in his eyes almost makes me combust.
Is Eric touching himself now? Is he fisting his cock? I hope so. I want him to be so overcome with need that he can’t stop himself.
“You can come inside now.” Hunter pats his lap. “But first, tell me. Are you wet?”
“Yes,” I whisper. My body is one giant quivering bundle of arousal.
“Show me.”
I hesitate. Surely he doesn’t want me to—
“Dixie.” Hunter’s voice hardens. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
Oh. My. God. That tone, that hard edge in his voice—it’s turning me on. I should bristle at him and tell him to jump in the lake, but instead, I’m following his orders, and I don’t understand why. If anyone else talked to me this way, I would snarl at them in unvarnished fury. I don’t understand what’s different about Hunter.
Don’t you? You wanted this roleplay. He’s listened to your fantasy, and he’s making it come true.
I take a deep, steadying breath. Very slowly, very deliberately, I part my folds. I’m bathed in the moonlight, visible to anyone who turns down the lane, and I’m going to put on a show for them. I slide a finger into my slippery wetness. This is a first for me; I’ve never touched myself when someone’s watching. I never realized how hot it could be. My muscles clench around me, and I brush my finger over my clit, almost jumping at the contact.
“Dixie.” Hunter’s voice is a warning.
“Sorry.” I hold my finger out to him. It’s coated with my juices, glistening in the moonlight.
Hunter beckons me closer. His hand closes over my wrist, and he opens his mouth and sucks in my finger, his tongue curling around it, lapping at my juices, tasting my wetness, and oh God, yes. I want his tongue somewhere else, I want him to stick his head between my legs, I want, I want—
He frees my finger and pats his lap. “Sit,” he invites, his voice tight with tension. His cock strains against the fabric of his trousers, and I want to grind against it, rub myself against his hard length, and make myself come as he watches.
I position myself on Hunter’s lap. A long-dormant memory stirs to life, of me straddling William this way, the night of senior prom.
Not now, Dixie.
Hunter’s fingers grip my hips. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses as I brush against his erection. “God, you’re beautiful, Dixie. You should see yourself.” He moves his hands up my body, sliding over my waist, my chest, and then he squeezes my breasts together and bends his head toward my nipples. His mouth dances from one engorged nub to the other, sucking, biting, lavishing each overstimulated nipple with attention.
I close my eyes, throw my head back, and surrender to the sensations that rampage my body. The door is ajar, and the overhead light is still on. Anyone turning into the lane will not see Hunter, but they will be able to see me through the rear window. Grinding on his lap, shamelessly gripped by passion.
Utterly naked.
Totally exposed.
I’m a slave to sensation, and for once in my life, I don’t regret it. I let myself surrender to my need. I let myself feel.
“Open your eyes, Dixie,” Hunter orders. His fingers are tugging at my nipples now, soft touches alternating with harder ones. “No hiding.”
My eyes flutter open.
Then I see it.
A car is coming down the drive, its bright headlights blinding me. It’s quite close, only a few feet away.
What if it isn’t Eric? What if it’s a stranger? I stiffen in horror. “Hunter, someone’s coming.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t sound like he cares. He rolls my nipple between his fingers and nips it with his teeth. I writhe in response, and he growls, a noise of intense male satisfaction. “That’s right, Dixie. Grind your tight little ass against my cock.”
I obey, shamelessly rubbing myself against him. My clit grazes against his fly. There’s not enough contact to get me off, but it doesn’t mean I can’t try. But my attention isn’t wholly on Hunter, not any longer. I’m intensely aware of the other car.
The headlights dim. The engine turns off, and silence once again returns to the clearing. It’s so quiet that I can hear the car door open and then shut again.
Someone’s gotten out. He—Eric?—starts to walk toward us, a flashlight in his hand.
It’s happening. It’s really happening.
My heart hammers loudly in my chest. I’m coiled tight with anticipation. “No, no,” Hunter chides, though there’s an undertone of amusement to his voice. “This won’t do. Eyes