20. Harlow

CHAPTER 20

HARLOW

We gather our stuff up quickly, throwing the soaked blanket and lawn chair into the back of Jefferson’s truck and then climbing inside.

I’m so wet. And not just from the rain.

Damn. Jefferson just gave me an orgasm on a lawn chair at the bonfire.

Easily.

I shouldn’t be surprised he’s good at that. He’s good at everything and as turned on as I was, it shouldn’t be a shock at all that he was able to make me come so easily and quickly.

But dang, that was hot.

Things have definitely shifted between us and I like it. I like this change and I like that we’ve talked about it and we seem to be on the same page.

But now that we’re in his truck and headed toward his house, I’m chewing on my bottom lip and wondering if we’re making some of this up.

Is it just the festival? Is it just wanting to make Zach jealous? I noticed him after we’d gone over to Jefferson’s truck to get the lawn chair. I hadn’t seen him before, but he was there by the time Jefferson came over to dance with me. Is that a coincidence or did that have something to do with my fake boyfriend joining me and putting his hands on me?

And the make out… it had been so good. So, so good. But it had been dark and we’d been caught up in bonfire stuff and we hadn’t been looking at each other. Maybe that all made it easier to get lost in the moment. To kind of forget who we were and what we were doing.

“Hey, can you pull over?” I ask, looking over at Jefferson.

He looks at me quickly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Mostly.”

He frowns. “Mostly?”

“Can you pull over?” I scan the road in front of us. “There.” I point at a turn in. That road also leads down to the river. There’s not a wide bank here so it’s not as good for parking a lot of vehicles, building a bonfire, and hanging out, but it will be fine for one truck.

“Are you sick?” Jefferson asks, taking the turn.

“No. I just need to stop for a second.”

He grips the wheel a little tighter. “This can’t wait until we get to the house?”

Actually, I don’t think it can. “No.”

He gives me another quick glance, but he keeps driving. “How far?”

“To the river.”

He seems frustrated, but he does it.

Two minutes later, he puts the truck in park twenty feet from the river’s edge. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Just this.” I open my door enough to make the overhead light come on.

He frowns and blinks in the sudden light. “What?”

I lean in, our faces six inches apart, and meet his eyes.

“I just need to see if this is awkward with the lights on, no other people around, just us and our very clear intention to have sex.”

He lifts a brow and lets me study his face. “You think it would be awkward with the lights on?”

“Maybe. I just want to be sure we weren’t caught up. Or that the dark wasn’t making it easier to do all of that.”

He leans closer, our noses almost touching. “You think I need something to make it easier to touch you? Because I would really love to find something that made it easier not to.”

I smile at that. “So this wasn’t just a caught up in campfire smoke or Zach being there thing?”

“Wanting to get my hand in your panties and feel you come around my fingers?” he asks, his gaze locked on mine.

I feel my cheeks heat, but like before, I don’t think I’m blushing. I think it’s lust. “Yeah,” I say, my voice husky.

“Absolutely not.” He reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I want nothing more than to turn the lights on bright, spread you out where I can get at every inch of you, and make you come around a lot more than my fingers.”

Oh, yeah, it’s definitely lust coursing through me.

No, this isn’t awkward with a light on, and looking directly into his face. Thinking about Jefferson Riley having his fingers inside me, feeling me coming apart, only makes me feel hot and very horny.

“Good.” I pull my door shut, then slide across the center console and into his lap, straddling his thighs. I sink my fingers into his hair and kiss him.

His hands grip my waist, and I can feel his thick, hard cock pressing against my center.

We kiss, deeply and hungrily for nearly a minute, then he pulls back. “Bed. Spread out. Lights.”

“Later. I want you right now.”

“Harlow—”

I take his face in my hands. “Jefferson. Fuck me. Right now, in the front seat of your truck, where you will think about it every time you get in this thing.”

His hands grip me tighter, and he groans, his head tipping back against the seat.

I smile, running my hands down his neck, then back up to his face. “Please.”

His head comes up. “You are such a brat.”

My grin grows. “And I know your big secret.”

“What’s that?”

“That you really like brats.”

He growls and brings me in for another kiss. Then he says against my mouth, “I really like you .”

Then he reaches for the side of his seat and hits the switch that sends the seat sliding back away from the steering wheel a few more inches.

I grin, sit back and pull my dress up and over my head. That leaves me naked in his lap except for my panties.

