Page 19 of Pucking Curves

“Don’t need one to murder you,” she says sweetly as her seat slides back. “I plan to do it with my own two hands.” She turns on me, eyes narrowed, determination written all over her face. And my goddamn cock throbs. It only throbs harder when she lunges across the console at me, hands extended like she really thinks she has a chance in hell of getting them around my throat before I get mine on her.

I grab her, hauling her onto my lap.

Her ass lands against my thighs as my lips come down on hers in a wild kiss. I pour everything into it—obsession, desire,everything.

She whimpers against my lips, tugging my hair like she did when I was between her legs this morning with my face buried in her pretty little cunt.

“If you’re going to kill me, baby,” I murmur, “at least let me make one final meal out of you first. Every condemned man gets to eat.” Between her legs is the closest to heaven I’ll ever get. If there’s a way to go, that right there is it. No questions about it.

“Shut up and kiss me again,husband.”

Oh. Fuck. Me.

I buck my hips, growling as a blast of pure fucking bliss rips through me. Maybe she meant to be a smartass when she said it, but there’s no hiding the possessiveness in her tone, like she means that shit. Like she’s claiming ownership of me right here in my car.

She’s playing dirty.

“You’re trying to get yourself fucked dirty in front of your neighbors, aren’t you?” I mutter, nipping her bottom lip before I kiss the hell out of her again. My hands are all over her ass. Of course they are. Where the fuck else would they be? I’ve been dreaming about this perfect, gorgeous, round ass for a year. I’m not going to stop touching it anytime soon.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get myself fucked,” she whispers.

I close my eyes. Count to three.

“What are you doing?” she asks, amusement in her tone.

“Trying not to come in my pants like a goddamn teenager,” I growl. “My wife is on my lap, asking me to fuck her. I can still taste you on my tongue, Wren. I still hear your little whimpers ringing in my ears. I’m a man on the edge right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” There’s no hiding the smile in her voice. She loves knowing that. Her lips touch my jaw before wandering lower. “Maybe I should send you over then, Archer.”

I don’t think she even realizes just how close she is to doing exactly that. Her teeth rake down my throat and I shove my hands into the back of her pants to squeeze her ass.

“Wren…” I intend her name to be a warning. It comes out like a plea.

“I like you desperate, Archer.” She flicks her tongue against my skin, tasting me. “I like the way your breath hitches, and your voice gets all raspy.”

“Boarding. Charging. Interference. Hooking. Hold–”

She pulls back to look at me, one brow arched. “What are you doing?”

“Reciting penalties.”

“Why are you reciting penalties?”

“To find the strength I need to keep from fucking you in this car in front of all your neighbors.”

“Ah.” Her lips curve into a grin, amusement dancing in her eyes. “And is it working?”

“Fuck no,” I growl, squeezing her perfect ass again.

Her delighted laugh spills through the car, tearing at my self-restraint. Good God. How the mighty have fallen. Like a ton of bricks, right at her pretty little feet.

I growl, yanking my door open. Before she can even protest, I’m hauling us out of the danger zone. She stumbles when I set her on her feet, gaping up at me with a protest written all over her face.

I bend, dropping a hard kiss on her mouth. “I’m not fucking you in the car for the first time, little bird. My wife will be spread out in our bed so I can take my time,” I growl. “Go get your sh…things and stop torturing me.”

“Fine.” She stares up at me, those gray eyes locked on my face. “But just so you know, you brought this on yourself.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you figure that?”

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