“I hate this,” I confess in a whisper that sounds as defeated as I feel.
“It’s not a big deal. We don’t need to do anything.”
I pull away and stare hard at him. “Doesn’t this even matter to you? Don’t you even care?”
“Of course I care—”
“Then say ‘I hate this too, Dee.’ Tell me how much this fucking sucks because you want to be inside me right now. Tell me how we can fix it. Don’t just tell me it’s not a big deal. Because it’s a huge fucking deal, Joel.”
His eyes slowly darken, his voice firm when he says, “Stand up.”
“Huh?”
“Stand. Up.”
I slide off his lap, and his big hands capture the sides of my legs, holding me in front of him. He stares up at me and says, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
It sounds like a warning, but whatever he’s planning on doing—with his hands on my legs and him looking at me like that—yeah, I want him to do it. “Yes.”
“Then take off your shorts.”
When I hesitate, he commands me with one word. “Now.”
My fingers undo the button of my shorts, and Joel releases my legs and sits back.
“Take them off. Then your shirt.”
A shiver dances up my spine, and I slowly pull them down. I step out of them and pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side. My bra, already unclasped from our wanton walk to the bus, slips over my arms and falls to my feet, and I kick it to the side.
Joel’s eyes never leave mine as his hands slide behind my thighs and his face draws closer to my stomach. His lips connect with a sensitive spot next to my navel, and he stares up at me as he licks the salt from my skin.
My eyes flutter closed, and his strong hands slide up the backs of my thighs to squeeze my ass in his palms. My fingers clutch his warm shoulders, tightening when his wet lips trace soft kisses along my panty line. The way he kisses me is sensual. Dizzying. A finger hooks into my silky waistband and tugs it down over the hollow of my pelvis. His lips connect a second later, devouring the sensitized dip in my body that drives me crazy with want.
“Joel,” I pant, and he stops kissing me.
When he stands up, my eyes open, and he kisses me fiercely, breaking away only long enough to order me to take my panties off. As I wiggle out of them, he kicks out of his shorts and boxers, and then he stretches out on the bench and pulls me on top of him, lacing his fingers with mine and using them to pin his own hands next to his head.
I know what he’s doing. He’s giving me control, relinquishing all the power. And it’s working, because I drop my lips to his and kiss him ravenously. Throbs from between my legs beg to be touched and soothed, and I pull away from his mouth, parting my lips to say something. Before I can, his mouth presses against my throat and my words get lost behind the bottom lip I have to bite between my teeth.
“Do you have a condom?” I breathlessly ask as he licks, kisses, and nibbles.
Joel’s response is low and sexy, breathed against the wetness he leaves on my skin. “Upstairs.”
Upstairs seems so far away. Too far away. His hands are still pinned to the bench seat, and he’s naked beneath me. All I want is to have him. To keep him.
“I’m on birth control,” I offer. He already knows that, but right now, I’m suggesting it as a solution instead of a backup plan.
He parts his lips from my collarbone and stares up into my eyes, answering my unspoken question with a single word. “Okay.”
With one of my hands still pinning his next to his head, I slide the other between us and wrap my fingers around him, positioning his tip firmly against me. Joel’s free hand threads into my hair, and he pulls me to his lips as I lower myself onto him. I moan against his mouth, and our clasped fingers squeeze tight together.
When he’s all the way inside me, I catch my breath, throbbing all around him.
“God, that feels so fucking good,” he says, his eyes closed and his lips parted like all of his concentration is devoted to feeling me pulse around him.
I remove his hand from my hair and pin it back against the leather, using my weight as leverage as I lift myself off of him and lower myself back down.
Joel moans, and I chew on my lip to keep from moaning even louder. Without the condom, he feels warm and hard and so, so smooth. I’ve never had sex without one before, and I always assumed guys were lying when they said it felt so much better.
“Dee,” Joel says, and I kiss my name from his lips, building a slow and steady rhythm. He kisses me back until my entire body is on fire, and then he breaks his lips from mine. My tongue curls behind his earlobe, and I nip at the soft, flushed skin. The way his fingers tighten around mine encourages me, so I’m nibbling at his neck when he pants, “You’re going to need to slow down if you want me to last.”
“That’s not what I want,” I purr against his neck.
“What do you want?”