“You don’t have to take me home. Not right home, at least.”
I furrow my brow, unsure of her meaning, until she looks up at me and I see a match light in her brown irises. “Right…not right home.”
“Not at all.”
My eyebrows jump. “Who are you and what have you done with Amy Solace?”
Amy giggles. There she is. “I’m trying something new. Is it not working?”
“No, it’s working, it’s definitely…”
Amy’s foot rises further up my leg.
I need to get that check.
* * *
I end up having to get up and track down the waiter. I hand him my card, give him an egregious tip for a meal we barely ate any of, and then hurry with Amy out to the valet.
We wait in silence, hand in hand, for the Hummer to pull up, and once it does, we scramble inside.
My heart is pounding. I can barely focus on the road when in my peripheral, Amy’s silky blue dress is draped so perfectly over her thighs. “So, I’m not taking you home.”
“No.”
“Where should I take you?”
I see her widen her thighs in her seat. “Somewhere private.”
This sort of excitement never goes away no matter how old I get. The anticipation of enjoying a woman. The trembling edge of flirtation. In fact, it’s only gotten better with age.
Scratch that. It’s gotten better with Amy.
“Hunter…” she says, her voice curling into a whine.
“What? What is it?”
“Just pull over.”
I drive, wide-eyed. “You want me to pull over? Where?”
“Anywhere.” In my peripheral, I see her hand slide down her thighs, caressing. That’s where my hands should be. “I need you. I can’t wait.”
I’m a slave to desire. Not mine. Hers.
I turn down a darkened, residential side street and jerk the car over toward the curb. The second I put it in park, Amy throws herself on me, her lips finding mine in a passionate kiss. I don’t even have time to take off my seatbelt before she does.
Her hands grab locks of my hair, pulling tightly. “God, I’ve missed you,” she whispers.
“Amy –” I can’t speak before her tongue slides into my mouth. Oh my god. This feels amazing.
In an awkward push and pull, we get her over the center console so she’s sitting in my lap, straddling my thighs with her groin pressed to mine. “I can feel you,” she murmurs.
My erection. “I’m sorry, it happened so fast, I –”
“No, I love it.” She reaches for the spaghetti straps of her dress. “Feel me.”
The bodice of her dress tumbles down, revealing her perky, bare breasts. “Holy, sh—” I’m cut off by my mouth connecting with her nipple. I roll my tongue around it while my hand massages her other breast.