Chapter 17
Neither of them spoke a word on the drive. The tension in the air was so thick it would strangle a lesser man than Clay. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had affected him like this.
He stared openly at Andie as she pulled into the parking lot of the distributor. Somehow he managed to follow her into the place and help the guy load bag after bag of ice into the bed of the truck. They threw pads on top for insulation, thanked the man, and signed the invoice.
Instead of going around to the passenger side, Clay followed Andie to the driver’s door and opened it for her.
She looked shyly at him. “Trying to kiss up?”
“I don’t know about up,” he said. He pressed her into the side of the truck with his body. “You’re stunning in that dress, biker girl.”
Her smile faded and her eyes dropped to his mouth. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He kissed her, all the need that’d been building up for the past four torturous hours—hell, the past few days—exploding at the first touch of their lips. He’d long passed the point where gentle was an option, but Andie didn’t appear to mind. She wove her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer.
“Clay,” she uttered into his mouth, arching her body into his, setting off all kinds of friction that burned through every last layer of clothing that separated them.
His reply was more a groan than a word. He wasn’t sure he could speak if he wanted to.
She pulled away when a car full of teenagers went by, the group of boys howling and hooting at them through open windows.
“Clay.” Her voice was firm. “Get in the truck.”
She was breathing hard. They stared at each other for several heartbeats, and he saw the need in her eyes, matching his own. With half a nod, he sucked it up and stepped away from her, the loss of contact like no loss he’d ever felt before.
By the time he closed his door, she had the engine running and had thrown the truck into reverse.
He had no idea what her intentions were—he’d thought when she told him to get in the truck that finding the nearest motel was a possibility—but she drove with remarkable control, not a tick above the speed limit.
When she reached out to punch on the radio power, though, he could swear her hand shook.
When she turned off into a small park along the bay—the one he’d stopped at after the baby party—his hope soared.
She pulled all the way to the far end of the parking lot, in a private corner without light, and killed the engine.
Before he could say a word, she climbed over to his seat and straddled him, floor-length dress and all.
“Hi,” she said in a low, sexy voice.
“Hello.” His voice wasn’t working right. “Andie, what are you doing?”
She laughed, the sound seductive as hell. With a whisper of a kiss on his lips, she said, “You’re smart.” She nibbled at the corner of his mouth. “Capable.” Ran her tongue over his upper lip. “I imagine you can figure it out.”
“We’ve talked about this…”
“It’s time to get it out of our systems. Let it happen. No one will see us here.”
Those were points he couldn’t begin to argue with.
He closed his eyes and pulled her closer. “I’m shocked.” He grazed his lips over hers, his blood pounding from the feel of her everywhere, the sweet scent of her that filled the truck. “Scandalized.”
She laughed again, the sound turning needy as his hands roved over her.
“This isn’t a good place,” he whispered.
“Why not?”
“We’re like teenagers. Stealing away. I want you stretched out beneath me. In a bed.”
“Play your cards right and you might be able to have me there too.”
“Andie…”
“This isn’t a honeymoon, Clay. We don’t need satin sheets.” Her mouth caught his and wore him down, which took exactly two-thirds of a second. “But I can drive you back to the reception if you want.”
He laughed and yanked her to him. “I don’t think so.”
Andie’s dress had inched up her thighs when she’d climbed onto Clay’s lap. She felt his hand sliding over her thigh, beneath the material, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched. Then he was touching her everywhere, with his mouth, his hands. She was drowning in the sensations.
She made it her mission to explore every accessible inch of his body.
Yeah, the truck cab was a little cramped, but that wasn’t going to keep her from Clay.
It became their private, steamy world, and Andie couldn’t make herself care about anything else—the reception, what the girls would say, what might happen between her and Clay afterward.
She couldn’t even process afterward. She was fully absorbed in the right now, aching for him to fill her, quell the need, and yet never wanting the moment to end.
He lifted the dress over her head and tossed it on the driver’s seat, revealing her black lacy bra.
He drew both straps down her arms, baring her, and took her breast in his mouth.
His tongue drove her to a fever, had her arching her lower body into the distinct hardness that bulged between his legs, her breathing shallow, stuttered.
She pulled at the still-buttoned lower half of his shirt and ripped it open with both hands, craving the feel of his skin.
The buttons flew, one of them clinking against the window.
“Didn’t need that shirt anyway,” Clay said, eliciting a shaky laugh from her.
He pulled her into his chest, and the heat of skin on skin had her promising herself they would wind up in a bed, soon, where they could stretch out naked and have nothing but friction between them. For now, this was working just fine, thank you. She smiled.
“What’s the grin for?” Clay asked, his voice rough with need. “You could give a guy a complex, you know.”
“Like you’re short on confidence,” she whispered into his ear.
