Chapter 9
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“No one’s here?” I couldn’t care less if there’s a garage full of people at Cole Automotive as we pull up. I’ll fuck Erica right here in her truck, against any vehicle in one of those bays, and do it with a whole audience of customers if that’s who’s inside there.
I’m that desperate for her.
I’m not a manwhore, not with all the time, energy, and focus I’ve put into keeping my family afloat. So I’m used to going a long while between hookups.
But she has me boiling inside, hungry in a way I don’t know I’ve ever felt. I have this bone-deep need to know how she feels under my hands, what sounds she makes, what her face looks like when she’s lost to pleasure. And I want her fingertips on my skin, branding me as hers, if only for a moment.
It’s been almost thirty-six hours since I last kissed her.
Too long by a mile. But it’s like we just blinked because all that fire we stoked up has reignited into an inferno, threatening to take us both under.
I want to be consumed by her, turned to ash by her, and burn her up too.
Fucking someone has never seemed as life or death as it does right now.
Stupidly dramatic, but also absolutely true.
“Shop closed at three so everyone’s gone home. I live upstairs.” She throws the truck in park and is out before I have a chance to bolt around and open her door. But I don’t think she cares about the lack of gentlemanly politeness because she’s dragging me by my T-shirt toward the garage door.
She makes quick work of the up and down, throwing the latch again so we’re secure. And she’s mine. Judging by the greedy look in her eyes, I’m hers too.
“Come on,” she says as she guides me toward a door across the room, on the other side of the garage.
I can’t wait. Alone with her is more than enough for me.
I push her against the door, gripping her jaw to lift it as I bend forward to meet her.
There’s no battle for dominance. It’s an acceptance that we’re both in charge as we consume each other.
Her tongue forces its way into my mouth, and I groan at the invasion, loving how aggressive she is, that she demands that I give as much as she is.
We kiss our way through the door into a breakroom, our hands roving and learning.
As we take a split second to gasp for air, I consider the table in the middle of the room.
Laminated fake-wood top on metal legs like they used to have at school—definitely sturdy enough for her to lie on, but I’ll break it for sure.
I’m happy to stand and fuck her laid back on that table, though.
“No. I’m not having sex where my guys eat their lunch.”
Shit. When she says it like that, I don’t want her pussy anywhere near there, either.
She points at another door and I let her lead me that way.
A set of stairs is revealed, and she takes them two at a time, even with her short legs.
With me a few steps behind her, I have a great view, and I grab her hips, stopping her.
She looks back, a smirk on her pink lips when she sees where my attention is centered. The seductive minx bends forward, her hands going to a step as she presses that tiny ass out toward me.
I spin my hat backward so it’s out of the way and lay a kiss to a thigh toned by hard work, thanking the devil himself for these cutoff shorts because only he would be this perverted.
I press a matching kiss to the other thigh, tracing the skin from her ankles to her ass with my callused hands.
I roughly knead the flesh of her hips and ass in my hands over the denim, now cursing its existence because it’s keeping me from the rest of her.
Luckily, they’re short, especially when she’s bent nearly in half.
My fingertip teases along the soft skin at the ripped edge, dipping underneath when she dances and sways her hips.
“More. Finger me.” There’s a breathiness to her voice I’ve never heard before. Not even when we kissed after the battery exchange. This is a new Erica. Needy, desire-filled, sex goddess Erica.
I love that she’s bold and tells me plainly what she wants. No gimmicks, no games, no guessing.
That doesn’t mean I do as she says. I’m not one of the people she bosses around, and she needs to know that.
I keep tracing along that hem, getting further and further under the denim until I find her panties.
Then I run my fingertips along that edge too, and she arches, fucking air as she searches for the ‘more’ she wants.
Her fingers work the button at her waist and she shoves her shorts down. When my hands get in the way, I move and the denim falls to meet her Converse sneakers, revealing grey cotton bikinis. Plain and sensible, and sexy as fuck on her.
But when she steps her feet as wide as the shorts around her ankles allow, I can see the wet spot on those panties and my cock goes iron-hard as all my blood rushes south.
She’s wet for me, and fuck, do I want to deserve it.
My thumbs graze along the soft skin peeking out at her core as I bury my nose there, inhaling her.
