Chapter 8
Tank
She pulls me closer, and my thoughts fade away.
My mouth finds hers, and this kiss is nothing like our first—a tentative exploration on the porch, testing boundaries, learning each other. This desperate kiss demands, “I need you now, don't stop.”
Jessie half moans, half whimpers against my lips, and I swallow it whole. My hand moves from her jaw to the back of her neck, tilting her head so I can deepen the kiss. She tastes of huckleberry pie and coffee and something uniquely her. Something I’m already addicted to.
“Tank.” She’s out of breath, her fingers caught in my flannel, urging me closer, even though there’s no space left between us. “We’re in public.”
“Don’t care.”
“Someone’s going to see—”
“Let them.”
I kiss her again, harder, and she arches into me with a gasp that shoots straight to my cock.
Her hips press against mine, grinding, and she can feel exactly what she's doing to me. The evidence is impossible to miss. I’m so hard it borders on painful, straining against my jeans like a goddamn teenager.
A movement catches my eye. Mabel Hutchins is walking down the opposite sidewalk, a shopping bag over her arm.
She sees us.
Instead of the scandalized gasp I expect, Mabel’s smile is slow and knowing. She raises a hand in a wave before continuing on her way, disappearing around the corner as if she didn’t just catch the town hermit mauling a woman against his F-150.
Jessie laughs against my shoulder, her entire body shaking with it. “That’s going to be all over town by dinner.”
“Probably.” I can’t bring myself to care. Not when she’s pressed against me like this, warm and willing and mine. “We need to go somewhere more private. Now.”
She laughs, incredulous. “Tank, I’ve been wanting this since the auction. Get in the damn truck.”
The old logging road is two miles outside of town—a dirt track winding up into the pines. I used to come here when my thoughts got too loud, when the cabin walls closed in. It’s secluded. Private. Perfect.
Jessie’s hand rests on my thigh the entire drive, her fingers tracing patterns through the denim that make it hard to concentrate on the road. She inches higher with each curve, her pinky brushing against my cock through my jeans, nearly causing me to drive us into a ditch.
Christ. This woman is going to kill me.
By the time I pull into the small clearing, I’m so hard it hurts. I kill the engine, and silence rushes in, leaving just the tick of the cooling motor and the distant call of birds.
“So.” Jessie’s voice is husky. “This is your secret spot?”
“One of them.”
“It’s beautiful.” She gazes out the windshield at the view of the mountains rising in the distance.
The wintry afternoon light filters through the pines, and the quiet settles into my bones.
Golden light highlights the red in her hair. The flush on her cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her chest still linger from our kiss against the truck.
Mine, something primal whispers. She’s mine.
“Jessie.”
She turns, and whatever she sees in my face makes her breath catch. “Yeah?”
Her pupils are wide, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed.
She looks like a woman who wants to be devoured.
Good. Because I’m starving.
“Get over here.”
She moves—or tries to. The center console is in the way, and for a moment, we’re both fumbling. Her knee catches the gear shift, and my elbow knocks against the window.
She’s laughing as she tries to climb over. “This isn’t as sexy as it looked in my head.”
“Hang on.” I reach down and yank the seat release, sliding it back as far as it goes. It isn’t far enough for my frame, but it’s something. “Try now.”
She clambers over the console until she’s straddling my lap, her knees bracketing my hips, and I stop caring about logistics.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi yourself.”
This time, I kiss her slowly, savoring her soft mouth. My hands find her hips, then her waist, sliding under the hem of the flannel she’s still wearing. Her skin is warm and smooth, and she shivers when I drag my fingers up her spine.
“Your hands are cold,” she murmurs against my mouth.
“Warm them up then.”
I pull the flannel over her head, her bra coming off with it. Suddenly, she’s bare from the waist up, and my brain goes completely offline.
Creamy skin. Pink nipples already peaked. Freckles scattered across her chest like stars I want to map with my tongue.
“God.” I trail kisses down her throat, pausing to suck her pulse point. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Smudge.”
She pulls back slightly, breathless. “You keep calling me that.” A gasp when I scrape my teeth over her collarbone. “Is it because I make smudges on my sketches? Because I’m messy?”
I laugh, low and dark. “Is that what you thought?”
“Then why—”
I lean in close, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“Because I knew the second I saw you that you were a dirty girl underneath all that sunshine.” I let my teeth graze her earlobe, feeling her body shudder.
