Page 41 of Mustang Summer

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.You’re being helpful by letting me stay.I was out of line.”

With his head in her hands, his only view was of her chest.Even through her shirt, it was enough to stoke the simmering lust he’d been trying to ignore.

Though he might be awkward with women, his biology had always worked just fine.He’d been told he was good in bed, and the women had always tried for a relationship, but they’d needed more than he could give.

Well, he could give it, too, if only he knew what he was supposed to give.Long ago, he’d accepted that it was too much to ask a girlfriend to just tell him what she wants.

I shouldn’t have to say it!

How many had said that?

“Well,” she moved his head from side to side, “I think the bleeding is minimal, but you’ll have a nice goose egg for a day or two.”

His hands landed on her waist.She still smelled like vanilla from spending much of the day in her car.

Her grip loosened until he could raise his head.

“Brock,” she murmured.

He didn’t know who made the first move, but his lips touched hers and he hauled her against him.

She didn’t release him, but cupped his face.Then her hands slid to his shoulders and her fingers bunched the material of his shirt until it lifted from his waistband.Breaking apart, she tugged it off and dropped it on the ground.

She bit her lip and splayed her hands over his chest with a groan.“You are so hard.”

“I eat right and work all day, either on the cars or on the farm.”

“You haven’t been exposed to my mom’s desserts like I have.”

“You have a nice body.”

A slow smile spread across her and face as she shimmied out of her shirt.

His breath whooshed out when her white lace-clad breasts were uncovered.Her dusky nipples were visible under the material; he wanted to cover them with his mouth—so he did.

She rocked back like she was going to fall.He hugged her to him and twirled them until her backside was against the hood of the car.He skimmed his hand up her bare back, over her satiny skin, until he reached the clasp of her bra.

He tongued her nipple and her head tipped back.Sliding the bra off, he returned to her nipple as soon as it was free.

“Brock,” she hissed when he took the tip between his teeth.

She drew her legs up until her feet rested on the fender of the car.His shaft pulsed behind his jeans and bent over as he was, it was uncomfortable as fuck.He hated leaving the softness of her skin, but he had to flick open the fly of his jeans.Using the opportunity, he switched to her other nipple.

He could’ve spent hours buried in her cleavage, but she tipped his chin up and claimed his mouth.He trailed a path with his fingers to her shorts closure, her wiggles and sighs signs he was doing the right things.

But she didn’t wait on him.She flipped her clasp and scooted out of them while maintaining their kiss.

He swept his tongue into her mouth.She tasted of their dinner and Josie, the flavor he’d come to associate with only her, as if the last kiss had imprinted it onto his cells.

She kicked her bottoms out of the way, and when he cupped her sex, he jerked back, not believing she’d taken her underwear off, too.

“You’re naked.”

Reclining, she did the most provocative thing he’d ever seen and dropped her knees open.

“I am.”Her voice was thick, her lips still swollen from his kiss.

---