I groan against her, and even that slight vibration has her begging for more.
Not.
Any other woman would. But not Erica Cole.
No, she balances herself on one hand and slips the other into her panties, petting herself if I won’t do it.
“Fuck, that’s sexy. But let me.” I slide her panties to the side, watching for a moment longer before slowly licking a long line from her fingers over her clit all the way up to the rosebud of her ass.
She bucks, her hips as demanding as her mouth.
This time, I give in, not teasing either of us anymore.
I slip my arm around her thighs, locking her against my mouth, and get to work. My tongue tastes every nook and cranny, mapping and memorizing her, learning what she likes and what makes her go wild.
Her moans get higher pitched as she gets closer to coming.
I can’t wait, want to see her explode, want to taste it on my tongue as she clenches on me.
I ease a finger in, finally finger fucking her like she told me to, and she sighs like it’s the best thing she’s ever felt.
My cock throbs, dangerously close to the point of no return.
I will not come in my damn jeans just from the taste of her. I won’t. The pep talk isn’t helping, so I release her legs to palm myself, figuring if I’m coming like this, I’m going to make it good for me too.
She looks back at me through the window between her elbow and knee. “Let me see you. Jack yourself while you finger fuck me.”
My eyes cross as I rasp. “Shit, I’m gonna come just from your talking like that.”
“Got a hairpin trigger, Cowboy?”
Her tease is a challenge, one I’m up for.
I leave her pussy empty, taking my wet finger to my mouth as she watches with a smirk.
“You’re fucking delicious, Lil Bit. Pretty pink pussy all wet for me.
” She nods, watching as my now-clean hand drops to my jeans.
I make quick work of the button and shove my jeans and underwear down in the front, freeing my cock and balls.
A few slow pumps have her eyes dilating.
“I want that.” It’s the best reaction my cock’s ever received.
I’ve gotten the porn-star-mimicked ‘oh, my, so big’ before, and even a few fearful looks of concern over my size.
In three words, the blatant, hungry, honest desire for my thick length from Erica Cole has wiped any other woman’s compliment from my mind. “Can you go more than once?”
“I’m thirty, not dead. And have you seen this pussy?” Her eyebrow says I didn’t answer the question. “Yeah, Erica. I can go more than once,” I answer dryly, unlike her dripping slit and my precum-covered crown.
She sways her hips in reminder of her order. Normally, I’m not one to follow those, but her plan is even better than mine, so I slip one finger back into her wet warmth and the other hand around my cock. “Good fucking thing I’m ambidextrous.”
“I’m sure you could make it work even if you weren’t.” The barb fades at the end, becoming a hiss as I add another finger. “Yes.”
Her eyes stay locked on my fist, moving up and down my length in tempo with my fingers moving in and out of her slick cunt.
In and out, up and down, over and over. And when I brush my thumb over her clit, she comes, crying out my name and making me feel like a fucking god.
I slam my fingers into her roughly, curling them against that rough patch along her front wall, milking every bit of pleasure from her I can.
She is fucking glorious, just like I knew she would be.
She doesn’t do anything halfway, including orgasming.
She’s wild and loud, barking at me not to stop, and when she tells me to come with her, I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
Lightning jolts through my spine, going from my balls through my cock, and I spurt all over my hand.
My teeth grit, neck muscles tight as I force her name out. This orgasm is hers. She did this to me even though it’s my hand on my cock.
Panting as we recover, I lick lazily over her clit and taste her sweetness on my fingers which are still buried in her and all over her soft outer lips. She makes happy noises that feel like high praise. “Mmm. Let’s go upstairs.”
She wiggles her ass, which I think is an attempt to dislodge me, so I tease her again. When I don’t withdraw, she stands up and moves two steps away.
I whine at the loss and then grin when she runs up the rest of the steps with a deep chuckle that makes me think of smoke and whiskey.
She stepped out of her shorts, her T-shirt has dropped down over her panties, which are askew and show me one tantalizing ass cheek, and she’s still got her Converse on.
In a weird way, it’s sexier than lingerie on her.
I follow her, slipping my cock back into my underwear and wiping my hand on my jeans before grabbing her shorts.