Page 38 of A Little Moore Action
“Let’s get out of here.” I thread my fingers through hers and lead us out of the speakeasy. Campbell frowns at our clasped hands, and I think I may have overstepped. But then, as if a switch flipped somewhere inside, her frown disappears, and her fingers tighten around mine.
We grin at each other before maneuvering out the secret door and down the stairs. It hits me that I’ve never been happier than when Campbell is near. She has a way of exaggerating the good and dimming the bad. Part of me wonders if that shouldn’t scare me a bit, but I can’t drum up any fucks to give.
Instead, I concentrate on the victory of her hand in mine. With Campbell, I’m sure holding hands is just one battle of many I’ll need to win before the war is over.
After all, loveisa battlefield.
“My hotel is that way,”Campbell says, jerking her thumb to the left while I turn my car right.
“Yep. It is.” I look straight ahead, changing gears.
I can actually feel her eyes narrow. “Is that a ‘yep’ as inI-momentarily-forgot-and-I’m-about-to-turn-around, or ‘yep’ as inI-never-intended-to-take-you-to-your-hotel?”
I ease around the city’s traffic, loving her annoyed tone. “It’s more awe’re-gonna-finish-what-we-started-in-the-elevatorkind of yep.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her mouth drop open in a perfect O. I groan. “Goddamn it, Bell.” I brake hard at an upcoming traffic jam and turn to her, my eyes narrowing on her open mouth.
Reaching out, I rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “I know you’ve been hiding from me since Winston’s.” She stiffens at my words but doesn’t refute them. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m serious when I say I’ll turn around if you tell me to. I’ll drive you to your hotel and watch as you walk into the lobby. Alone. I won’t push anymore. And saying no won’t interfere with work.” I rub her lip again, holding her gaze with my own. “I’m not that guy.”
I can almost hear the thoughts whirling through her mind as she sits there silently, leaning in a fraction to my touch. “I don’t mean to kidnap you, it’s just that…” I rake my hand through my hair, trying to find the words. Meeting my eyes, she looks turned on but unsure and a little lost. Just when I feel rejection and defeat stir in my chest and I’m about to turn the car around, her tongue slides out, the tip tickling the pad of my thumb. My fingers, resting on the side of her face, bite into her skin at the contact.
“Fuck, Bell.” I pull her toward me hard and fast. Our mouths collide, and it isn’t pretty. It’s teeth and lips and grunting, and it’s hot as hell. It’s over a week’s worth of wanting forced into a kiss. Her hand reaches down and palms me through my jeans, the zipper biting into my dick. But that’s okay, I need it. Without that sharp dose of pain, I would’ve already come in my pants just from the need rolling off of Campbell in waves.
My knee knocks hard into the gear shift, and the seat belt cinches me back when I try to lean further into her. Soon the sound of honking horns snaps me out of our ravenous sex fog. The traffic jam has cleared, and New Yorkers aren’t patient with idle drivers.
Quickly, I pull back, shift gears, and shoot down the road, making a hard right into my building’s parking garage. No valet tonight. I don’t think either of us want so much as the doorman seeing the condition we’re in. Thanking all the unsolicited dick pics that allowed me to purchase my own parking spot, I throw the car in park, unclip my belt, and reach for Campbell. She stops me with a hand on my chest and a seductive smile. Slowly she drags her hand down my chest and starts unbuckling my belt.
“It’s okay, baby, we can go up—”
“Shhh,” she says, not looking up from my hard-on straining at the denim fabric. I can hear the smirk in her voice when she says, “I’d rather go down. It’s your turn, after all.” My dick pops free once she lowers the zipper and that delectable pillow-soft mouth of hers widens, along with her eyes.
“You sure this is just nine inches?”
“Uh, well …” A nervous laugh escapes me, only to turn into a groan when Campbell licks her lips.
Any fight I had about doing this in the car is gone, especially when her thumb circles the top of my dick, spreading the bead of moisture over the sensitive tip.
Leisurely, as if she can’t tell I’m about to start thrusting my dick in her hand for some small amount of relief, she lowers her head. A hiss escapes my clenched jaw at the first touch of her lips against my cock. At odds with the emotions raging beneath my skin, I gently place my hands on her head, sifting my fingers through her hair, needing more connection to this woman.
“Mmm-mmm,” she hums, the tingle of her voice traveling down my cock to the base of my balls.
I fight the urge to thrust, but my ass can’t help clenching in time to her movements as she begins to bob, her hand encircling what she can’t fit into her mouth.
She starts off gently, light tugs with every suck on my dick. But soon her pulls are harder, deeper, causing my eyes to roll back in my head while I let the sensations wash over me. Fuck me, I’ve never had better in my life.
It isn’t because she’s giving me head in the car where anyone passing by might see us. It isn’t even her skills, necessarily, although, wow, just wow. It’s her.Campbell. Her intellect, her sass, her goddamn cowboy boots with birds on them. In just a few short weeks, she’s fucking ruined me, and I—
“Fuck, I’m coming.” I try to pull her up, but she fights the grip I have on her hair, sucking harder, going deeper. The sounds I make aren’t human as I shoot my orgasm down her throat.
An hour passes.
Okay, maybe a minute.
Lazily, my brain comes back to functioning order, and I open my eyes. I shift my head on the headrest to look at the woman who is slowly breaking me down in the best possible way. Her brown eyes look black in the dim light of the parking garage, large pools of midnight. Her bottom lip is being worried by her teeth, so I raise my hand to once again rub my thumb over it. The contact has my dick twitching, even as it lays worn out on my thigh.
The dude better get his shit together; we aren’t done yet. Not by a long shot.
Headlights illuminate the car for a brief moment as someone drives past my parking space. Campbell ducks her head, and I’d be willing to bet my shares in Moore’s that her fair skin is pink right now.
Knowing she must be uncomfortable, I lift my hips and tuck myself back into my jeans and get out of the car. I’m slower than normal, my muscles sluggish from an epic orgasm. By the time I round the back to open Campbell’s door, she’s already out, standing next to it.
