Chapter 7
Seven
Quincy
Look at him.
Reef has every right to be an arrogant son of a bitch. There’s no way he’s not good at everything he lays his hands to. And if he fumbles that badly, well hell, I’ll just climb on top and take what I need. And have a damn good view while I do it.
Finally, after a long moment, I rasp, “Let’s go.”
Reef releases his hold on me and immediately darts to the passenger side of his car.
“My car…” I stammer, nodding toward my Volkswagen.
He pauses, the heat in his dark eyes making my pulse stutter. “I can’t fit in that thing,” he says.
Certainly not with that third leg that was just pressing up against me, I think silently.
I could have suggested he follow me in his car.
But there’s a kind of desperation that makes discussing logistics very annoying, and the irrational things—like leaving my car at the supermarket—seem like the only logical choice.
Whatever it takes to get us out of here faster, together, makes the most sense in the moment.
My breath catches in my throat as Reef reaches for my hand as he starts the car. Yowza. Mamma mia. Okay, girl. Get all the corny words out of your head now before you say something embarrassing. “Where do you live?” His rough hand squeezes mine as he asks.
“Take a left on Main and then right on…on Buzzard Mountain Road.” My mouth goes so dry it’s making it hard to get words out.
He mutters something about it being a twenty-minute drive.
The sun is almost below the horizon, and the sky is crazy beautiful as we ascend the winding road to my house.
We come to a four-way stop, and on impulse, I lean over and press my lips against Reef’s throat, made damp and sticky in the humidity.
Reef exhales a low groan and reaches over to cup my cheek, not letting me pull away.
He steals my breath in a claiming, heated kiss, capturing my bottom lip and letting his tongue slide over it.
The sensation ripples through me, making my skin itch to be rid of these work clothes that cling to me.
High beams flash, and someone honks their horn behind us.
We pull apart, the moment over.
With a grunt of frustration, Reef speeds the car across the intersection.
The road curves into the mountains, dark trees crowding the shoulder. After five more minutes of silence, Reef, shifting restlessly, squeezes my hand again.
Without warning, he pulls over into an abandoned overlook parking lot.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but it’s mostly performative. I have an idea.
Reef parks the car in a shaded corner and cuts the engine.
“This isn’t my grandma’s.”
“Nope,” he says, popping my seat belt.
We reach for each other across the console. Thick fingers tangle in my hair as our lips join in a fevered kiss.
In the midst of the kiss, Reef’s tongue licks over my bottom lip.
My lips part, welcoming that tongue into my mouth. I let out a small moan at how delicious it is. The licking tongue. The lingering taste of summer berries. The earthy scent of him. The way he crowds me but doesn’t overpower me, like he knows how scary he can be.
But Reef is not scary. Not to me. He is enticing and exciting and everything I need right now.
When he pulls away from the kiss, the look in his dark eyes is ferocious. I shiver.
I was determined to dislike my boss, but how can I hate someone whose touch I can feel everywhere, when they’ve barely touched me yet? My body hums with anticipation at the thought of him having his way with me.
“Quincy,” he growls, leaning in, dragging his lips down the side of my throat. I gasp in response. “I need you.”
Those three words, my god. If we weren’t encumbered by the size of this car, I’d be climbing on top of him and shredding his too-snug shirt with my teeth.
The fact that Reef is my boss makes me all the more eager to react to those words. The wrongness of it makes this even better.
As he breathes heavily against my neck, I reach down and unbutton his shorts. I unzip him and reach in, cupping all of him. The heat of his erect cock, his balls, even, radiates through the fabric.
Reef hisses a curse and pulls back, leaning against the headrest. “Quincy.” His voice is a ragged warning.
The meat of my palm presses down, stroking up the underside of his penis.
“Shit…” he says, his body twitching, pressing back against my hand, then rumbles something unintelligible.
The way he breathes, his chest heaving, I can sense he’s holding back.
