waist to ankles, except for her heavy-soled sandals.
Kitty's breath sounded loud in the plush interior of the van. "Don't you ... don't you think we should shut the sliding door?" she said, clamping her thighs together. Though the country road was deserted, the overhead light was burning, her bra and shirt were pushed up under her arms, and the rest of her clothes were in Dylan's hands.
He reached up and turned off the interior light. "Flip down the seat by the window," he said, his voice grating in the new darkness.
Trembling with excitement, she fumbled with the levers, finally managing to fold the seat forward so that the back lay against the bench. Dylan was kneeling on the floor of the car, his feet sticking out the sliding door while she had the middle seat to herself. "Dylan..." she said, suddenly uncertain.
Without answering, he turned her on the seat, so that her bare legs faced the open door and the small of her back rested against the folded seat behind her. She could hear him breathing, the sound fast and heavy.
"Dylan..."
He ignored her again, instead pulling on her ankles so she slid forward until her knees bent over the side edge of the seat. Then he pushed her legs wide and shoved her clothes beneath her bottom.
She was open to him, vulnerable. "Dylan - "
"Shh." He ripped off his shirt and pushed that beneath her too, tilting her hips even higher.
Then he leaned forward, his powerful, naked shoulders hot against the insides of her thighs. His breath grazed her with heat, and then he used his thumbs to open up the petals of her body.
"Just like a rose," he said, each word sending a puff of air against her private flesh, each puff of air sending a flight of goose bumps winging across her skin.
Her breasts were rising and falling with her uneven breaths, and her gaze was fixed on the view she had between them - of her bent knees and his dark hair. His head dipped, and she felt something moist and soft lick her.
She jerked, trying to back away, but the folded seat behind her prevented her movement. He licked again, and she didn't want to move at all.
He licked once more, his tongue moving higher, finding some spot that was so sensitive she wanted to scream, and she lifted her hips toward his mouth. With a murmur of approval he opened her wider, and then he set her on fire.
His mouth was at turns hard and soft, his tongue gentle, then demanding. Her body dissolved into his, her thighs falling open to let him find every secret, to let him discover every vulnerability.
He whispered words of praise; he whispered raunchy, naughty words that made her moan. And then he made her come, his mouth sucking on her until her whole body shook with the power of it.
After making sure every atom of pleasure had been wrung from her, he lifted his head. "You're so sweet," he said. "God, I could do this all night."
Kitty sighed, so languid and so ... his that her open pose didn't embarrass her any longer. "But I need you inside me," she said. "I want you."
And he obeyed, moving inside so hard and so deep that she cried out, and cried again in sadness when it was over.
Afterward, he laid his head against her breasts, gasping. She stroked his hair, thinking of all that he'd done for her that night. Not only the sex, but the way he'd rescued her from Kemper's with their trip to the amazing Valhalla of vans. Who else would have thought of such a thing to distract her? No wonder she couldn't resist him.
Tears stung her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for understanding me."
He rubbed his whiskery cheek against her breast and her nipple jumped to attention. He laughed and lifted his head to kiss it, the St. Barbara medal he always wore around his neck brushing coolly against her skin.
Kitty sighed again, wondering exactly who understood him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dressed and ready for Tony and Sylvia's party, Kitty swallowed hard when she heard Dylan's knock at her front door. On a long breath, she took a final look in her bedroom mirror, smoothing the short skirt of her sundress and then slipping her feet into high-heeled, strappy sandals.
He knocked again. She blew out a sigh, before dragging herself toward the door. Her mood shouldn't be so bleak. Tonight might not be so bad. Look at