Page 158 of Make the Play

His satisfied hum rumbles against my throat. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, the neighbors file a noise complaint.”

I huff a laugh. “You don’t have neighbors, you feral maniac.”

“Exactly.”

He unlocks the car with a beep, yanks the back door open, and pulls me in behind him.

I climb in without a word. The door shuts behind me, the darkness swallowing us whole, and then I’m crawling into his lap, straddling him, my knees braced on the seat as I grip his shoulders.

His hands skate up the back of my thighs, over the curve of my ass, and he groans as they hit the waistband of my leather pants.

“Fuck me,” he mutters. “These pants have haunted me all night.”

I smirk, teasing the collar of his half-buttoned shirt. “You didn’t even get a full view.”

“I didn’t need one. My imagination’s been very busy.”

I grind down just enough to make him curse again. Then he tugs at the pants, slowly unwrapping his favorite present. Inch by inch, leather slides off my skin, and his breath gets heavier with every reveal.

“You’re not wearing panties.”

“I was in a rush.”

“You wore my jersey with no panties to my game?” His eyes are wild. “I should marry you just for that.”

I start to laugh, but then he moves me off him and drops to his knees on the floor of the SUV.

“No time,” he mutters, pushing my thighs apart. “Gonna taste you first. Need it.”

His mouth finds me in seconds. Hot and dirty, his tongue laps at me as if he’s starved. He groans into me, arms locked around my thighs, grinding his face deeper like he wants to live there.

“Chase—Oh mygod—”

“You taste better than I remember,” he pants, eyes dark and glazed. “Better than anything.”

I’m already trembling, hips bucking, hand in his hair. He sucks my clit hard, and I scream, clamping a hand over my mouth as I fall apart, legs shaking violently around his head.

When he finally pulls back, his mouth is wet and chin slick, and he wipes it on the back of his hand like a damn trophy.

Then he sits back on the seat and unzips.

“Been jerking off to the idea of this for days,” he mutters. “You. My jersey on your back while you bounce on my cock.”

He looks up then, eyes burning.

“I want the view in the rear-view mirror,” he says with a smirk. “Wanna see you fuck yourself on me, wearing me, knowing exactly who you belong to.”

“Jesus,” I whisper, jaw slack from his words. “You are so fucking gone for me right now.”

He grins with blood smeared on his bottom lip. I lean in and smudge it with my thumb, then kiss him, which only seems to make him more desperate.

“Get my cock out,” he orders, voice nearly feral.

I fumble with his pants, tugging them down just far enough while he grabs a condom from his wallet, tears it open with his teeth, and rolls it on.

“Get on, Zo,” he says.

I climb onto his lap without hesitation, both of us wild and breathing fast, the SUV a blur of fogged windows and leathercreaks. He grabs my ass as I hover over him, his voice rough and demanding.

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