“Filthy.” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes.
“And I’ve been thinking about getting you messy ever since. ”
Her moan goes straight to my cock.
She digs her fingers into my shoulders, her pulse racing where her chest presses against mine.
“That’s what I thought.” I take her nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, and her back arches so sharply she hits the steering wheel. “Show me how dirty you can get, Smudge.”
Before I finish speaking, she’s yanking at my shirt. I help her wrestle it off, my elbows knocking against the window, my knee hitting the horn and making us both jump.
“Smooth,” she says, grinning.
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
I do.
My mouth finds her breast, and she moans loudly enough that it echoes in the cab. I worship her, sucking, licking, and gently biting when she gasps for more. Switching sides, I use my teeth just enough to make her squirm and grind against my cock.
“Tell me what you need.”
“Your mouth.” No hesitation. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown. “Lower.”
“That’s my dirty girl.”
The positioning is creative—her back against the passenger door, one leg hooked over the seat, the other braced against the dashboard. It’s not comfortable, but I don’t care, not when she’s spread open for me like an offering.
I drag her jeans down just far enough, impatience winning over the need for full removal, and spread her thighs with my palms. The sight nearly stops my heart. Pink and glistening, she’s so wet that her panties are soaked through.
I press my thumb against the damp fabric, and she whimpers.
“Look at you.” I pull her panties aside, exposing her completely. “So pretty. So fucking ready for me.”
“Tank—”
“Sawyer.” I kiss her inner thigh, feeling her muscles quiver under my lips. “When I’m about to taste you for the first time, you use my real name.”
I lean in and drag my tongue through her center in one long, slow stroke. The taste of her is salt, honey, and something richer, hitting me like a drug.
Her hips buck off the seat, and I pin them down with one forearm, holding her right where I want her.
“Again,” she gasps. “Please, Sawyer.”
“Since you asked so nicely.”
I settle in and learn her. Circling her clit with the flat of my tongue makes her hips buck. Sucking gently, then harder when she moans, makes her fingers twist in my hair hard enough to sting. Sliding two fingers inside her while I work her clit with my mouth makes her thighs tremble.
She’s hot, slick, and tight around my fingers. The thought of how she’ll feel around my cock makes me groan against her.
“Oh, God!” Her back arches. “Right there. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare!”
I curl my fingers, locating the spot that makes her cry out, and suck her clit hard.
She breaks.
Her thighs clamp around my head, her fingers nearly ripping my hair out. Her broken, keening wail immediately fogs the windows. I work her through it, gentling my mouth as the aftershocks roll through her, feeling her pulse around my fingers.
When she finally goes boneless, weakly pushing at my shoulders, I press one more possessive, claiming kiss to her center and crawl back up her body.
“Enough,” she pants, pulling my mouth to hers. She kisses me deeply, tasting herself on my lips, and the intimacy of it makes my cock throb. “I need you inside me. Now.”
More fumbling. She kicks her jeans off one leg while I shove mine down enough to free my cock. I’m so hard for her, the head already weeping and desperate for her.
I grab a condom from my wallet, tear open the packet with my teeth, and roll it on while she watches with dark, hungry eyes. Her gaze on my cock makes it twitch, and she licks her lips deliberately.
“Later,” I growl. “You can play with it later. Right now, I need to be inside you.”
“Promises, promises.” But she’s already positioning herself over me, her thighs framing my hips.
I grip her hips to steady her. “Ready?”
“I’ve been ready.” She locks her gaze with mine as she sinks down on me slowly, agonizingly slowly, taking me inch by inch. “The real question is whether you can keep up, Mountain Man.”
The clever retort dies in my throat. Jesus Christ, she’s so tight and hot and perfect, her body stretching around me like she was made for this. Made for me.
When she finally bottoms out, we both groan.
She’s fully seated, every inch buried inside her, and I have to close my eyes, breathing through the urge to flip her over and pound her into the seat. My fingers dig into her hips, hard enough to leave bruises.
“Move,” she demands, rolling her hips experimentally.
“You feel too good.” I grit the words out through clenched teeth. “I need a minute, or this is going to be embarrassingly fast.”
Her expression softens. She leans in and kisses my jaw. “That’s actually really flattering.”
“You’re a goddamn revelation.” I open my eyes to meet hers. “I’ve been thinking about this since you walked onto that stage, looking like you wanted to murder everyone in the room.”
“I did want to murder everyone.”