Page 44 of Dirty Shots

Eric shook the offered hand. “And I’ll keep in mind your modeling offer,” he said. And Anya did her best not to melt into a puddle and drain through the cracks of the sidewalk.

Eric slipped his hand into hers, and they stood together as Logan gave them a final half-wave and sauntered off down the street.

When he was out of view, Eric turned to her, pulled her against him, and kissed her full on the mouth. His arms wrapped around her lower back, his hands fitting into the cleft above her buttocks, to press her hips against him. The sensation caused the already building heat in her loins to pulsate through her, and she had to stifle a moan, remembering where she was. His tongue danced around her mouth, claiming her attention. Her hands found their way around his back, tracing the muscles running along either side of his spine beneath the soft cotton of his shirt.

Eric broke this kiss, but kept his proximity to her, so their mouths were only a whisper apart. “I’ve wanted to do that all evening,” he growled, his breath hot against her lips.

She smiled and gave him a squeeze. “And I’ve wanted you to do it. Now you’d better get me back to your place before I drag you down an alley again.”

He lowered his mouth even farther and kissed her neck, sending goose bumps shivering down her skin. “It’s crazy how just being near you makes me want you.”

“Then stop talking and get me out of here.”

She could sense his reluctance as he released his hands from her ass and stepped back, allowing space between them. He turned to face the road and quickly waved down a cab. She smiled. In New York, he was able to hail a cab within a minute. How often did that happen? Like Logan, Eric had an aura people couldn’t ignore.

They slipped into the back, Anya going first, quickly followed by Eric’s lean body. He gave the driver the address and then settled in, his arm slung around the back of the seat, behind Anya’s head.

The cab driver pulled into the traffic.

Eric edged closer and nuzzled her neck, making her squirm. His mouth pressed against the lobe of her ear, and he spoke so gently she wondered if she’d misheard him. “I can’t wait until we get to my place.”

She turned to him. “Wh—” she started to say, but he silenced her with another kiss, his teeth gently finding her lower lip and grazing the sensitive flesh. He lifted his mouth from hers and pressed it back against her ear. “Open your legs.”

A spark fired through her.

“I’ll be discrete. I promise.”

He might be able to be discrete, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he said. “Now do as I say.”

She couldn’t resist him.

Anya parted her thighs a little, feeling the cool air hit her skin. She wore a pair of panties, but they were a flimsy scrap of material and wouldn’t hinder his progress.

Eric reached across her body and pulled the other side of her coat across her lap. He looked into her eyes, amusement and lust dancing in their chocolate depths in equal measures. The coat provided a barrier from any peeping eyes in the rearview mirror. He slid his hand beneath the jacket, his fingertips walking up the inside of her thigh. As she’d predicted, the panties were simply pulled to one side, and before she knew it, the warm probe of his fingers pressed against her pussy.

She stifled a moan and edged down in the seat, allowing her thighs to spread farther, making access for Eric easier. She was already wet from the time she’d spent with both Eric and Logan, and also from the wicked public display of affection in front of the bar. He slipped his fingers along her slit, opening her up.

He pushed one digit inside her. Her inner muscles clenched around the intrusion, and she found herself moving against him, needing more. She wanted to lie back and open her legs for him fully, grab his hand and force two, three, even four fingers inside her and make him pump her hard. But she was acutely aware of the driver sitting only a matter of feet from her, and so she held herself back.

He made no attempt to kiss her again, just watched her intently, studying her every reaction as he fingered her in the back of the cab.

“Keep still, Anya,” he said, speaking against her ear once more. “He’ll notice.”

She wanted to whimper in frustration.

Eric pushed another finger inside her, increasing the stretch, creating the feeling of fullness she so desperately craved. Her hands reached for him, wanting to touch him, too, but he pushed her hand away with the one that wasn’t in her panties. She could see the bulge in his pants, knowing he was as turned on as she was, if that was even possible, but he wouldn’t let her touch him.

Instead, she grabbed the material of his pants leg in one fist, bunching it up as he continued to push inside her with a slow, rhythmic pace. Her stomach tightened, the muscles in her thighs straining. Pleasure coiled and swam in her lower abdomen as he fingered her, converging to a peak in her clit. She arched her hips, wanting him to put pressure on the sensitive swollen nub. Her cream was slick on her thighs, and she imagined his hand must be soaked with her desire. She was too turned on to care.

As if he’d read her body and known exactly what she needed, he shifted the position of his hand slightly and used his thumb to put pressure on her clit. She turned her face, burying it against his shoulder as her pleasure stepped up a notch.

“Oh, God,” she gasped.

He increased the pace, almost hard enough to hurt. Her building orgasm tilted her over the edge, and she plummeted down, freefall, held in the grip of the waves that powered through her. Her pussy clenched against his fingers, her hips involuntary rocking to pump his hand. To stop herself crying out, she bit into his shoulder.

“Everything okay back there?” The cab driver’s voice.

Anya managed to sit back up, Eric slipping his fingers from her body.

“Fine, thank you,” he said, his voice completely composed. He lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked her cream from his fingers.

Anya giggled, hiding her face against his shoulder once again.

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