Chapter 4
ANGUS
“You find kissing relaxing, huh?” I ask in the most innocent tone I can muster.
Not that there’s anything innocent about kissing my ex-maths professor on the bonnet of my Land Rover. But hey, if this is how he wants to forget his woes, I’m not going to complain.
“I like kissing, too.” I unfold my arms from under my head, fist his shirt, and pull him so our lips are tantalisingly close.
He arches an eyebrow as he stares into my eyes. “You want me to kiss you again?”
“Yes. If that’s what you want.”
He dips his lips to mine, kissing me with the same desperate fervour as before. I part my lips and suck on his whisky-flavoured tongue as he slips it into my mouth.
“Just checking—you’re not drunk, are you?” I search his face and his eyes.
He doesn’t seem to be drunk. His pupils aren’t dilated, and he’s not slurring his speech.
“After two whiskies over an hour ago?”
I chuckle. “You might be a lightweight for all I know.”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t drive, but I know what I’m doing.” He cups my face and strokes my cheek. Regret floods his eyes. “You don’t mind being my distraction?”
“Nope. I’m twenty-two. I think about sex every ten seconds.”
Richard snorts. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“I read it somewhere, so it must be true.”
“Do you know how many times a day that would work out at?”
“No. Enlighten me.”
He narrows his eyes. “Every ten seconds would be six times a minute, which is three hundred and sixty times an hour. Assuming you’re awake for sixteen hours, that would be five thousand, seven hundred and sixty times a day.”
I should not find a man doing mental maths quickly so fucking sexy, but I do. “Why are you assuming that I don’t think about sex while I’m asleep?”
He laughs. “No one thinks about sex almost six thousand times a day.”
“Let’s find out.” I take my phone out of my pocket and type ‘how often do men think about sex’ into the search bar. I pout at the answer.
“Well?” Richard asks.
“Only nineteen times a day,” I reply sullenly. “I must be above average.”
He props himself on his elbow, which the bonnet complains about with a creak and a pop, and gazes into my eyes. “Thank you for making me smile and laugh.”
“You’re welcome.”
I’m not naive enough to think I’ve chased his blues away. He’s hurting deep inside. But I have distracted him, so I’m chalking that up as a win. What happens now is up to him.
He downturns his lips, rolls onto his back, and rests his arms over his stomach. I follow his gaze to the sky, which is almost fully dark. The stars form a twinkling blanket above our heads, marred by the wispy clouds floating by.
Have I been too flirtatious? I’m pretty sure I didn’t misread all his wanting glances. Besides, he kissed me. It was nothing like the sloppy kisses from guys my age. It was skilled, nuanced, and toe-curlingly sexy.
He sits upright, leaning over me, obscuring my view of the stars.
I meet his stare and hold my breath. He leans down and kisses me.
It’s just as amazing as before. The things he does with his tongue in my mouth make goosebumps erupt over my skin.
I moan against his lips to show him how much I’m enjoying it.
Then he stops and lies on his back again, with his arm flopped over his forehead, and a battle raging in his eyes.
Should I offer to take him home? I don’t want to.
It’s also not up to me to babysit his feelings.
He’s an adult. He can choose to kiss whom he wants.
Okay, maybe things aren’t that simple. He’s married, although that feels like a technicality right now.
Assuming he was telling the truth when he said he’d made up his mind to file for divorce.
Why would he lie to me? To get into my pants?
If that were the case, we’d be in the back of Elle right now, fucking, not lying on her bonnet while Richard figures out what he wants.
I lose track of time as the clouds drift by. I do my best to locate constellations, but beyond the Big Dipper and Orion, I’m stumped. Astronomy was never my strong point. Not that it stops me from appreciating the beauty of the stars.
He shifts again, moving close enough to kiss me before he pauses and raises his brows. I nod, permitting him. He doesn’t disappoint me. If anything, this kiss is even more wonderful.
“There are so many reasons I shouldn’t be here. So many reasons I should ask you to take me back to town right now,” he says in a melancholy tone.
“Forget them all,” I whisper. “Whatever happens between us stays between us. I promise. I don’t kiss and tell. But, if you want me to take you back, I will.”
