Page 224 of Things Left Unsaid

“Right now.” She growls the confirmation, her hands finding her fly as she unfastens the button.

The logistics are hard for my brain to figure out, but I push back my seat as far as it’ll go then turn her on my lap so that she’s facing the windshield.

She wriggles her hips, nudging my cock with every pass, then I realize she’s yanking down her jeans to her knees. “Wear skirts next time, dumb, dumb, dumb Zee,” she mutters to herself.

Before she can continue, my hand slides around her throat, my other arm banding at her waist as I drag her into me.

Letting the words tickle her ear, I rasp, “Why are you talking down about my wife?”

Her head wiggles beneath my grip, and I let go when I realize what I did, but her fingers slap over mine, holding firm as if she likes the pressure there.

A part of me’s horrified by the aggressive act, flashbacks from my childhood only adding to the terror, but she whimpers. “God, that feels good.”

I stare straight ahead, trying to get my brain in gear, but all I can rumble is, “Is that what I asked?”

“No. You asked about…” She moans. “I’m so wet.”

The urge to feel how wet she is reigns supreme because I’m clearly the only one freaking out here.

“I asked why you were calling yourself dumb.”

“Because if I was smart, you’d be able to feel how wet I am,” she retorts with a sniff. “I don’t talk smack to myself, Colton, not unless it’s deserved, and in this instance, it is.”

The bite in those words talks me away from the proverbial edge.

My fingers flex, allowing me to monitor her stuttering pulse. She’d only let me do this if she trusted me. I have to find comfort in that.

“Feel what you do to me, Colt.”

I know exactly how she’s feeling.

For a second, I close my eyes, but then she grabs the arm I banded around her waist and tugs at it. The demand is silent, but I comply nonetheless. Like a man being happily led to his doom, my fingers cup her mound where the soft hairs prickle my palm as I let them swoop down to cover her sex.

I can already feel her excitement and my dick pounds in glee.

It’s probably the only part of me that wasn’t disgusted by how I caught hold of her.

Her hips arch. “Colton! Please!”

My response to her plea is automatic—I tunnel a digit between her folds, shifting until it’s sliding directly over her clit.

Fuck, the sounds she makes should be criminal.

How my body responds is as inevitable as the passing of time.

“This little pussy’s hungry for me, hmm?”

She chokes off a sigh. “God, yes. Please, Colt. Please.” Pressing into me, she wriggles when I don’t rub her clit. “That feels so good. More. Please, more.”

I grit my teeth as her nails bite into the hand that’s holding her close. “You want to come, baby?”

“I do. I so do.”

A glance at the private parking area reassures me that no one will see into the cab, that no one will see what’s mine.

Not her pleasure, but Zee.

Mine.

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