Fuck, I had just had the most amazing make-out session in my life and ruined it.
Jensen nipped my lower lip, basically deciding for me. I leaned into his kiss again with a low moan.
Forget common decency. I just wanted Jensen Wright. Right here. Right now.
Then, I heard the sound of a door crashing open. I reared back and found an old woman rushing out of the front door in her nightgown. She had to be in her eighties with her white hair in curlers. She was shaking her fist at the truck as she wandered out into the frigid night.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” My eyes widened in horror.
No sweet talk from Jensen was going to change my mind this time. There was an old woman shaking her fist at us. Comically, I suddenly felt like I was in an old movie, and I was dying of humiliation.
I scrambled off of Jensen’s lap and landed with a thud back into the passenger seat. I frantically waved my arms at Jensen. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
He laughed at me. There wasn’t an ounce of shame on his face.
“Jensen,” I spat like a curse, “get your cute ass moving.”
“All right, all right,” he said with a grin. He languidly adjusted his pants, which was a nice distraction from the woman approaching us from her front porch. “So long as you think my ass is cute.”
I buried my face in my hands. Not only had we been caught making out by a woman, but I had also just admitted to checking out Jensen’s ass. I was out of my damn mind. That had to be the only explanation.
Jensen put the truck into drive and pulled away without another word. He seemed to find the whole thing amusing. I thought he might have even found my own humiliation funnier than the woman rushing out at us. Just my luck.
“I cannot believe that just happened.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” he said, slipping his hand across the seat and taking mine.
I let out a groan. “What is your definition of wasn’t that bad?”
“You don’t know that woman, and you’ll never have to see her again.”
“Not with my luck!”
Jensen reassuringly trailed his thumb down my knuckles. “Emery, look at me.”
My gaze shifted to his from where I was bent over. “What?”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was sexy as hell.”
“Getting caught?” I asked.
He tilted his head and arched an eyebrow. “The way you rode me,” he said in a husky deep voice.
I blushed at his words, but that got me to sit up. I shouldn’t be so embarrassed. We weren’t kids anymore. I was an adult…sort of. I wasn’t that great at adulting. I didn’t even really know what was considered adulting. But, if it involved riding Jensen like a bucking bronco, then I’d be on board with trying to be more of an adult.
“You liked that?” I asked, finally finding my voice.
“I’d like to do more than let you ride me in my truck,” he admitted.
He took a left and then headed back up the canyon. His eyes slid to mine in the darkness, and the intensity of them shot heat straight between my thighs. I squeezed them together in anticipation.
“I’d love to get you to make those moaning noises all night.”
I choked on my own saliva at those words. My mouth dropped open.
“I wouldn’t mind this either,” he said, untwining our hands to rub his thumb across my bottom lip.
“Oh, dear God,” I whispered.
My tongue darted out and caressed his thumb, and we both shivered.
“Is that what you want?”
“For you to fuck me?” I countered.
He grinned, dimpling his cheeks and sending me swooning all over again. “I’d like nothing more than to fuck you, Emery.”
My head nodded in agreement, as if without my body even realizing it. Because, hell yes, I wanted to get fucked by Jensen Wright.
Normally, I wouldn’t talk about sex like that. It was Heidi who had messaged me at Torchy’s to ask if we were fucking already. I hadn’t thought for a split second that it was even a possibility that we were going to get hot and heavy. I had thought that maybe he’d kiss me on my doorstep when he dropped me off.
I wasn’t naive. I’d gone through my one-night-stand phase in college. I’d meaninglessly dated a guy in college who I fucked every day until I realized I hated that he smoked. I’d dated my own PhD advisor for going on three years. We never commented on our sex life. We’d had long debates about seventeenth century monarchs, drunk French wine over philosophical commentaries, and made love in the dark under the covers on days when he didn’t have to teach in the morning. But none of those relationships or pseudo relationships had ever had a guy who wanted to talk about what he wanted to do to me. To count the ways that he wanted to fuck me and then follow through.
Jensen Wright wanted to fuck me.
He wanted to use my mouth and body all night.
And I was perfectly fine with letting him.
A couple of minutes later, we pulled up to a one-story cabin overlooking the canyon and the flat lake in the middle. It wasn’t as enormous as some of the ones inside the canyon walls, but it held its own. At least what I could see of it.
“Whose house is this?” I asked as Jensen pulled into the driveway.
He cut the engine, and he looked over at me, almost apologetically. “Mine.”
“Oh,” I said as realization dawned on me.
He had planned this. That much was clear. He had wanted to bring me back here for sex the whole time. Part of me wanted to be flattered, but I suddenly had a bad taste in my mouth, and I felt frozen in my seat.
“I originally planned to bring you here,” he said. At my appalled face, he shook his head. “Not like that. I planned to use the fire pit and make s’mores. I have the supplies in the back. I figured it’d be about fifty degrees, and if the weather permitted, we could night hike. Hence the warm clothes…” He trailed off when I didn’t move.