He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. Damn, his stare is so intense right now. What is he thinking? What is he feeling? “I don’t.” He leans down and kisses me again, this time softly and tenderly.
My lips tingle and my heart flutters.
“I should want that, but I don’t.” He bows his head to my shoulder and sucks in a shuddering breath.
He might not want it, but maybe it’s for the best.
“I’ll take you back.” I roll away from him and slide off the bonnet amidst a symphony of creaks. I stride to the driver’s side and grasp the door handle.
Richard puts his hand over mine. He’s standing close enough for me to feel his body heat.
It would only take a slight shuffle forward for him to press against me.
An image of him pushing me against the Land Rover so he can kiss the back of my neck floods my thoughts, making me shiver.
I suck in a needy breath. I’m trying to behave.
I’m trying to make sensible decisions. I’m trying not to get into a situation Richard will regret.
The trouble is, I don’t want to do any of those things.
I want the guy I’ve had a crush on since the moment I met him to do sexy things to me.
“I want to forget,” he says miserably. “I want to lose myself.”
I turn around. He’s two or three inches shorter than me, so we’re not exactly eye-to-eye. “Want me to help with that?”
“I’d be using you.”
“I’m happy to be used. Besides, you’d be making one of my wet dreams come true.”
He raises his brows and widens his eyes.
“In case no one has told you, you’re one sexy professor.”
He does a full-body shudder.
I tilt my head. “Did you like me calling you that?”
He whimpers and nods.
“Professor Jones.”
“Oh, fuck. That’s naughty.”
“But nice?”
“Yes.” He puts his hand on the back of my neck and tugs me down for a kiss. “This would be a one-time thing.”
“I know. We’re not the first two people to have a one-night stand, and we sure as hell won’t be the last.”
He glances into the Land Rover. “I bet those seats have seen a fair bit of action.”
“Hmm, a bit.” I’m not going to lie to him.
“Do you have—?” He kisses me instead of finishing his question, but I know what he’s asking.
“In the glove compartment.”
“And you’re sure no one else comes here at night?”
“Positive. The track is too rough for most vehicles.”
“I’ve never—” He steps into me, pushing me against the door. His body is hot, his cock is rigid against my leg. He’s so damned sexy.
“Fucked in the back of a Land Rover before?”
“No.”
“Trust me, it’s fun.” I hold out my hand.
He takes it, allowing me to tug him to the rear entrance of the Land Rover.
I open the double doors, and we climb in.
Richard pulls the doors shut behind us. We sit side by side on one of the bench seats.
He leans on one hand, cups my jaw with the other, and plies me with wondrous kisses that leave me reeling and desperate for more.
I rest my hands on his hips, untuck his shirt, and nudge it up so I can caress his skin.
He has love handles. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
Before I know it, our kisses become more frenzied.
Richard pushes me against the back of the passenger seat.
He sweeps his hand over my thigh, tantalisingly close to my hard cock.
He tugs my T-shirt off, gapes at my body, and then puts his hands on my pecs, squeezing as his palms stimulate my nipples.
I whimper and tilt my head back. He kisses my neck.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say.
“That you’re fucking gorgeous. Also wondering how the fuck you got an eight-pack!”
I laugh. “Working on a farm and lifting weights.”
“I approve.” He squeezes my pecs, then smashes his lips to mine and plunges his tongue into my mouth.
Holy fuck, I’m going to cum in my pants if he keeps this up.
Clumsily, I undo his shirt and remove it so that I can admire his body.
Unlike me, he doesn’t wax. His chest is covered in a blanket of thick, dark hair, which gets thinner the further south I gaze, until it’s nothing more than a wispy line, disappearing beneath his beltline.
I want to see more, but I need him to decide when—and if—that happens. He needs to call the shots.
He presses closer still, wraps his arms around me, and kisses me so fiercely I forget to breathe. I hold him in return, tickling my fingers over his back, before squeezing his amazing love handles.
He pops open the button on my jeans, grips the zipper, and then pauses, staring into my eyes.
“I want you,” I rasp, before sucking on his lower lip and lightly biting it. “I want you so much.”
He replies with a commanding kiss, pulls my zipper down, slides his hand into my pants, and squeezes my cock. “I want you, too.”