There’s enough light from the moon filtering into the truck cab that I can see the way his eyes flare with heat. He drags in a breath through his nose. “Fuck, Harlow.”

“Touch me.”

His hands come up to cup my breasts, thumbing over my nipples. I put my hands on the backs of his, arching into his touch.

He kneads, plucks, and squeezes. “You are so gorgeous,” he tells me. Then a hand goes to my back, between my shoulder blades and he brings me to his mouth, his lips latching onto one nipple, sucking softly, then harder, before biting me gently.

Heat streaks from my breasts to my pussy and I gasp. “Yes!”

I immediately start bunching his shirt up, gathering it under his arms until I can push it up over his head. He lifts his arms and helps me whisk it off. I run my hands over his shoulders and chest, down his ribs to his abs. All that glorious tan skin and muscle that I’ve been ogling for days.

“You’re so gorgeous too,” I tell him honestly.

“We really should have been doing this long before now,” he says, bringing me forward so he can tease my nipples with his tongue and teeth again.

I nod even though he can’t see me. “We really should have.”

I continue to stroke his back and knead his bunching biceps as he stokes the fire deep in my belly with his mouth on my breasts.

When I’m wiggling against his cock he finally pulls back. “Lose them.” He plucks the elastic waistband of my panties away from my hip and lets it snap back.

“You too,” I say, sliding momentarily to my seat so I can wiggle out of my underwear.

He watches me raptly as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans. He pushes the denim and his boxers down past his knees. I drop my panties on the floor and then kneel on the seat.

I take in the sight of him naked—mostly—for the first time.

The gray sweatpants he wore at the house gave me an idea, but it was nothing compared to him naked and aroused.

“Come here,” he commands, his voice low and rough.

I reach out and wrap a hand around his shaft. “Just a second.”

His breath hisses out between his teeth. “Harlow.”

I stroke up and down, measuring his length and girth. “You are?—”

He reaches over, grabs me, and hauls me into his lap. “You are a brat. Need you.”

“Yes.” I sink into his lap, pressing my lips to his. “But we’re going to come back to me staring at your huge cock later.”

His hand cups me, sliding a finger into my pussy. “I was thinking we’re going to come back to you on your knees in front of my huge cock later.”

I shiver with lust. His finger, his dirty words, the idea of… all of everything with him is just a big fat yes .

“Reach down and grab a condom out of my wallet,” he says, his fingers doing magical things between my legs.

I do, somehow. He has an arm around my waist while his other hand torments my clit, so I don’t fall out of his lap. I find his wallet in the jeans around his knees, open it, pull out a foil wrapper, and rip it open.

He removes his hand so I can move back far enough to roll the condom down his length. Which is regrettable for about twenty seconds.

Then he brings me forward, positions me over his cock, and then I’m sliding down, taking him in and…Oh. My. God.

Nothing regrettable about this.

This is so good.

He’s definitely bigger than any of the men I’ve been with before. Definitely bigger than my vibrators. And I’m almost immediately ruined for anything else ever again.

“Jefferson,” I moan as I still, just adjusting.

“Jesus, Harlow,” he says. It sounds like he’s talking through gritted teeth. “You’re so fucking good. ”

I nod. “Yeah. This is…so good.”

And we haven’t even started moving yet.

“Okay, brat, move this gorgeous body.” He squeezes my hips.

“I have to do the work?” I ask, lifting and lowering myself.

He gives a low growl that tightens my nipples and my pussy. God, I love affecting him.

Then he grips my hips tighter and moves me. “I’ll help. But I’m already up one orgasm.”

“Oh, we’re keeping track of who gives who the most orgasms?”

He gives me a grin that makes me as hot as his huge cock or his growly voice. “Of course we are.”

I laugh. Of course we are.

So I start moving, and he keeps moving me, and the truck gets very hot, and there are lots of growls and moans and yes, and fuck , and Jefferson , and Harlow , and then I come very hard, just before he shouts and presses me down firmly against him and comes just as hard.

Then he holds me against his chest for nearly ten minutes, stroking my hair and my back. I breathe so easy with my cheek pressed over his heart.

And I realize that I hope this “competition” between us never ends.

I hope none of our little competitions and games and arguments ever end.

And once we get back to his house, I manage to even up the score.

Of course, I do.

We wake up the next morning three to three.

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