Page 40 of Long Time Coming

I laugh, the vibration freeing to release the breath I was holding. “If you think that will keep me quiet, you have another thing coming.”

His shoulders ease, and his elbows loosen as he steers. “You might claim you’re not so little anymore, but that’s big-league talk, and you’ve only been playing with boys.”

My heart hasn’t stopped racing, but I’m not intimidated. I’m intrigued. Even though I know the answer because he’s right, I still ask, “Let me guess, you’re a real man?”

His hand dips to his jeans as he shifts on the seat. There appears to be a growing problem that needs solving down there, but I think it’s best not to make the situation worse by pointing it out.

He shakes his head as if he’s about ready to settle this argument once and for all. “I’m starting to think I’m the only man who can handle you.”

When shots are fired, I fire right back. “And how would you do that exactly?”

“I’d start with that mouth of yours and keep it busy. Then . . .”he says, eyeing my chest without regard to the fact I can see him. Or maybe he doesn’t care anymore. “Go lower. You were right earlier. You’d never be able to keep quiet once I have my way with you.”

Oh . . . myyy!

Biting my lip, I sit up and grin like I just won the lottery. “Goodness, Mr. Grange, and here I thought you were a gentleman.”

“Seems you’ve been outplayed, Ms. Greene.”

“Or maybe you just played right into my hand.”

I’m flung to the right from the sudden yank of the steering wheel as he pulls the truck off to the side of the deserted two-lane road.

With my hands anchoring me between the door and the dashboard, I hold strong until the truck comes to a skidding stop. “Oh my God!”

“This is what you wanted, right, Pris? You want a man to take charge so you don’t have to carry that load all alone. I’m your guy.” He flings his arms wide. “I’m right fucking here. Your message was loud and clear. You want me? You got me.” He pops the lock on my seat belt and then rubs a finger under my chin as he raises it. When our eyes connect, he leans in. “Now . . . what are you going to do with me?”

Fine, sometimes I talk a big game but there’s no intention behind it. This is not one of those times.Tonight, I’m all action.

CHAPTER 14

Christine

Tagger’s seat belt flies back so hard that it hits the inside of the truck with a bang. His seat slides back so fast that I barely know what’s happening before he grabs my hips and pulls me onto his lap to straddle him.

His hat tumbles between us, but he catches it on reflex, tossing it into the back seat. Then his hands reach up quickly, cupping my cheeks as he presses his lips to mine. My breath catches in the scuffle of hands and bodies, lips, hair tangling between fingers and lips.

I lean back against the steering wheel, my chest rising and falling again with each breath I take. “You kissed me?” I don’t even know what I’m asking because my thoughts are so scrambled. But I know I wasn’t the one instigating this time . . . though I’ll admit I’m not innocent. But he kissed me. Tagger Grange kissed me all on his own.

I caress his face, the scruff like dull needles that need sharpening against my hands. He looks up with a lick to the corner of his mouth as if he doesn’t want one taste of me to escape. “I want to do it again.”

“No one’s stopping you.”

“You’re so fucking naughty, Pris.” With his hand holding the back of my neck, I’m pulled forward until our mouths crash together again. His lips are strong like his hands, embracing and owning my entire mouth. His tongue parts my lips and two-steps with mine as they explore every corner of our mouths together.

I’m high on the ecstasy of feeling his hard length for me. He reacts so quickly to me, his lips taking ownership of mine like this is long overdue, and he can’t resist me. I’m already addicted to the headiness of it all and give in. I rub the seam that cuts right down the middle of my legs shamelessly over him. Again and again and harder and harder as the coiling begins deep in my center. The soft, thin material of my panties don’t stand a chance against the thick roughness of the denim. “God, you feel so good.”

The words seem to inspire him to dig his fingertips into the back of my ass. He holds me down while helping me grind against him. A moan escapes—his or mine is lost in the fogged-up space. “So good, babe.” His lips find my neck, and his tongue flattens as it slides up to under my jaw. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about you?”

“Since Monday at Peaches?”

He stops and sits back, but the feigning of being upset doesn’t stick, and he laughs. As soon as our eyes connect, he’s right back to where he left off, and I start to lose my way again. Every gyrate a proposition for more, each moan comes throatier as I gasp for everything all at once—release, air, and more of him, all of him inside me.

It’s not enough.“I want you. I want you so much.”

He bucks into me, hitting the spot that I can’t get enough of and need his full attention on to get me off. Dropping my head back fills my desperately seeking lungs with air, but the coil begins unraveling, and as much as I try to stave it off, to revel in this feeling, the faster it spins inside. “Yes, babe. God yes. Right there.” I lift and land, rub, andtake, take, takeas much as I can. But then his mouth finds my collarbone, one hand squeezing my breast while the other pops my jeans open and slips between my slickened lower lips.

One touch is all it takes, and I’m pushed right off the edge of the cliff where he placed me. Tremors rip through me, so I hold his shoulders, wanting to feel every last seismic shift. “Oh, Tagger. Yes. God, yes!”

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