From what she could feel, he wasn’t short on anything.
She rubbed her hands over his chest, relishing the hard ridges and the dips beneath her fingertips.
As her fingers trailed lower, down to where their bodies were separated by too many layers of material, she tasted him, running her tongue over him, kissing and nibbling at his muscled chest. When she undid his pants, slid them down a few inches, and grasped him, he leaned his head back and let out a sexy groan from deep in his throat.
He was granite-hard and bigger than she could’ve imagined even as she’d straddled him over his clothes. She needed him inside her more than she needed her next breath. The only thing between them was her thong.
“My turn,” Clay said, and in an instant, her ripped underwear was a wad in his hand.
Andie reached for her purse on the console between the seats.
“What are you doing?” Clay asked, trying to pull her back to him.
“Condom.” She unzipped the purse and dug to the bottom.
“I’ve got one,” Clay said, grabbing his wallet, also from the console.
“Aren’t we just a corner drugstore,” Andie said, still fumbling to find hers.
“We can use mine.”
“Here,” she said, finally locating the packet and dragging it out.
“Got it,” he said, ripping his open.
“What’s wrong with mine?” she said, truly not caring what they used as long as she didn’t wind up pregnant.
“I know mine’s not expired.” He unrolled it along his length as she watched, biting her lower lip. After a second, his words sank in.
“I can’t decide if that’s an insult or not.”
“Take it however you want.” Clay grasped her hips.
“You know,” she said, fighting his effect on her, trying to keep her voice steady, “it’s not the best time to get on my bad side.” She touched her forehead to his and gazed into his eyes.
“You going to put your panties back on and drive off?” The grin on his face was wicked.
She slid him inside her and couldn’t help moaning. She ground her hips to take him in farther, her head falling back, body arching into his. “Not…just…yet.” Her words came out as barely more than a whisper.
“Was hoping you’d say that.” He tried to shift in the seat but got nowhere. “Good thing I bought the biggest truck on the lot.”
His large hands dwarfed her waist as they guided her body. Their rhythm quickly became urgent. Clay wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly to him so their skin, damp with sweat, was in full contact.
Andie buried her head into the side of his neck and nibbled at him relentlessly until she could barely breathe. She had no concept of the minutes that ticked by, only that she hoped this never, ever ended. Because later…
No. No thinking about later. Only now.
As he drove her higher, she threw her head back and called out his name repeatedly.
Maybe she was being too loud, but then he wasn’t exactly quiet, and besides, who was going to hear?
He thrust upward into her, over and over, and she lost control of the rest of her body as it clenched and contracted around him and she came.
“Fuck,” he said, his voice gritty, gasping, and then he stiffened and followed her over.
Andie melted into him as he trailed his lips along her neck and caressed her back.
Her heart thundered in her chest. And maybe she could feel Clay’s too.
She noticed for the first time the windows had fogged up in the humid night, granting them even more privacy.
As if she’d been worried about that ten minutes ago.
“Damn,” Clay said, his breath still ragged. “You do amazing things to me, biker girl.”
She laughed, low and lazy, totally sated. “I might have to start calling you truck boy, for more than one reason.”
“Might have to take this elsewhere for an encore so you don’t have reason to call me truck boy.”
The thought of doing this again made Andie shiver. Yet again she pictured him stretched out on top of her in her bed…
“Ow. Ow. Ouch.” She slid off him quickly, unceremoniously, and pushed her dress off the driver’s seat as she fell into it, naked as the day she was born.
“What the hell?” Clay asked.
Andie started laughing. “Cramp. In my leg. Too small in here.”
Clay’s low laughter joined hers as she massaged the muscle that had sent her through the roof. “Come here,” he said. “I’ll rub it for you.”
“Not in here. You’re not rubbing anything until I can stretch out all my parts completely.” She leaned across the console between them and met him for a long, unhurried kiss. “It’s getting better,” she said, still rubbing at the tight spot.
The sound of her cell phone ringing made her jolt upright as if they were high school kids getting busted in a car. Which, except for their age, they pretty much were. Andie scrambled to find her phone, holding her dress over her nakedness in a panic.
“Got a video camera on your phone or something?” Clay asked, grinning and handing her her bra, which had ended up on the dash, as she answered the call.
“Hello?” She tried hard not to sound breathless or…like she’d just had amazing truck sex.
“I don’t want to know where you are or what you’re doing,” Macey said, “but it’s hot and we have thirsty people.”
Andie glanced over to see Clay putting himself back together, buttoning the two buttons that remained on his shirt.
“On our way. There was a crowd…”
Macey laughed wholeheartedly. “Stop, Andie. Just bring the ice. Drive safely.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Later, I’ll want to hear all about it.”