"Stare all you want," he said softly. "I'm hard for you. I saw you dancing, Hannah. At the bar. When will you dance for me? When will you put on a show for me?"
I hung my head and exhaled. My long curls spilled over the seat.
"I want you," I breathed.
He slid my tiny shorts down my ass and left them around my thighs. I heard him inhale sharply. Of course, I was still wearing the thong.
"Oh, you're bad, you're wicked," he groaned, spreading my cheeks and massaging my ass. "God, you're perfect. Look at you."
I parted my knees farther and was satisfied to hear the gesture drag another groan out of Matt. He was crumbling.
He pressed a finger to my sex, digging the satin thong into it and making me roll my hips back helplessly.
"Fuck, Hannah, fuck."
Note to self: wear thong, render Matt speechless.
He began fumbling for something in his pocket. A condom, I realized.
"No, I—" I stammered. "I have an IUD, I..."
I wanted it skin to skin. I wanted Matt to give it to me, now, hard. I wanted to be able to say these things, but all I could do was struggle not to drool.
Matt's eyes flickered to mine. In one motion, he pulled down my thong and climbed over me. My only warning that he was about to enter me came when I felt his plump head against my lips, his hand hastily positioning it.
"Ah, god!" I cried out as he slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt. I was so tight around him, or he was so big, or both—I felt like he might split me apart.
Matt gave a jagged moan as he entered me.
"Hannah! Ah fuck, Hannah."
My name fell from his lips endlessly, mixed with strings of expletives. He planted a hand against the seat and held one of my breasts as he fucked me. Every time he slid into me, his fingers squeezed at my breast.
He talked dirty the whole time. Each stroke of his cock drove me higher. He told me I was wet and tight for him. He told me it almost hurt. He told me I needed a good long fucking and that I was his—his slut, his baby, that I made him so hard, that he was going to fuck me again and again and again.
I wanted to meet Matt's thrusts, but our close quarters and the pressure of his hips kept me jammed against the console. My clit pressed into the blunt edge of it.
I started to writhe—back onto Matt's cock, down against the console.
"Oh, god, Matt, I..."
Later there would be time to feel mortified about humping a piece of Matt's one hundred thousand dollar car.
At the moment, Matt wasn't in much better shape.
"I need to come," he moaned. "Baby I need to come."
"Do it," I panted. His simple admission sent me over the edge. My body squeezed and soaked his sex. He shuddered against me, crawling close to come deep inside.
Reality floated away.
Sweat dripped from my chin to the seat.
When the pleasure released me, I sagged against the console and lay there gathering my breath. Matt's strong hands dragged me onto his lap.
His arms enfolded me. I nuzzled into him, heedless of my tangled clothes.
"Little bird." He kissed the top of my head. "My little bird."
My motor skills had finally returned, though my powers of speech were still at large. I brushed my fingers over his chest and kissed his neck. I breathed in the clean scent of him.
Little bird, he called me. His little bird. And somehow, it made me feel like the most precious thing in the world.
CHAPTER 9
Matt
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HANNAH TUGGED AT her shorts as we waited for the AC to clear the fogged windows.
My bravado aside, I hoped to hell that none of Hannah's neighbors saw our performance. We could be hauled off for indecent exposure. How awkward. And more: the thought of another man actually seeing Hannah's body made my blood boil.
I don't share well.
I just loved humiliating Hannah. I loved the way she squirmed when I exposed her.
"I hate to tell you this," I said, glancing over as she picked at her boxers, "but no possible arrangement of those shorts will bring them into the realm of modesty. Give up."