“Relax and let me…”
This wakes him out of a daze. To my complete surprise, he pushes my hand away and is once again towering over me. “No,” he says. “You first.”
“Oh…oh…” I murmur as I finally understand. Reef’s tongue licks into my mouth, and his hands are deliciously everywhere.
At least one of them has flipped a lever on the side of the passenger seat with a loud thunk, and the seat reclines back.
I feel him pressing me down. I notice the feel of his lips on the skin at the base of my throat, his body blotting out the fluorescent security light, the bristles on his chin raking across my skin, his hands working my shorts open.
Once my shorts are loose, his big hand warms my lower belly, an area of my body I normally don’t care to be noticed.
He caresses that soft, untouched skin, just above the elastic of my panties, his rough thumb sweeping over my navel.
My hands, meanwhile, roam over his shoulders, wishing he was naked.
Wishing he was all mine to touch and kiss and bite. To take it all and make him finish.
But he seems to be acting on principle. A personal rule. One thing I know about Reef is he follows rules to the letter, even ones he made up himself.
So, me first.
That stroking hand spans my stomach, then moves to the side, hitching up the hem of my shirt. “You good with this?”
I could scream, but I whisper, “Yes…yes, Reef,” bending one leg up to let my thigh rub up against him, catching his loosened shorts in the process.
“Lift up for me.”
I follow his instructions, giving in to the moment, giving him the ability to ease my shorts and panties down just enough. He cups my pussy and I gasp at the sensation that ripples through my belly and rushes to already aching nipples.
Reef caresses me between my legs, and I have to fight against everything my body wants to do to make him hurry up.
My brain and my heart tell my body to slow down and savor this moment. Because it’s been years—literally years—since the last time anyone touched me. And since then I’ve trained my body to reach orgasm quickly and efficiently with a number of handy little toys. Just getting that need taken care of.
Reef isn’t about to suffer my need for speed.
He shifts around and is somehow, impossibly, completely over me, resting some, but not all, of his weight against me. I could easily push him off if I change my mind. But I won’t. There’s less than a negative one-million chance of that.
“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart,” he murmurs, once again licking into my mouth, making me stir with emotion at his words. Sweetheart, he said. That feels good. In the moment. But if I were his sweetheart…
No, don’t go there.
“God, I can’t wait to have to spread out naked in bed so I can taste all of you.”
As he says this, he slips a finger inside.
The picture he’s painted, along with the insistent strokes of his middle finger, has me gushing. Fucking gushing.
Reef is making a mess of me, now adding a second finger as his thumb finds my clit.
I curse, and my hips roll upward. I can’t even find the words.
“Oh…oh my god…”
My words are lost in his heated kiss as his hands work me over, one all up in my pussy and the other cupping my breast. His thumb rubs over the aching tip through the soft fabric of my bra.
I feel so seen and naked, yet not naked enough. I want to climb all over him, and I find this car frustrating as one leg is pinned between Reef’s hip and the console, and the other one bumps the door handle.
Frustrated yet suddenly rocketing to completion because Reef, the steady and determined and methodical Reef, has found a way.
I cry out, really loudly, my back arching upward as my orgasm cracks through me.
His breath is hot against my neck as the spasms overtake me.
It’s so good. He is so good.
What the fuck is he going to do to me once he has me in a bed? Lights on, clothes off, legs happily spread wide?
The thought sends one more shudder through me.
His big body shifts once more, and the light from the security lamp seeps through the fogged-up windows. Gently, slowly, he pulls me up and rights the passenger seat. Sweetly, he smooths my hair and kisses my chin, my jaw, my neck as I catch my breath.
“That was…”
Forget it. No words.
I reach for him, but he pulls away.
“Let’s go bake that cake.”
“But…”
In the dark, I hear the sound of his zipper.
“Nah. Later. Cake time.”
There’s no convincing him otherwise.
I don’t know how we make it in one piece to my grandmother’s house without wrecking the car.