Page 45 of The Love You Fight For
I wrap my arms around her body and pull her to me, the hot place between her legs lining up perfectly with my already hard cock, and I take her lips in a deep kiss. The moment she opens her mouth, I groan, licking my tongue over hers in a frenzied, tangled massage. I drag my hands up her back and arms, reaching between us to cup one of her breasts as she wraps her legs around my waist.
There’s nothing elegant about the way we collide—all greedy hands and lips and tongues. Fueled by need and desire. When she digs her heels into my back, pulling me closer, my hips buck into her and she whimpers. She shoves her hands under my shirt and scrapes her fingernails down my chest before palming my dick through my jeans.
My phone rings in my back pocket, but I ignore it, and she drags her lips from my mouth to my neck.
“Fuck, princess,” I grind out as she massages me, pressing kisses to my neck and collarbone. “Your mouth on me, your hands. It’s fucking torture.”
I feel her smile.
“Why torture?” she asks, pulling back enough to look me in the eyes.
She blinks innocently, and I have to clench my teeth and breathe through my nose to control myself. Her hand never leaves my cock. She never stops massaging me.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman here,” I say slowly, “but you’re making it difficult.”
She cocks her head to the side coyly and pops the button on my jeans, then slides the zipper down. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip.
“Difficult how?” she asks, slipping her delicate fingers into my boxers and wrapping them around my cock, pulsing on my piercing the way I like.
I drop my own hand and cup her pussy, feeling her heat through her dress pants. She gasps, her eyelids fluttering as I apply light pressure.
“Because all I really want to do is flip you around on this benchseat and sink into that hot little cunt from behind. I want to feel you clench around my cock the way you did on my fingers.”
She whimpers, then kisses me again, jacking my bare dick while I rub her pussy through her pants. If she keeps this up, I’m going to come in her hand, and I’m not even ashamed of it.
Gracelessly, she scoots farther back into the truck cab, urging me to follow with her hand wrapped around my erection, but when I do, my shoulders hit the steering wheel, and the horn honks. We both freeze, lips still pressed together, and wait a few seconds.
“Whoops,” I say, and she laughs against me.
I open my mouth to suggest we go to her apartment, then my name is called from the bar.
“Casper!” Paul shouts. “Casper, yo! You good?”
I sigh, and we break apart.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I call and turn back to find Sam checking herself in the visor mirror.
I tuck my painfully hard cock back into my pants and do up my zipper, then offer Sam a hand to help her down out of my truck.
“Sorry.” I give her a rueful grin.
She shrugs, then rubs her thumb over the corner of my mouth.
“Lipstick.” She takes my hat off her head and pushes it into my chest with a smirk. “You’ve got some on your neck, too. Might want to get that. It’s not verydiscreet.”
She brushes past me and walks back toward the bar, and for a few breaths, I just watch. Her hips sway with her confident stride, hands swinging loosely by her sides. She looks completely unaffected, and I’m still sporting a raging fucking boner.
“You’re torturing me, princess,” I call out.
“You’ll live,” she says, and I can hear the grin in her tone as she disappears back around the front of the bar.
I give myself five more minutes to get my dick under control, and then I head inside through the back entrance. I stop in the bathroom and check myself in the mirror. Sure enough, there’s a lipstick smudge on the place where my neck meets my shoulder. It’s not a perfect kiss print, but it still makes me think of the paper Ihave tucked in my wallet, and instead of washing it off, I leave it. My collar mostly hides it, anyway, and no one says anything about it the rest of the night.
A little before midnight, one of my servers pops her head into the kitchen and tells me my friends are leaving, so I wash my hands and head out to say goodbye.
I hug Lennon. I shake Macon’s hand. I glance around for Sam, but she’s nowhere to be seen.
“She’s outside,” Lennon says with her eyebrow raised. “Since you’re looking.”
