Jock Road (Jock Hard) - Sara Ney Page 0,88
my bottom lip, chewing. Thinking.
Having sex in his truck, in the exact spot where we met does seem romantic, in a weird way. What would be the harm…?
His hand snakes inside my pants, down the back, fingers sliding over my ass crack.
“Yes, I’m telling you not to be a quitter.”
“So what you’re sayin’ is you want to have sex in my truck.”
Jesus, is he going to make me say the words? I can’t. I press my lips together and shake my head, little jerky movements back and forth.
“Come on, Charlotte—say it.”
“I can’t.” I’m not going to tell him I want to have sex in his truck; he already knows it’s what I want, so why is he trying to make me say it?
Ugh. Guys and their egos, I swear.
“Do you want to do it or not?” I stubbornly press.
“Do.” He nods. “I do.”
“Then knock it off.”
Jackson’s eyes wrinkle at the corners. “Yes, darlin’.”
Pleased that I was able to assert myself, I lower myself to the seat, feet in Jackson’s lap. He removes my shoes first, unlaces the ties of my sneakers, setting them both on the floor in front of me.
Starts on the waistband of my bottoms, tugging. I watch, amused. “You’re not wasting any time, are you?”
“Nope.” He’s only halfway paying attention to me, fixated on the task in front of him.
When my leggings are stripped off, I shiver from the cold—until Jackson rises up on his knees, crawling forward to settle between my legs. Hands working the fly of his jeans.
It’s not as easy for Jackson to shuck his pants—the guy is well over six feet tall, jammed into the cab of a truck, twisted up like a pretzel. Still, together, we manage it.
His giant, calloused hand slides under my shirt, warming my skin and getting me hot all over. I love his palms. I love his fingers.
“I love you,” I whisper into the cab of the truck as he sets about removing my shirt. Drapes himself over my body, kissing my flesh along the way. Saying it back, quietly. Tenderly.
I slide my hands over his back, pressing my fingertips into his ass; grasp his t-shirt and pull, dragging it over his head so we’re both naked.
God, his body is ridiculous—firm and taut. There won’t ever come a day where I tire of it.
“You feel so good, babe,” Jackson coos above me, reaching his finger between our bodies and pressing his thumb over that hot button on my clit until I moan.
“God, if you’re not careful, I’ll come before you’re inside.”
He smiles into my hair. Kisses my neck. Nips at my shoulder with those pearly white teeth.
Mmm.
An excited, impatient moan escapes my throat when Jackson shoves his blue boxer briefs down over his hips.
My pussy throbs at the thought of him pushing his way inside me, and I lift my hips to meet the tip of his slowly descending cock.
He’s toying with me, and I don’t like it.
Jackson drags the tip along my slit; I’m still wearing my gray panties, but it doesn’t matter—I can feel the rock-hard erection pressing against me.
“Stop teasing me!”
He hangs his head to stare down at me. “Well, well, well, look who the feisty one is.” His lips kiss me full on the mouth; his dick flirts with the valley between my legs. Pushes.
I help it along, spreading myself, pulling my panties aside without having to remove them. Spread my legs, too, propping my heels up on the arm rest on the driver’s side door.
Basically, I look like I’m at the gynecologist, about to have a full exam of my vagina.
Don’t. Care.
I want him inside me…
I want him…
I want…
A set of blue lights in the back window catches my eye, and I pause, the throbbing sensations between my legs relegated to the backburner as my brain registers what the hell I’m seeing.
Is that…
Are those…?
My head pops up, eyes damn near popping out of my head as a squad car pulls up behind the truck, lights blazing.
I blink.
Blink again, mind slowly processing the situation. I give his shoulders a gentle push.
“Jackson, stop.” Tap, tap. “Stop! Jackson, the police!”
He twists his head slower than molasses, gazing out the window, squinting at the car behind us. Relaxes his countenance, pulling his t-shirt over an incredible set of abs.
“Huh?” The lummox kisses me on my bare shoulder. Ugh, stop! This is no time to keep fondling me!
“What are you doing? We’re about to be arrested for public indecency!”
“Relax, babe, it’s the campus police.”
“Is there a difference?” Why