Page 66 of Burn Point

I brushed the corner of her lips with a teasing kiss, then hovered there, just out of reach. “I can’t wait to learn every inch of you.” She groaned, tugging my head down to hers, sliding her tongue into my mouth, licking at me like a starving woman.

“You ready to go now?” I asked against her lips.

She pulled away, her eyebrows high on her forehead. “Are we going to fuck in Pearl?” My dick punched the fly of my jeans in response to her choice of words.

“We are going to fuck on this dance floor if we don’t leave right now,” I declared.

She led me off the floor, laughing, straight to our table where she grabbed her bag on the fly.

“Bye, guys.” She called over her shoulder, laughing as she slid under my arm and wrapped hers around my back. A second later, her hand slipped into the back pocket of my jeans, squeezing my ass.

I leaned close, my lips brushing her ear. “Keep it up, Skippy. You want to make it out of here with all your clothes on?”

Her giggle wrapped around me. Some weight I hadn’t known I was carrying just…lifted away. This feeling must be happiness. I grinned the whole way to the front door.

As the cool night air hit my skin, Jordan spun around, grabbing my hand, walking backwards, pulling me along. Her gaze scanned over me, and a devilish grin played about her lips. “Pearl is around back. Also, I’m not wearing any panties.”

I groaned. I was so close to being inside her, to having all of her, it was almost unbearable. Closing the distance between us, I dipped low, hugging her hips and lifting her up, bringing her breasts right to my face. “We better find her quick.”

Chapter 18

Jordan

Nate pushed me onto the bed inside my van, my decorative pillows cast to the floor with one swipe of his hand, like he couldn’t be bothered to stop long enough to care.

I opened my legs and pulled him by the shoulders down on top of me, his weight a delicious pressure. He kissed me like his soul was on fire, and I the only remedy. Hands raced over my body like he couldn’t get enough. It was a heady feeling knowing he was so close to losing control. What would push him, make him go wild on me?

We tumbled over each other, a mash of seeking tongues, and impatient fingers. Every drugging kiss deeper than the one before, every touch more sensual, until I was panting and rubbing my bare crotch against his dick, soaking the denim between us. I never wanted this moment to end.

Nate broke the kiss, leaving us both panting, and rolled, pulling me over him.

I sat up, straddling his hips, and immediately my body begged for more, my hips moving, pressing into the seam of his jeans. Just a little more and…his big hands found my hips and stopped my grinding.

“Fuck, Jordan,” he growled.

The deep timber of his voice shimmered over me, through me. I reached for the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet of the van. I needed him. Now.

As I slid my hand in his jeans, eager to feel him, voices sounded outside the van. The thrill of getting caught ratcheted up my excitement.

His hand fell on mine, stilling me.

“Skippy, I hate myself for saying this, but we need to pump the brakes right now.”

I raised a brow at him as anticipation swelled. “Oh, we definitely need to pump something, but I don’t know if it’s the brakes.” I gave him a solid stroke over his underwear. Finally, finally getting my hands on him. How many nights had I imagined this? He was every bit as solid as I’d imagined he’d be.

His eyes glittered with mischief as he thrust into my hand. “You dirty girl. You’d like to get caught right now, wouldn’t you?”

I bit my lip as I gave him a squeeze, tightening my thighs at his waist, enjoying the sound of his groan and the way he arched into my touch, shimmying his jeans down his hips, freeing his erection. I braced my arm at his shoulder, so ready for there to be nothing between us. A shift of fabric and I began rubbing my wetness over his hard length, my hair a curtain around us.

“Fucking A, you feel so good,” he rasped, as his dick kicked against me. I ground down on him, bending to devour his mouth, riding him, needing him inside me.

The van shook as if someone was rocking it. I sat up. The window curtains were drawn, a hint of light filtering around the edges. Laughter blasted from outside the window, and the van rocked again.

“Son of a—” Nate shifted me off him, and stood, tucking himself back into his jeans, headed for the door.

“What are you doing?” I called.

“I’m going to go bust some faces.” He shoved a hand in his hair, paused like he was contemplating busting the door open.

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