Page 52 of When Sparks Fly

With the gate open, I switch to low beams and pull in. My favorite country station fills the night air when I roll the windows down. I throw Maci a warning look as I park and prepare to get out. She holds her hands up in supplication.

“Good girl.” Even in the darkened truck, I can see her cheeks color and her mouth fall into a small O.

Before helping Maci out of the truck, I grab a blanket from underneath the backseat and quickly lay it on the open tailgate. She takes my hand willingly and slides down. At the back, she doesn’t wait for me to speak before hoisting herself easily into the truck bed and giving me a glorious view of her perfect ass in those jeans.

She turns to me, hands on her hips and her sweater falls off one shoulder. With a proud stare, she dares to say, “Do you need help getting up?”

Trying to hide my amusement, I grind my jaw back and forth. Her lip catches between her teeth to stifle her own grin. So much for sitting back here. Nothing is keeping me from getting my hands on her now.

Grabbing her around her thighs, I throw her over my shoulder like a bag of feed as she squeals my name and grips the fabric of my shirt in her hands. After one good circular spin, my hands slide up the back of her thighs to her hips and guide her down my body, which is stupid becausefuck she feels good.

Her hands drag down my chest as she goes, eyes flashing as she goes to shove me. Instead, I grab a wrist in each hand and pull her flush against my body, her arms pinned between us.

Her breathing catches and her eyes soften.

“You have a smart mouth, you know that?”

“Oh, yeah?” She’s trying to play tough, but her voice is a whisper. “What are you going to do about it?”

I slam my mouth onto hers. She returns the kiss with every ounce of pressure I’m pouring into her, clenching the front of my shirt in her ensnared hands. Releasing her wrists, my fingers trace down her forearms to her elbows, tucked against her ribs. I take in the way she arches and shivers as I skim my hands down her sides, loving how receptive she is to me.

I haven’t even started.

She continues to kiss me with fervor and I move my hands over her ass, gripping her thighs and lifting. Her legs wrap around my waist eagerly. No doubt, she can feel what she’s doing to me.

Our kissing deepens and my hands find their way up her back and inside her sweater. Her arms snake around my neck as I step blindly forward and set her on the tailgate. I didn’t bring her out here to have my way with her. I will maintain that boundary. For now.

Something registers all of a sudden. “What is that?”

“What’s what?” Her voice is breathless between kisses.

“On your lips.” I press my lips against hers again, dipping my tongue into her mouth.

“You’re on my lips,” she manages when I release her to skate my mouth along her jaw, toward her neck.

“Not yet I’m not,” I whisper into her ear.

After a catch in her breath, she lets out a low laugh and my cock jumps. “Naughty Cowboy.”

I nip the skin just below her ear and she yelps then giggles. The weight of my hat leaves my head. When her hands dive into my hair, my momentary concern vanishes. I reconsider ever wearing the hat again. She can burn the fucking thing for all I care.

I savor every kiss, lick, and suck on her skin, trailing down her neck to the soft bend and over her shoulder. Her head tilts away, granting me easier access. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine. No one is ever getting this close to her again.

From the corner of my eye, I spot my hat lying upside down on the tailgate. I’m unsure if she knew to do that or if it was accidental.

She still hasn’t answered me. “Woman, you’re testing me.”

“Oh no,” she hums.

She shivers as I remove one hand from her back. Her sweater is soft and cool under the palm I sweep up the front of her chest to her neck. Her jaw fits perfectly in the crook of my hand, causing her mouth to fall open and her eyes to blaze. Her grip on my hair tightens.

I repeat my question. “What’s on your mouth, Firecracker?”

“Lip balm. Salted caramel.” She stares back at me. The soft sweater doesn’t hide the heavy rise and fall of her breasts.

I brush my lips along her open mouth, teasing her as I ghost them slowly back and forth. “Thank you,” I whisper, before planting a last soft kiss on her mouth. “Hungry?”

She studies me silently for a moment before tucking her lip into her teeth and shaking her head. Without giving her a chance to argue, I give her hips a squeeze and set her on the ground. “Come on.”

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