Just Good Friends (Cheap Thrills #5) - Mary B. Moore Page 0,53

never felt before, she was made for me.

The whole night had been a game of foreplay, and I’d reached breaking point as we drove home down the dark country lane. That said, I probably could’ve held off a bit longer if she hadn’t been rubbing her hand up and down my thigh since we’d set off, skimming closer to where my cock was with each pass.

Still, I had the sense to warn her. “Baby, you keep doing that, and I’ll start torturing you back.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her look at me as innocently as possible. “What do you mean?”

That might have worked if she hadn’t decided to cup her hand over my erection, which was stuck down the left leg of my jeans, screaming at me for freedom, increasing the pressure as she moved up and down the length.

Figuring revenge was the best way to handle it, I took my time reaching over, building the anticipation, before rubbing my hand up her silky smooth thigh.

Hearing her sharp intake of breath at the move, I pretended to ignore the fact she’d opened her legs slightly farther apart and asked, “Did you have a good night?”

“What?” she asked, sounding like she’d forgotten we’d just been surrounded by a big group of people.

“Tonight. Did you have a good night?” I brought my hand higher up her thigh with each word until it went under the skirt of her dress.

“Um, yeah, it was great,” she whispered, her rapid breaths sounding loud in the quiet cab of the truck.

“I hadn’t expected there to be as many… Son of a bitch,” I growled, jerking the wheel to the side and directing us off the road and into a grouping of trees. Fortunately, their dense foliage covered us for what I was about to do.

See, on that particular skim, I’d managed to get high enough to feel her panties and had rubbed the knuckles of my hand into her, thinking I was just flirting with her pussy. Not once had I imagined that her panties would have a split right up the fucking middle of them so that instead, I hit her smooth, wet center.

Not willing to remove the hand that was already there, I used my free one to undo both of our seatbelts, then leaned over and caught her leg, angling her so that she was facing me more in her seat. With the lights from the dash, I pulled her legs apart and lifted the bottom of her dress so that I could see what I was feeling.

Sure enough, my girl was wearing a pair of split-crotch panties, and she was so fucking wet that I could see her glistening in the faint light around us.

Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I thought over the fact she’d been wearing these all night. We’d been surrounded by people, in a public place, with her in my arms, the whole night… and her pussy had been accessible the entire time.

“You’ve been wearing these all night?” I clarified, my voice sounding strained.

Nodding, she bit down on her lower lip. “Uh-huh. I got them yesterday, do you like them?”

Did she really need to ask me that?

“Fuck, yeah. Wait, you had these since yesterday? Why am I only seeing them now?”

Ignoring my question, she shifted slightly, her new position enough to reveal her clit now. “I wasn’t sure you’d like them, but now that I know, well, they come in other colors, too.”

These were red. A red cast on her arm, red satin nighties, red lace, red crotchless panties…

“I like red,” I croaked, clearing my throat. “Then again, I think I’d like them in any color.”

Her responding laugh was as strained as the words I’d just spoken. “Noted.”

Moving my hand so that the palm was facing upward, I skimmed my middle finger between her folds, groaning at how wet she was.

Willing myself to get some control back, I took a deep breath in and let it out, at around the same time that I hit her entrance. Torn between watching her face and watching what I was doing still, I slowly pushed my finger inside her, groaning at how tight and slick she was as she clenched down on it.

“Garrett, I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

And this was a problem why? “Do it. I want to feel you come, Tamsin.”

Her hips shifted restlessly as I moved the digit in and out of her, adding a second one when she least expected it.

“Your upholstery…”

I

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