Page 122 of Sinful Like Us
She burrows into my hard chest. “Don’t…stop.”
“I won’t,” I whisper, my large palm gliding up and down the length of her back, along the line of her smooth shoulders and her soft thighs.
She reaches back to her spine and tries to snap off her wet bra.
I unclasp it, slipping the straps down her bare shoulders. I watch her eyes follow my fingertips that track scalding trails as I remove her clothing.
And I glance at the windshield. To see if Tony has a visual inside our car. With our body temperature and the heaters on full-blast, we’ve created a sauna, the windows completely fogged.
Farrow makes sure Maximoff doesn’t look back and see his cousin topless.
All clear.
I warm her cold skin, kneading her breasts and puckered nipples, and Jane melts into me. My pulse pounds.
She rests her chin on my chest, just to look up at me. Her breath becomes shallow…then deeper.
Finally.
I clasp her cheek, our lips brushing before I press mine to hers in raw, deep passion. Breathing life into Jane, and she careens into the sweltering kiss. Her fingers gripping stronger on my biceps. My muscles contract and I pull her against me.
When our mouths break apart, I make sure my girlfriend doesn’t look forward and see Maximoff stripping off his wet boxer-briefs.
Farrow undoes his own belt—about to give his fiancé his dry clothes.
I do the same. My white tee off, I pull the soft fabric over Jane’s head, which hangs down to her thighs. The car is heavy breath and blood-scalding heat.
Jane wraps up in my shirt and lets out a soft noise, more content. But then she shifts slightly and winces.
Her leg.I check the cut.Bleeding has stopped.While I apply a bandage, I ask, “How bad does it hurt?”
“It stings,” she whispers. “But I don’t want to move.”
I weave my arm around her hips and shoulders. Tucking her against me. I look at the front seat. “Farrow, you good to drive with the rain?” In the past, storms have triggered certain memories for him.
“Yeah. It’s not affecting me.” Farrow pulls off his dry black V-neck and passes the fabric to Maximoff.
“No, man.” Maximoff shoves the shirt back to Farrow. “You need that more than I do.” A shiver runs through him.
His brows spike with a barbell piercing. “I’m sweating, so no, I really don’t.” He snaps in his seatbelt.
Maximoff relents, already tugging on Farrow’s black pants over his waist. He kisses Farrow, then focuses on his cousin. “You okay, Janie?” He restrains himself from glancing back.
“Yes.” She buries her cheek in the crook of my arm. “Are you?”
“Yeah.”
I speak into my mic. “Banks to Tony, we’re Oscar Mike in three.”
Comms crackle. “Roger.”
While Farrow puts the car in gear, I detect this sadness in Jane, her lips downturned and eyes on the passenger seat. Where her best friend sits.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I whisper so they can’t hear.
She has a pained face. “Moffy won’t pick this location for the ceremony. I know how much he loved it, but we all know it’s not safe, especially if it rains.”
I skim her and can’t help but think that she’s the most loving person I’ve ever met. She just fell in freezing water, and instead of being concerned about her leg, she’s here empathizing with Maximoff.
