Page 75 of Unrivaled

“Okay,” she breathes.

But she’s a dirty, dirty liar, because as soon as we stop at a stoplight, her fingers slide higher, so close to my dick that I’m in pain from the anticipation of her touching me. I might pass out from lack of blood flow to my brain.

I growl her name, and she looks up at me, eyes wide and innocent. “We’re stopped.”

When I narrow my eyes, her innocent look turns back into that sexy teasing one she wore all through dessert.

“You’re the worst,” I tell her.

She just laughs. “You say that now, but I’m pretty sure you won’t later.”

At the next stoplight I hold my breath, wondering if she’ll move into the crease of my thigh, and if she does, will she actually rub against my dick?

Do I want her to?

I mean, hell yes, obviously I do. But also I’m driving so maybe it’s not the best idea.

To my disappointment and relief, all she does is draw tiny tickly circles on the inside of my thigh. When I flex my quad under her hand, she gives me a squeeze in return and then goes back to the circles until the light turns green.

Between the restaurant and the drive, I’m not sure I’ll have the control to do everything I want once we’re in my apartment. But damn if I’m not going to give it my best shot.

Her hand leaves my thigh as soon as I put my car in park, and she’s out the door before mine’s even open, waiting for me at the front of the car.

After all the teasing she’s put me through, I take my sweet time, getting out slowly even though drawing it out is as much torture for me as it is for her.

She’s practically bouncing with impatience and anticipation, and I raise my eyebrows and smirk at her as I stroll to the front of the car and offer her my elbow.

She scowls at me as she threads her arm through mine. “I thought you were in a hurry.”

“Payback’s a bitch.”

She laughs as we walk to my front door, and she releases my arm so I can unlock it.

Once we’re inside, though, all bets are off. Coats fall to the floor, and I push her up against the door, hooking one leg up over my hip as my mouth crashes into hers.

She wraps her hands around my neck and hangs on, using her grip to pull herself closer to me, her hips tilting to rub against whatever part of me she can reach.

I find the hem of her dress and slide my fingers up her leg, relishing the feel of her satin soft skin under my fingers.

I move higher, higher, higher, expecting to find a thin layer of fabric, but I reach her waist and there’s nothing.

Nothing.

I tear my mouth from hers with a curse. “Jesus, Tiff, you mean to tell me you weren’t wearing panties all through dinner?”

That coy, sexy smile is back on her face as she shakes her head.

“Fuuuuuck.”

She pulls my mouth back to hers, but I don’t stay there long. Instead I slither down her body, dropping kisses along her neck, collarbone, and cleavage, nipping at her belly through the fabric of her dress and sink to my knees.

Smoothing her dress up her thigh, I push the fabric into her hand. “Hold this.”

She takes it from me, bemused uncertainty on her face. But when I move her leg over my shoulder, grip her ass, spread her open with my fingers, and sink my tongue in her sweet, wet pussy, any uncertainty about my intentions has to be wiped away.

With a gasp, she tilts her hips toward me, giving me better access, feeding me her pussy.

And dear lord, I don’t know if I’ll ever get my fill of this woman. Sweet and tangy and so wet for me, so naughty, and I fucking love it.

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