Page 50 of Where There's Smoke

I broke the kiss but didn’t let go of Jesse. Panting against his lips, running trembling fingers through his hair, I whispered, “You should know every time I kiss you, I’m that much closer to losing control.”

“Iwantyou to lose control,” he growled.

“You want me to?” I closed my fingers around his hair, shifting in my seat in a futile effort to get comfortable when I was this hard. “Oh, you have no idea what you’re asking for, Jesse.”

He pulled me closer. “I know exactly what I’m asking for,” he whispered and kissed me again.

Why I even tried to fight it, I had no idea. No amount of telling myself we should be anywhere but here, doing anything but this, would do a damned bit of good when Jesse’s fingers were in my hair and his breath rushed across my cheek like that. We’d found a tiny pocket of time and a dark, deserted place to be alone, and there was no turning back now. Even the most gentle touches—a trembling fingertip along the side of his neck, his palm warming my jaw—were alive with the primal, all-the-way-to-the-core hunger that had driven me insane the last few weeks.

I needed him. I needed him every way I could have him, and then I needed to have him all over again until I couldn’t take another minute. Kissing him desperately, breathlessly, I mentally calculated how much space there was in the backseat, what position we could get into that allowed me to fuck him good and hard, that gave me enough room to get the condom and—

Condom. Crap.

I broke the kiss again. “I don’t suppose you have any condoms with you?”

The sharp, whispered curse that escaped his lips brought a whole string of profanity to mine.

I touched my forehead to his. “Goddamn it. Jesse, I want you so, so fucking bad…”

“It’s mutual, believe me,” he murmured, letting his lips brush mine as he spoke. He slid a little closer, as much as the console allowed, and I gasped when his hand warmed the inside of my thigh. Before I could speak, he cupped my hard dick, and I forgot how to breathe.

“We can’t fuck,” he whispered, “but I can’t go anywhere until we…until we get…” He paused to kiss me. “I need something more than just kissing you, Anthony.”

I shuddered, and in spite of the way he stroked me—slowly, deliciously, perfectly—through my pants, I finally managed to get some air into my lungs. “So do I, believe me.”

A shiver pushed him closer to me, and he squeezed my cock just enough to drive a moan from my lips.

“Let me…let…” He kissed me lightly. “I…fuck, I can’t even talk.”

Neither could I. Especially not when his fingers followed my zipper up to the pull. As he drew the zipper down, a jolt made of equal parts panic and arousal lifted my spine off the back of the seat.

I grabbed his wrist. “Jesse, someone could—”

“Let them catch us.” He claimed a deep, non-negotiable kiss. With a few quick, expert motions, he had my belt unbuckled and the top button of my pants undone, and I groaned into his kiss as his warm fingers closed around my cock.

His touch turned me on, but his boldness bordering on aggression intoxicated me. He wasn’t intimidated now. Not by me, not by the potential fallout if we got caught. Jesse had never struck me as a wimp, but holy fuck, this sexual fearlessness drove mewild.

Then he pushed me back against the seat, and before I could make sense of a damned thing, his silhouette disappeared into the darkness and his mouth was around my cock.

“Oh…God…” I found his hair and held on to it for dear life, my hand rising and falling in time with the up-and-down motion of his head. “Fuck, Jesse,wheredid you learn to do that?”

He made a soft sound, one that might have been a moan or a subdued laugh, and his voice thrummed against my skin. I squirmed and gasped for breath as he stroked me with one hand, following with his lips and tongue. Then he stopped to tease the head of my cock with his tongue, still stroking with his hand while his mouth concentrated there, until I was a breath away from losing it. He went back to sliding his lips and tongue up and down the shaft in time with his hand, and I swore he knew exactly how I liked it. Where to flick his tongue, when to squeeze, when to release…

“Oh God. Oh God, Jesse…” Fuck, even if I hadn’t been wound up from weeks of needing him, I’d have had to fight to keep myself from coming. As it was, I gripped the headrest in one hand, his hair in the other, and screwed my eyes shut as I dug my teeth into my lip.

All at once, the darkness shattered into shards of silver-white light, and I lost it, and he didn’t stop, and he stroked and sucked as shock wave upon shock wave of pure electricity shot through me. I whimpered as my orgasm tapered, and when I collapsed against the seat, Jesse sat up, the shadowy impression of his hand moving toward his face like he’d reached up to wipe his mouth cementing the reality of what had just happened.

I reached through the darkness, found his shirt, and dragged him to me. We met over the console just like we had when he’d first pulled over, and wrapped our arms around each other.

His kiss was salty and aggressive, both of us panting as we demanded access to each other’s mouths. Even that post-orgasmic lethargy couldn’t make me back down, and I kissed him just as desperately as I had earlier. Oh, he’d satisfied me, all right, but now I wanted more.

Jesse touched his forehead to mine. “I’ve been fucking dying to do this,” he breathed, trailing unsteady fingertips down the side of my face.

“We’re not done yet,” I slurred.

“We should get back on the road.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “They’ll start wondering where we are.”

“I know, but I—”

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