Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“I would love that.” I adjust my purse strap and my grip on my own takeout box.
“And I’d love to take you out for dinner again, if you’re interested.”
“I’m definitely interested.”
“Great.” His mouth dips to mine and he moves closer. “I’d also love to kiss you goodnight.”
“I’m right there with you.”
His fingertips drift along the edge of my jaw and then slide into the hair at the nape of my neck. We angle our heads at the same time and our lips connect. I make a soft, needy sound and he groans as our tongues tangle.
I slide my hand up his chest and curve my palm around the back of his neck and find myself pressed against the side of my car. Like the first time we kissed, I’m still holding onto my takeout box, which means I’m limited to single-hand touching. As if he’s reading my mind, Sidney’s fingers slide down my arm and he takes the box. He must move it to the hood because a second later, his hand settles on my waist, and I have the freedom to touch him with both hands.
So, I do.
And we keep kissing, lips fused, tongues sweeping out to taste each other, lower halves pressed tight. I feel him hard against my stomach. His free hand travels up my side and his thumb rests just under the swell of my breast. I jut my chest out, but we’re standing in the middle of a parking lot, so there’s not much we can do apart from kiss and make small, desperate noises.
I run my hand down his back and give his ass a squeeze. It’s deliciously firm. He grunts and his hand covers my breast.
The thumping bass of a passing car reminds us we’re making out in public again.
I break the kiss long enough to ask, “Is your son home?”
Sidney checks his watch. “He’ll be home in less than half an hour. What about your daughter?”
“She is.” I glance at his truck. It’s one of those nice extended cabs, with a full backseat and tinted windows. The parking lot is quiet, it being a Wednesday at nine-thirty. His son has away games for the next two weekends, and both of our schedules are ridiculously busy. This might be our only chance to get frisky for a while and I’d love to get past first freaking base.
“Wanna make out in the backseat of your truck?” I blurt.
Sidney’s brow arches and his gaze moves over my face, as if he’s trying to gauge my sincerity. “Yes?”
“Awesome. Me, too.” I glance around the parking lot to ensure there are no witnesses. “Let’s do it.”
Sidney unlocks his truck and holds the door open for me. I climb in and he follows me. I’m right about the spaciousness. The backseat is huge. Three full-grown adults could comfortably sit back here and have leg room. Or two horny parents with teens who make it impossible to get some alone time.
Once the door closes and the interior lights dim, I pull his mouth back to mine. I shift to straddle his lap and shrug out of my coat. Sidney does the same and I slip my hand under his shirt. He’s in excellent shape, muscles still defined, likely from practicing with his son.
“Can I touch more of you?” he groans into my mouth.
“That would be amazing,” I say breathlessly.
His wide, warm palm slides under my shirt, skimming my side as he makes his way up to my chest. He cups my right breast, his thumb brushing over the bra covered nipple. I moan.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man’s hands on me, and probably close to two decades since I’ve made out in the backseat of a vehicle. And back then it was a tiny two door hatchback where even someone as short as me would eat my knees.
Sidney pulls the cup of my bra down to expose my nipple. I arch into the touch as he pushes my shirt up and leans in, covering the tight peak with his mouth. He laves me with his tongue and applies the perfect amount of suction. I slide my hands into his hair and grip the thick strands on a low moan.
One second, I’m straddling his lap and the next I find myself stretched out on the spacious bench seat, my breasts the happy recipient of Sidney’s attention.
“You have the most amazing tits,” he groans against my skin.
“A good bra is everything.”
“You’re giving your bra way too much credit.” He pushes them together and alternates, sucking one nipple and then the other.
I’m desperate for a little friction, and a lot less clothing in the way. I run my hands down his back and find the hem of his shirt. I tug it up, and Sidney takes the hint and loses it. I hook a leg over his hip and pull him down on top of me. We both sigh in relief when our lower halves connect. I roll my hips and so does he.