Page 51 of Catch and Release

“Are you going to make me beg for your dick, Shawn?” she asked. “I’ve never done it before, but I might if you keep holding out on me.”

“I’m not fucking you right now.”

“But I told you, I’m not drun?—”

“I’m not fucking you in this car, in a busy parking lot, Greene,” Shawn said, his voice rough and steely. “The first time I sink inside you, the first time you take my cock, it will not be where I have no space to spread you out and see you. And it certainly won’t be where others could see us. See you.”

Willa stopped breathing for a moment, caught up in the vigor and passion of his words. Then she looked around the parking lot. There were a few people, several cars away, but nobody near them. It wasn’t crowded. Most people probably wouldn’t leave for at least another hour.

“There’s barely anyone here, Shawn. Please.”

“Willa,” he said, an edge to his voice.

“Shawn, my fucking vibrator won’t cut it anymore. I swear to God, all I can think about is you making me come, and if you don’t do it in the next minute, I think I might pass out.”

His eyes darkened.

“What do you think about when you use your vibrator, Greene?”

Willa bit her lip.

She’d said too much.

Stupid alcohol.

“Henry Cavill,” she said, and he smirked. “Idris Elba. Harry Styles.”

“Liar.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

He stared at her expectantly.

“You,” she whispered. “I think about you and your rock hard abs and your stupid jawline and the way it felt when you freaking fireman carried me out of the water the other day and?—”

He cut her off with a kiss.

His mouth captured hers with such intensity she thought she’d elevated to another plane. She ran her fingers down through his hair, along his neck, to his arms. She gripped the muscles she’d been obsessing over since she met him, letting her fingers explore the ridges of his biceps and triceps.

Then he ripped her panties off.

She gasped, and he claimed the sound with his mouth.

“You want to come,” he whispered against her lips, rubbing his thumb along her bead of nerves. “I’ll make you come.”

She whimpered, and he growled in satisfaction at the sound.

“How long have you been this wet?” Shawn said. “Since I started dancing with you back there? Since I grabbed your hips and pulled that perfect ass into me? Since you kissed me on that dance floor?”

Too much.

The feeling of him—after all this time, after fantasizing about him—it was too much. His fingers, the ones he used to tend to her wounds just a couple days prior, felt so good against her sex.

“Or did you get wet for that other asshole?” he asked, pressing his thumb harder against her clit.

“Shawn,” she gasped.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

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