Page 173 of Ransom

I blush, squirming under his intense gaze. I've never been good at taking compliments. I know he means it; I can see it in his eyes. "My boobs are starting to sag," I say, reaching up to push his shirt off his shoulders.

He chuckles, helping me remove the shirt. "I have five grey chest hairs. And I have to hold paperwork at arm's length to read it."

Smiling, I run my fingers through his chest hair, searching for the grey strands but getting distracted. His chest is a work of art, all hard muscles and smooth skin. I run my hands over his pecs, my fingers tracing the lines of his ribs. He's so much biggerthan he was, the slabs of muscle packed on strong bones. He shivers under my touch, his breath hitching.

I lean up, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat. He groans, his head falling back. I take advantage, trailing kisses down his chest, my hands exploring every ridge and valley.

He lets me play, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But when I reach for the button of his jeans, he grabs my wrists, stopping me. "Not yet," he says, his voice rough. "I want to touch you first."

He pushes me back against the seat, his hands sliding up my thighs. He reaches the edge of my jeans, his fingers toying with the button. I squirm, my breath hitching as his fingers dip beneath the fabric, brushing against my sensitive skin.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his eyes locked on mine as he undoes the button, and eases the zipper down, making room for his hand. Thank fuck I like my jeans loose.

I give a nod, my heart pounding like a drum. "Yes," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "Everything's okay, as long as you don't have any strange fetishes, like wanting to pee on me. But anything else you want to do is a-ok."

He lets out a chuckle, his fingers sliding further, finding the heat of my desire. I gasp, my hips bucking involuntarily as he begins to stroke me, his touch gentle yet firm. I can feel the calluses on his fingers, the rough texture sending shivers down my spine.

He leans down, capturing my mouth in another kiss, deeper and more passionate than before. His tongue moves in time with his fingers, a slow, sensual dance that has me writhing beneath him, my body responding instinctively to his touch. I can feel the pressure building, my body tensing as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.

He pulls back, his breath hot on my cheek. "Come for me, Blair," he whispers, his voice low and urgent. "Let me see you fall apart."

For a moment, I fight it. I want this to last forever. But everything feels too good, too hot, too big. But then, his hips push against my core, pressing his hand harder against me, and with a low moan, I give in, letting myself fall into the abyss.

I tumble over the edge, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over me. He continues to stroke me, his touch gentle now, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

When I finally come down, I find him watching me, a soft smile on his lips. "That was..." I trail off, unable to find the words.

He chuckles. "Yeah," he says, his voice hoarse. "It was."

"I didn't know," I murmur, staring up at him. Pretty sure he has a halo. "Nothing's felt like that. Not ever." Adam who? Seriously. He's a good guy, but I never felt even a tenth of this heat with him.

God. What if I'd settled for Adam? What if I'd married him and thought that was love? That feeling good was all there was?

With Ransom, it's so much more. More everything. Too much more. I want to hang on to make sure I don't fly away.

So I do.

I reach for him, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, it's slower, sweeter. But the heat is still there, simmering just beneath the surface. I can feel it in the way his body presses against mine, in the way his hands tangle in my hair.

I reach for his jeans again, and this time, he doesn't stop me. I flick open the button, sliding the zipper down. He helps me push the fabric down his hips, his breath hitching as I reach into his underwear and wrap my hand around him.

He's hot and hard in my hand, and I stroke him slowly, my thumb brushing over the tip. He groans, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against mine.

"Fuck, Blair," he breathes, his hips moving in time with my hand. "That feels so good."

I smile, my heart swelling at the raw honesty in his voice. This is Ransom, my Ransom, the boy I fell in love with all those years ago. And now, here we are, fumbling and laughing and loving each other in the front seat of my dad's old truck.

"Do you think Dad knows we're defiling his truck?" Shit. Where did that come from? Way to kill the mood, McKenna.

Ransom rears up, giving me a startled look. "Did you seriously bring up your Dad?"

"Nope. Never mind. I never said anything." I start wiggling out of my jeans and underwear. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Thankfully, he’s completely distracted by and busies himself tugging my pants down. My slip on sneakers are tossed somewhere in the footwell, then he falls into the cradle of my hips. Our parts line up perfectly, making both of us groan.

"Holy fuck. Dammit, Blair, I had a fucking plan. But I feel like I'm going to get inside you and that will be it. I feel like a fucking teenager."

I run my hands down his back, squeezing his ass. "No, you really don't. Trust me. You are all man and very grown up."

---