so intense he couldn’t even breathe through it.
He wrapped his arms around her, desperate to feel every inch of bare skin he could against his. To feel those small, perfect breasts pressed tightly against his chest. She was breathing hard, her face still pressed against his neck, her entire body gone pliant in the aftermath of her release.
He wanted to stay like this the entire night. But, as sanity returned, he became aware that he was pressed up against the window, the door handle and armrest digging into his lower back, and that if he stayed like this much longer he was going to feel it for the next three days.
“I suppose I’d better let you go,” he said, his arms still wrapped around her. He tilted her face up and lowered his head, kissing her, slowly, leisurely. Taking his time tasting every inch of her mouth.
She shivered. “Well, now I don’t really want to go.”
“I’m going to have to get back. And you have a big cake to bake tomorrow. And then you have to wrangle my teenager.”
She laughed unsteadily, pushing away from him and digging for her clothes. “True.”
He opened the car door and stepped outside, pulling his pants into place and taking the condom off as he did. He looked around, not really sure what he was going to do with the protection.
Then Alison’s hand was sticking out of the car door, a paper coffee cup in it. “This is empty, put it in here. I’ll throw it away on my way in.”
He took the cup from her, sticking the offending item inside and then putting the lid back on. “This is why adults don’t do this,” he said. “Unless they have to, I guess.”
“It’s kind of fun. I haven’t done anything like this for a long time.”
His stomach tightened, the moonlight catching her face, casting all that beauty in an otherworldly glow. “I’m not sure I’ve ever really done anything like this,” he said, before he could modify the words.
“Well,” she said, also getting out of the car, then trying to step into her jeans. “I can honestly say I’ve never done anything like this and had it feel this good.” She braced herself, planting her hand on his chest as she wiggled into her pants. “Believe me when I tell you you were much, much better than the pimple-faced sixteen-year-old boys I used to take out to the woods back when I was in high school.”
He laughed. “I take that as high praise.”
“You should. You’re the best I’ve ever had by a mile. In car, or in bed.”
“You don’t have to say that, I feel good enough that I don’t need the extra ego boost.”
“It’s true. If my—if the last person I was with was better, I probably wouldn’t have waited so long to jump back into the game.”
He was curious, he couldn’t help it. Even though he shouldn’t be curious. And he absolutely shouldn’t wonder about her past. Because that wasn’t the point of this. They were all about the present. At least, they were supposed to be.
“Who was he?”
She was battling to get through her T-shirt in the dark. “Who?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“The last guy.”
She pushed her head through the neckhole of the shirt, smoothing it down over her body. “Not really important.”
“You say that. Which makes me think it is.”
“Just... My ex.”
“Ex-boyfriend?”
“Ex-husband.”
The admission hung in the air between them, as thick as the mist that was starting to descend, lower and lower as the hour grew later. “I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. I know. It’s fine.” She took a deep breath. “It’s better. This way. The divorce.”
Divorce sucked, and it was complicated, and he knew better than anybody that being happy about it in some ways didn’t mean you weren’t hurt by it in others. “Divorce is hell,” he said. “Kind of no matter what. At least the road that you had to be on to get there.”
“I’m over it,” she said. “It’s been four years.”
“For me too. I’m not sure I’m over it, though. I mean, I’m over her. But not necessarily everything I went through. Not necessarily all of the fallout that was left.”
“It’s different for you. Because of Violet. Because you’ll always be connected to her through Violet. We didn’t ha
ve any kids. I’m glad. Because when I cut ties with him, it was clean. No reason to ever go back. No connection remaining. Honestly, for me, divorce was only good.”
“You weren’t happy?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t even remember being happy anymore. But. It’s done. I don’t think about it anymore, and I don’t want you to think about it.” Except she was lying, and he could tell. She absolutely did think about it, whatever she wanted him to believe.
Still, there was no point in pushing it. He never should have asked the question in the first place. Personal details were immaterial when it came to the two of them. Because all they were doing was having sex. That was it. Beginning and end of story.
“Suit yourself.”
He turned and started to walk away. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going to walk back up to the house. You can’t drive me. Then they’ll hear the car engine and get suspicious. I’m just going to make it seem like I’m walking back down from working on the barn.”
“Okay,” she said, closing the passenger side door and walking around the back of the car to the other side. “I’ll see you. Maybe after I drop Violet off tomorrow night.”
“Sure.”
He wanted to grab her and kiss her one more time. But, because he wanted to, he didn’t. He needed to start fighting some of his urges around her, or things were going to get tangled up quickly. He was already giving in to his curiosity where she was concerned, and that had to stop.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the clean scent of the night air as he started to wander up the driveway again. But then he stopped. Waited until she got her car started. Until she got it into gear and began driving down the road again.
He had to make sure she was all right. That was just gentlemanly.
He watched until her taillights disappeared, another thing he told himself was just being a gentleman. And he certainly wasn’t regretting that he wasn’t with her. That he couldn’t go back home with her. Get into bed with her and hold her all night. He’d had sex with her twice, but he’d never had the luxury of having her in bed. With all that soft space and hours between sunset and morning for them to explore each other.
