Page 66 of Awaiting the Storm
“Home, safe and sound. Just like I promised.”
Disappointment slides through me for a brief moment, followed by appreciation.
He kept his word.
He puts the truck in park, cuts the headlights, but keeps the engine running as I turn to him and smile.
“Thank you for the pizza. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed salty, cured meats and gooey, full-fat cheese. I mean, I’m all for this healthy new lifestyle, but sometimes, a girl’s body just craves something naughty,” I say, then press my lips together to stifle a giggle when he sucks in a breath and groans.
He leans back and turns his head to face me. He’s incredibly handsome. I reach over and run my fingertips along his jaw, where dark stubble is growing.
“I like this,” I whisper.
“Yeah?” he replies.
I nod. “I love how it feels against my skin when you kiss me, especially when you kiss my neck.”
“I’ll never shave before one of our dates again,” he promises.
“So, there’s gonna be a follow-up date?”
His hand comes up and covers mine. He guides a finger to his lips and kisses it gently. “Hopefully, there will be many,” he says.
The air inside the cab of the truck is electrified. The attraction crackling between us like a live wire.
I suck in a deep breath to try and get my racing heart under controlas he kisses the next finger, and then he releases my hand and reaches over to lift my chin.
“Good night,” he says.
He leans in and takes my mouth, and I kiss him back.
It starts as a sweet good-night kiss, but before I know it, our hands are all over each other.
I’m not sure how long we make out in the truck like teenagers, but by the time we finally separate, my lips feel swollen and bruised.
Impulsively, I crawl across the seat and into his lap, straddling him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he caresses my thighs that are resting on either side of him.
I plant my lips on his and start to move against him, panting into his mouth as I slide against his growing erection.
He threads his hands into my hair and wraps it around one fist, tugging my head gently so he can trace the length of my throat with his warm mouth.
“Case,” I breathe as I dig my nails into his shoulder blades.
“I got you, baby,” he says as his teeth nibble at my ear.
He releases his one hand from my hair and slips it between us, and under my sweater, he finds my lace-covered breast. He plucks at the tender nipple, and sweet, hot pleasure shoots through me.
It’s been so long since a man touched me like this.
I can’t get close enough to him. My hands roam his shoulders and his neck. Sliding down his ribs and clutching his shirt, I jerk it free from his jeans.
I want to feel his skin, warm against mine.
Case’s hand releases my breast and continues down my stomach to the front of my jeans. He pops the button and tugs the little metal tongue, dragging the zipper down.
I rest my forehead against his shoulder and rock my hips as he touches me.
“Fuck, baby. You’re drenched.”
