Leaning away to catch my eye, he asked, “You want me to stop?”
“No,” I told him unconvincingly. What I really wanted was to go home, read a bunch of books, maybe look up some porn, and figure out exactly how to do this. Then I’d transport myself right back to that exact moment, owning all the confidence I was attempting to fake.
“Ash,” he drawled in warning. “We can stop.”
“Can we . . . just, maybe . . . kiss some more?”
One side of his mouth hiked in a grin. “Absolutely.”
He grabbed the back of my head and reclined. My breasts pressed against his chest as he closed his mouth over mine. His soft tongue once again made its way into my mouth and rolled in a way that demanded mine to join it. He swallowed my sigh as my hips involuntarily rolled against his hard-on.
With one hand still on the back of my head, his other trailed down my back and over my ass, forcing me to groan all over again.
“Yessss!” was slurred from outside the van.
I sat up at the shock of being caught, completely forgetting that I wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“And she’s naked!” Quarry exclaimed as we made eye contact.
Well, I made eye contact—he made nipple contact.
“Oh Christ,” Max cursed, dragging Q away from the window as Flint wrapped me in his arms to block the view.
“For fuck’s sake, cover up!” Flint bit out, searching with his hand around the floor of the van to locate my shirt. “Put this on,” he ordered when he finally found it.
While I pulled my shirt on, not even bothering with the bra, I tried to suppress my laughter at the whole situation. Flint didn’t look like he was in the mood for it. However, it bubbled out before I could stop it.
He gave me an unimpressed glare. “I’m glad you find this funny, because Q’s gonna be dreaming about you naked for the next six months.”
I grabbed my chest over my heart, feigning injury. “Only six?”
“You’re insane,” he mumbled as he shook his head, but he did it smiling.
Just before I climbed off his lap, I kissed him. “You know, I’m more concerned with what you’ll be dreaming about.” I tossed him a flirty wink.
However, never one to be outdone, Flint one-upped me. “Oh, that’s easy. Tomorrow night.” He confidently returned my wink.
His was better.
Damn cheater!
Me: Coffee or soda?
Flint: It’s seven in the morning.
Me: Uh, yeah. Hence the question.
Flint: Who drinks soda at seven am?
Me: Me. Caffeine is caffeine. Now answer the question. I’m on the way over to your place.
Flint: Right now? It’s seven am.
Me: We’ve established the time already. Coffee or soda?
Flint: Coffee.
Me: I knew it! I’m totally clairvoyant. Open your door. I’m here.
Flint: Already?
Me: Yeah, I was already at your door when I worried you’d want soda. I like you and all but I wasn’t willing to share mine.
A minute later, the door swung open to Flint staring up at me, shirtless in a pair of athletic shorts. I sucked in a fast breath as I openly gawked at him. His chest was thin but clearly defined, and a small amount of hair was dusted over it.
“Jesus, it’s early, Ash.”
“Well, good morning to you too.” I extended the coffee toward him.
Using one hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight blazing into his dark apartment, he took the drink without so much as a thank-you. “What are you doing here?”
Hmm. Not exactly the welcome I was hoping for, but Flint was never easy.
Turning sideways, I squeezed past him.
“Well, by all means, come on in,” he snapped.
Okay, maybe showing up uninvited wasn’t the best idea.
When Flint had dropped me off the night before, he’d given me a toe-curling goodbye kiss that had me wishing I hadn’t chickened out in the back of his van. It had also left me thinking about him pretty much nonstop for the rest of the night. Sleep had proved to be impossible. Each time I would start to doze off, a memory of our night together would flash through my mind, forcing a smile to my face. My cheeks had ached by the time the first ray of sunlight had peeked through my bedroom window, which, coincidently, was the same time I’d raced to my dad’s car and headed back to Flint’s apartment.
It had taken every ounce of self-restraint I possessed, but I’d made it to seven A.M. before giving in and texting him. I didn’t want to look desperate or anything. Clearly, seven A.M. was the hour of cool and collected girls everywhere. Well, at least it was a hell of a lot better than five thirty, when I’d bought his coffee from the gas station.
“Cold coffee. Delicious,” he snarked. “Jesus, did you get this last night?” He curled his lips in disgust.
Not quite. “I woke up early and decided to stop by and see if you wanted to go garage-saling with me.”